Toshihiko Izutsu

and the Philosophy of word

In Search of the Spiritual Orient
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LTCB International Library Selection No. 33

 Toshihiko Izutsu
and the Philosophy of word :

In Search of the Spiritual Orient

by EISUKE WAKAMATSU
Translated by Jean Connell Hoff

L T C B In te rn atio n al Library T ru s t/ln te rn a tio n a l House o f Japan

The Hepburn svstem of romanization is used for Japanese terms, including the names
of persons and places. Except in familiar place names, long vowels are indicated by
macrons. An apostrophe is used to distinguish syllable-final n from n at the beginning
of a syllable. The spelling of non-Japanese words that have been incorporated into
Japanese reflects the way these words are pronounced by Japanese speakers.
With regard to Chinese personal names, we have followed the local custom of plac­
ing the family name first. Japanese names, however, are presented in Western order,
with familv name last.
Transliteration of words from other languages, for the most part, follow s the usage
adopted bvToshihiko Izutsu.

This book originally appeared in Japanese as Izutsu 'loshihiko: ILichi no Tetsugaku

(Tokyo: Keio University Press, 2011). International House of Japan retains the English-
language translation rights under contract with Eisuke Wakamatsu and through the
eourtesv of the Keio Universitv Press.

+ 2014 International House of Japan

All rights reserved by International House ot Japan. No part of this book mav be used
or reproduced in am manner whatsoever without written permission, except for brief
quotations in critical articles and reviews.

Eirst English edition published March 2014 by International 1louse of Japan

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del: +81-3-3470-9271 Eax: +81-3-34-0-9368
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Printed in Japan
ISBN 9-8-4-924971-37-0
To my late wife
Keiko
(1960-2010)
**
 Contents

Preface to the English Edition

xi

Preface to the Japanese Edition

xv

Translator's Notes

CHAPTER ONE

Shinpi tetsngakn: The Birth of a Poet-Philosopher

The Pure Starting Point................................................................... 1
The Sage of Stagira and the Sacred Duty................................. 14
The Poet Who Prophesies............................................................. 19
Mitsuo Ueda and Soetsu Yanagi.................................................. 25

CHAPTER TWO

The Encounter with Islam

The Children of Shem: Setsuzo Kotsuji.................................. 39
The Two Tatars................................................................................ 50
Shumci Okawa and the Origins of Japanese Islam................ 34
Martyrdom and Dialogue: flallaj and Massignon.................. 61
 CHAPTER THREE

Russia: The Spirituality of Night

The Writer’s M ission........................................................................ 71
The Seer of Souls and the Mvstie Poet:
Dostoevsky and T yutchev...................................................... 79
The Poet Who Sang of Life before Birth.................................... 85
The Eternal I d e a ................................................................................ 92

CHAPTER FOUR

A Contemporary and the Biography of the Prophet

Religious Philosopher Yoshinori Moroi....................................... 101
Shamanism and Mysticism.......................................................... 108
Biography of the Prophet................................................................. 118

CHAPTER FIVE

Catholicism
The Saint and the Poet.................................................................. 127
The Praxis of Proceeding toward Truth:
Shuzo Kuki and Yoshihiko Yoshimitsu............................. 141
Izutsu’s Influence on Christians:
Shusaku Endo, Voji Inoue and Takako Takahashi........ 147

CHAPTER SIX

Words and WORD

The Position of Islam in Izutsus Scholarship............................155
Language and Semantics................................................................ 161
The “ Introduction to Linguistics” Leetures............................ 168
The Semantics of Waka ................................................................. 180
 CHAPTER SI* VI'IN

Translator of the 1 Icavcnlvj World

The Translation of the Koran..................................................... 189

Structure and Structuralism...................................................... 199
Ibn ‘Arab!........................................................................................ 206
Lao-tzu, Chuang-tzii and C l i ’ii Y u a n ...................................... 215

CHAPTER EIGHT

Eranos — D ialogue in the Beyond

The “T im e ” of Kranos.................................................................. 223

Otto and Eliade............................................................................. 233
Idle Traditionalists and Sophia peramis ................................. 241

CHAPTER NINE

Consciousness and Essence

On the Eve of “ Ishiki to honshitsu” .......................................... 253

Ad O rientali ................................................................................... 239
A Spiritual Autobiography.............................................................264
“ Consciousness” and “ Essence” .................................................. 270
The Mvstic Philosophy of W O R D ..............................................279

CHAPTER TEN

T h e Philosophy o f M in d

Buddhism and Depth Psychology:

The Unconscious and Mu-c onseiousness.........................287
The “ Readings” of Writers.......................................................... 296
True Reality and Pancnthcism:
Kitaro Nishida and Bcn’nci Yamazaki............................. 308
 Afterword

Chronology
C>/
329

Notes
351

Bibliography
1. WORKS BY TOSIIIHIKO IZUTSU

397
2. OTHER WORKS CITED

421

Index
1. INDEX OE NAME

439
2. SUBJECT INDEX

449
 Preface to the English Edition

2014 m a r k s the centenary of the hirth of Toshihiko Izutsu,

T
he y e a r

one of the most important philosophers of the twentieth century.

In his ease, there is no need to add the qualifier “ Japanese.” His ideas
transcend national borders and arc universally loved and accepted.
Last .year was the twentieth anniversary. of Izutsu's death. Todayj
his writings are gaining more readers in Japan than they did even at
the time they were written. The on-going publication of his complete
Japanese works, begun last year in Japan, has met with a warm recep­
tion from many readers not only in the field of philosophy. Artists, opin­
ion makers and ordinary people, not to mention specialists in literature,
religion, linguistics, anthropology and ethnography, are attempting to
find new' meaning in Izutsu’s words that will cut through the confusion
of the times. In this respect, Izutsu calls to mind Henri Bergson, who
after his death would come to enjov even wider influence than ever
before outside his special field.
Toshihiko Izutsu did not start out as a philosopher. The age lie lived
in made him one. The person w'hom he called his “ one and only men­
tor” in his entire life was the poet Junzaburo Nishiwaki, who wfas on
close terms w'ith T.S. Eliot. The reason I mentioned Bergson’s name
earlier is not simply because the trajectories of their influence overlap
but because poetry and a pure, transcendental experience underlie the
metaphysics of both men. Izutsu called the magnum opus of his early
years, Shinpi tetsugaku (Philosophy of mysticism). “ Metaphysics should
come after a metaphysical experience,” he wrote. It will come as no
surprise that Bergson said much the same thing in Les deux sources de la
morale et de la religion (1932; The Two Sources of hlorality and Religion ,
1935). Some people have had profound experiences, but only a few have
been able to put those experiences into words, and rarer still are those
who have been able to express them in rich, poetic language.
T h e works for which Izutsu is known in the West arc his studies
of Islamic mysticism, especially Sufism and Taoism , and his semantic
hermeneutics of the Koran, such as The Ethico-Religious Concepts in
the Quran. Some have called him a scholar of Islam; during his life­
time, he was recognized as sueh even in Japan. But he never called
h im se lf an Islamic specialist. He considered h im se lf to be a phi­
losopher of language in the higher sense, or rather, to use his most
important key term, a metaphysician of kotoba (=TA), W O R D . When
Izutsu writes kotoba , it does not mean words or language in a nar­
row sense. Just as color is W O R D for an artist, sound is W O R D for a
musician, and shape is W O R D for a sculptor. In prayer, the most elo­
quent W O R D is silence. For Jesus as depicted in the New Testament,
W O R D perhaps was the gaze with which he looked at people. Izutsu
believed that the world is full of W ORDs, that W O R D forms the basis
for the existence of all things. “ Being is W O R D ” - Izutsu s philosophy
can be summed up in this one sentence.
Izutsu’s two main works are Shinpi tetsugaku (1949), published
when he was 35, and Ishiki to honshitsu (1983; Consciousness and
essence). It is a fact worth noting that, although he was conversant
with more than 30 languages, had no difficult}' writing in English and
spent the main part of his scholarly life abroad, he wrote what would
become his major works in Japanese. He left books in English that
compare favorably with his Japanese writings, but even if these were
to be included, that does not change the fact that the two books just
mentioned are his main works.
It would be difficult to translate these two books into English anv
time soon. And yet reading the passages quoted in the present work
ought to sufficiently convey the brilliance of the ideas they contain.
Words do not achieve their end when they are written but when thev
are read. It is not the writer who brings a hook to completion; that is
the job of the reader. Izutsu’s works have a quality well suited to being
called modern classics. Books that are considered classics are alive.
Thev continue to be read over the ages, changing as thev do so. The
words in the New Testament are the same as thev were on the dav thev
were written, but the meaning hidden in them has become richer with
the passage of time. That ahilitv to change over time is proof that a
work is a classic.
Izutsu, a Japanese, left works on Islamic philosophy that are in no
way inferior to those of the Islamie scholars who were his contempo­
raries. Similarlv it is liighlv likely that people whose native language
is not Japanese will discover the latent potential of Toshihiko Izutsu’s
philosophy. I strongly hope so. Not onlv so that research on the individ­
ual ealled Toshihiko Izutsu mav flourish, but, rather, because the role
metaphvsies ought to plav in ameliorating the elash of, and conflicts
between, cultures that continue to this very dav is, 1 think, bv no means
a small one. Toshihiko Izutsu believed that philosophy must plav a
bigger role in bringing about peace in the true sense. Philosophy for
Toshihiko Izutsu was not an abstract matter. The mission of philoso­
phy, he believed, was to eause the workings of that invisible something
ealled Wisdom to abound in the world we live in. At the risk of being
misunderstood, the fundamental issue for Toshihiko Izutsu was how
can philosophy save the human race.

Mv book has been fortunate to be blessed with an extremely tal­

ented translator. What I sensed while reading the English text is that
this translation is not simply a matter of turning the Japanese 1 wrote
into English. The work has taken on a new' life of its own. The beauty
of the translator’s language will no doubt be apparent to the reader, but
what deserves attention is the depth of Jean Connell Hoffs “ reading.”
The difficulty of translation lies not in choosing the right words but
in reading and understanding the original. 'Through her reading of it,
my book has been reborn on a new level. 1 wish to convey to her my
sincere thanks.
The efforts of mam' people have, in fact, gone into the produc­
tion of this translation. Although I cannot eite all their names here, I
would like to single out Ryoko Katahara of Keio University Press, who
was also the editor for the Japanese edition, and, above all, Yasuo Saji
of the International House of Japan, who has given me his constant
and wholehearted support during the long translation process. My pro­
found thanks goes to them both.
Finallv, I would like to express mv gratitude to those who have gone
on before us. One of them is Frank Hoff, the translators husband. As
she writes in her Translators Notes, lie worked tirelessly with her on the
translation, but died on November 7, 2013 and did not live to see the
hook completed. Mv father, Akio Wakamatsu, who was looking forward
to the publication of this translation, also died before its completion,
on May 7, 2012. Death, to be sure, is the demise of the body. But if it
signified the end of existence, there would probably be no need for
metaphysics. Its very existence tells 11s that metaphvsics forms the basis
of life. The dead cannot be seen, but they live together with the living
in a different form. This book could not have been completed without
their support. I thank them from the bottom of mv heart.

Eisuke Wakamatsu
March 6, 2014
 Preface to the Japanese Edition

t the start of a lecture in 1943, Toshihiko Uutsu said he was not

A a philosopher. He was twenty-nine vears old.

My specialty primarily has been Arabic, Persian and Turkish

literature, and sinee these are all Islamic literatures, naturally 1 have
bad to study Islam to some extent. For that reason I have nothing to
say to those of you who are specialists in philosophy. . . .'
He was not being modest. The position Izutsn held at the time was
a research fellowship in Arabic language and literature at the Institute
of Philological Studies, Keio University. On the other hand, however,
he had a book on philosophy to his eredit , Arabia shisoshi (1941; History
of Arabic thought)2 and had written on Muhammad and Ibn ‘Arabld
Although Shinpi tetsugaku (Philosophy of mvstieism, 1949) would not
be published until after the war, the lectures on the intellectual history
of Greek mvstieism upon w hich it wras based had already been given at
Keiod On the evidence of th cse achievements, for all inxtcnts and pur­
poses, he might w ell have said he wras a student of philosophy.
Plato, the central figure in Shinpi tetsugaku, w'ould have expelled
poets from the state. Not because he had any objection to the arts.
What Plato objected to wrcre harmful fabrications. Poets ought to he
conduits of revelation. When they lost sight of their role as conveyors
of divine enlightenment and became preoccupied w'ith self-expression,
they were to be banished from his Republic. In our own day, it is not
the poets who are to be expelled but the philosophers. T h e reader of
Shinpi tetsugaku can almost hear its author saying this. “ Metaphysics
is something that should come after metaphysical experience/' Izutsu
says in that work.5 It is no wonder, then, that a person such as he did
not recognize as “ philosophy” an activity7 that had severed its tics with
transcendence and no longer lent an ear to the voice of poetic inspi­
ration. Nor did he regard himself as a student of philosophy, much
less those who unhesitatingly styled themselves “ philosophers” simply
because they were studying that subject. Already by this time, in his
innermost heart, the term “ philosopher” had a special meaning for
him, completely divorced from its generally accepted usage.
As he himself suggests, the public life of Toshihiko Izutsu can be
roughly divided into three periods. The first began in 1941, the year of
his maiden work, Arabia shisdshi, and continued through the publi­
cation of Shinpi tetsugaku, Roshiateki ningen (1953; Russian human­
ity7)6 and the translations of the Koran (1957-1958 and 1964)," up until
the beginning of his life overseas. T h e second period was spent in
pursuit of interdisciplinary studies abroad, first at M c G ill University
in M o n tr e a l, C a n a d a , then at the T ehran bran ch o f M c G i l l 's
Institute of Islamic Studies and at the Imperial Iranian Academy of
Philosophy there, namelv the period up to his return to Japan in 1979
as the Iranian revolution intensified. During this time he was deeply
involved in the Eranos Conference and published almost all of his
works in English. T h e third period lasted from the time of his return
to Japan until his death and saw7 the publication of one work after
another, including Isurdmu seitan (1979; The birth of Islam),6 Isurdmu
tetsugaku no genzo (1980; T he original image of Islamic philosophy),9
Ishiki to honshitsu: seishinteki Toyo o motomete (1983; Consciousness
and essence: In search of the spiritual Orient),10 Isurdmu bunka: sono
kontei ni aru mono (1981; Islamic culture: T h e elements that make
up its foundation),11 Koran o yoinu (1983; Reading the Koran),12 Imi
no fukami e: Toyo tetsugaku no suii (1985; To the depths of meaning:
Fathoming Oriental philosophy),1’ Kosuinosu to anchi kosuinosu (1989;
Cosmos and anti-cosmos)/4 Clidetsu no kotoba (1991; Transcendental
W O R D s ) ,15 up to and including part one of his notes on Oriental
philosophy, hhiki no keijijogaku (1993; Metaphysics of conscious­
ness).'6 At the time of his death, he was about to begin writing the
sequel to this posthumously published work, so it would he fair to say
that he stayed the course, neycr resting until he took up residence in
the other world.
This does not mean, of course, that, from the very beginning,
lzutsu was the profound scholar that one might infer from his pres­
ent international reputation. 'There were many eyents in the process
that led to the birth of Toshihiko lzutsu the philosopher. These were
not exclusiyely internal, such as his encounters with lbn ‘Arab! and
Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu. Out of his meetings and interactions with
people and ideas in the world around him w’ould emerge 'Toshihiko
lzutsu the epoch-making philosopher. And yet cweii \yhen reading the
selected \yorks of'Toshihiko lzutsu,1” it is difficult to catch a glimpse of
his relation to the wrorld in which lie lived. The names of even such
great Japanese philosophers as Kitaro Nishida (1870-1943) and Daisctz
Suzuki (1870-1966), for example, appear only once or twice in his
works, and lzutsu made virtually no references to other Japanese think­
ers who preceded him. That docs not mean he showed no interest in
Japanese thought. Mis veneration for Daisctz Suzuki was no small mat­
ter, and we know from writings not included in his selected works that
he read Muneyoshi (Soctsu) Yanagi (1889-1961). Nishida’s best student,
Keiji Nishitani (1900-1990), was someone who recognized 'Toshihiko
Izutsu’s genius at an early stage. 'To this list could be added the names
of Islamic scholar Shfimci Okava (1886-1957) anc^ such Kcio luminar­
ies as Shinobu Orikuchi (1887-1953) and Izutsu’s mentor, Junzaburo
Nishiwaki (1894-1982).
Nor was it Japanese thinkers alone who influenced him. lzutsu fre­
quently mentioned his contemporary Jacques Derrida, but perhaps the
non-Japanese intellectual he loved most was Louis Massignon. In terms
of the strength of their influence, Rudolf Otto and Mircca Lliadc also
cannot be overlooked. But, except in the ease of bis colloquies with
other thinkers and writers, even the names of these friends, mentors
and scholars of an earlier generation hardly appear at all in his selected
works. Providing 11s w ith dues to fill in this gap is Yonui to kaku (Reading
and writing), an anthology of his essays published in 2009.lS
 Up until that point, there is no denying that Izutsn had been
seen as somehow detached fr’Om contemporary history. There seems
to have been something aloof about Izntsn, and, as a result, countless
quasi-mvthical anecdotes attached themselves to him from an early
period. Even describing Izutsn as an Islamicist, while not mistaken,
seems overlv restrictive, like calling him simply a philosopher of lan­
guage. Such titles do much to conceal the truth, I believe. And indeed,
he never identified himself as a specialist in the study of Islam, except
with reservations. Ncarlv everv vear from 1967 to 1982, Izutsn attended
the Eranos Conference. Begun in 1933 bv Olga Froebe-Kaptevn with
the cooperation of Jung and Rudolf Otto, Eranos was an attempt to
integrate Eastern and Western spirituality. Izutsn gave a total of twelve
lectures at Eranos, but never chose Islamic philosophv as the main
topic for anv of them. What he did discuss was the thought of Lao-tzu
and Chuang-tzu and the Ch'u Tz'u (Elegies of C h ’u), Confucius and
the I Ching (Book of Changes), the Buddhist thought of the Zen, 1 Iua
Yen and Yogacara schools, Indian philosophy, etc. As will be clear to
Izutsu’s Japanese readers, these topics flow dircctlv into Ishiki to hon-
shitsu. If he had not been invited to Eranos, that work might never
have seen the light of dav.
Ishiki to honshitsu is Toshihiko Izutsu’s magnum opus. Even were
we to include the works written in English, that fact would remain
unchanged. Although he never wrote a memoir, Ishiki to honshitsu can
be read as his spiritual autobiographv. As we watch it unfold, beginning
with Sartre through the poets of the Kokinshu (ca 920; Collection of
Japanese poems from ancient and modern times), Rilke, Mallarmc, the
Islamic philosophers, Confucius, Jewish mvsticism and Jungian psv-
chology, we seem to be following along with him in the footsteps, as
it were, of his intellectual development. Yet it we read this work as an
account of his own spiritual journey, we notice there is one topic miss­
ing: his relationship with Christianity.
Som eone may cite Roshiateki ningen as Izutsu’s discussion of
Christianity, and indeed in it he called Dostocvskv “ a Christian wit­
ness.” 19 But we should not forget that he added soon afterwards that
Dostoevsky was above all a true mystic, “ a new m an” — now chelovrek —
who transcends the single religious belief system of Christianity.20 What

W ill
that w ork makes clear is the lot of a spiritual revolutionary qua man of
letters who lived in dangerous times. The issue here is literally the direct
historical relationship of Toshihiko Izutsu to Christian thinkers. At one
time Izutsu was strongly moved bv such Christian intellectuals as the
poet Claudel, Augustine, John Kriugena and John of the Cross. One of
these thinkers w hom lie discussed w'ith intense emotion was Bernard of
Clairvaux. The impact of these poets and religious figures would pierce
his soul with a force comparable to that of his contact with the Cheek
sages. So strong and so profound was their influence that, as is clear in
the preface to that work, w ithout this encounter, Izutsu would probably
newer have begun Sliiupi tetsugaku.21
Toshihiko lzutsu’s philosophical projects converge on the “ syn­
chronic structuralization of Oriental philosophies,” the subtitle of
Ishiki to honshitsu, in other words, what he describes elsew here as cre­
ating “ a comprehensive structural framework, a kind of metaphiloso-
phv of Eastern philosophies . . . “ Synchronic” in this context means
treating a problem as though it exists both in the present and sub spe­
cie aeternitatis —“ transposing the main philosophical traditions of the
Orient spatially into an ideal plane at the present point . . . to create
artificially an organic space of thought, which could include all these
traditions structurally, bv taking [them] o ff. . . the axis of time and
bv recombining them paradigmaticallv.” -’ That such an undertaking
would be impossible for a single individual to complete was something
Izutsu understood from the outset. The words in Isuramu tetsugaku no
genzo must be understood in this way, i.e. the “ acute sense of power­
lessness” he felt as he tried to penetrate the depths of Oriental philoso­
phy through the prism of Islamic mysticism.14 At the beginning ol Ishiki
to honshitsu as well, he w'rites that this w’ork is only a prolegomenon to
a “ synchronic structuralization of Oriental philosophies.”2’
To be sure, what Itsuzu wrote was only a “ prolegomenon.” Yet, as
can frequently be seen in an outstanding work, it clarifies the funda­
mental issues. And even w'hile he acknowledged that the end result
woidd be only an introduction, the very fact that he took up his pen
was because he believed there w'ould be readers for it. Izutsu s read­
ers are spread across the world. But wrhat is needed now’, I believe, is
for Japanese to “ read” Izutsu’s Japanese w'orks, beginning with Ishiki to
honshitsu. Most of his readers abroad still do not know his most import­
ant work. T he possibility of understanding him in his totality is open to
Japanese readers alone.
A writer poses a question. The role of a reader is not simply to cri­
tique it or comm ent on it. It is to take the written word to an even
deeper lev el and sometimes to find in it a world or worlds of which
even the author him/herself had no idea. T h e written word remains
unchanged, but with the advent of the reader, the meaning hidden
within it spontaneously reveals itself. Through “ reading” as what Izutsu
terms a creative act, the advent of a reader who practices creative “ mis­
interpretation” brings the work to its completion. Frankly speaking
- w ithout fear of misinterpretation - authors do not know their own
works in their entirety.

Chapters One through Six of this book were serialized in the

journal Aiita Bungaku (Mita Literature) between the spring of 2009
and the autumn of 2010, but they have been largely rewritten. Chapters
Seven through den and the Chronology were written especially for this
book. Authorial additions within quoted texts are enclosed in brackets
[ ]. Following Izutsu’s usage the spelling “ Koran” will be used instead of
“ Qur’an,” and YVade-Giles romanization will be used instead of Pinyin
for Chinese words and names. Pinyin spellings will be given in the Index.

w
 Translator’s Notes

that seems appropriate to describe the present

T
he o n l y e x p r e s s i o n

book is “ intellectual biography.” To be sure, it does follow' the events

of its protagonist’s life in more or less chronological order —a childhood
spent practicing Zen meditation with his father; the Kcio years as a student
and teacher; his early w'orks on Greek philosophy and nineteenth-century
Russian literature; his hvo translations of the Koran into Japanese (the first
to be made from the original Arabic) and the works on the semantics of
the Koranic Weltanschauung; his major English-language stud)’ Sufism
and Taoism-, his years as an acknow ledged authority on Islamic mysticism
at the Institute of Islamic Studies at McGill University in Montreal and
later at its branch in Tehran and subsequently at the Imperial Iranian
Academy of Philosophy; the lectures on Oriental philosophy that he gave
at the Eranos Conference; his return to Japan in 1979 on the last rescue
mission out of Tehran on the eve of the Iranian revolution; the works in
Japanese on Oriental philosophy that he wrote in Japan during the last
fifteen years of his life.
But what stands out in the present book are the purely internal
events of intellectual development: his awakening to the mysteries of
language; his discovery through Greek philosophy that intellectual
inquiry and the vita contemplativa are not mutually antithetical; the
evolution of his ideas about “ meaning” w'hile teaching linguistics at
Keio University; the impact on him of other thinkers, living and dead,
from Ibn ‘Arab! to Mircca Eliade, from iVlallarme to Jean-Paul Sartre;
his work on the “ svnchronic strueturalization of Oriental philosophy,”
an attempt to synthesize the major philosophical ideas of the Orient,
which for him stretched from G reece, north Africa, Russia and the
Middle East all the way to India, China and Japan; his encounter with
the concept of W O R D and the realization that semantics is ontology,
that Being is W O R D .
And yet the book does not confine itself to Izutsu but discusses
many other thinkers who influenced him, directly or indirectly, or who,
as in the ease of Yoshinori Moroi, for example, were totally unknown
to Izutsu and yet were working simultaneously in parallel fields.
T h e inclusion of studies of such diyerse figures as his first publisher
Mitsuo Ueda; Pan-Asianist Shum ei Okawa; his language teachers
Setsuzo Kotsuji, Abdur-Rasheed Ibrahim, Musa Bigiev and Yoshitaro
Yokemura; Orientalist Louis Massignon and his “ co n tem p orary”
al-Hallaj; Yasaburo Ikeda; Ibn ‘Arab!; Jacques Derrida; Daisetz Suzuki,
as fascinating as they are, may at first strike the reader as odd. But as
one reads further, one realizes that they all illustrate main themes in
the book: the importance of Zeitgeist, how certain ideas transcend cul­
tures and animate an age; parallelism and synehronicity, the wav other
ideas transcend time and link thinkers who lived in different eras; the
hypothesis of a Zwischemvelt , medioeosmus, mundus imaginalis , or
A /-realm that mediates between the world we live in and the noumenal
world; the subject of the mystical experience; the metaphysics of light;
the One and the Many; the unity of existence; the immanence as well
as transcendence of God. For the Western reader, the discussions of
Japanese thinkers have the additional advantage of sinning a spotlight
on the vibrant intellectual milieu in which Izutsu lived.
Two aspects ofToshihiko Izutsu’s life seem central to an under­
standing of Izutsu, the philosopher of W O R D : his extraordinary gift for
languages —by his own reckoning he knew thirty —and an carlv, sem­
inal mystical experience. In a sense, the philosophy that he would go
on to develop was an attempt to articulate that experience not simply
through language but in linguistic terms. And yet, Izutsu was acutely
aware of the limitations of language and the wav it delimits our view
of the world. Differences in languages, and therefore in cultures, are
not superficial, he believed; they indicate differences in perceptions of
reality — lienee, his fascination with the different personae of God in
world religions, the many names for the One and his existential con­
cern about the “ clash of cultures.”
The embodiment of these two strands of language and spirituality is
the poet, prophet or shaman. Paul Claudel, the Prophet Mohammad,
the Taoist poet C l i ’ii Yuan, each experienced a mystical ekstasis (a state
of self-annihilation, of being literally outside of oneself) and enthousi-
asmos (being filled with Cod) and became a medium of rcyclation, a
conduit through which the diyinc word descends. Philosophers, too,
sene a similar function when they introduce new technical terms into
our yocabulary as Rudolf Otto did wuth the concept of Das Nuniiuose,
or Henry Corbin with the expression nnmdiis imagined is, or Japanese
thinkers such as Munewoshi (Soctsu) Yanagi, Sliuzo Kuki and Kitaro
Nishida, wrho contributed to the dcyclopmcnt of Japanese philosophical
terminology.
Izutsu clearly loeed poetry; he often cites, and translates, poems in
his works. What he says of the Russian poet Tyutehey — “ the primary goal
of poetry [was] to grasp intuitiycly the basic essence of the uniyerse, the
deepest lcyel of being, and to express his awareness of it symbolically
through yisual images” ' — is what he attempted to aehiewe in his own
philosophy. Ekstasis and enthousiasmos are not the goal of the mystic
philosopher any more than they are for a poet or prophet or shaman.
“A person who thoroughly explores the w'orld of Ideas and reyerenth
enters the secret inner chambers of transcendent life has the sacred
duty to come back down to the phenomenal wrorkl, ignite the flame of
transcendent life in its yery midst and w'ork diligently toward the ide­
alization of the rclatiye world.”' The katabasis, the descent from the
noumcnal w orld back down to the phenomenal world in which we liye,
is not the end of the mystical experience but the beginning of the mystic
philosopher’s mission. And that mission, as Izutsu himself described it,
is ultimately a practical one: to prepare “ a suitable locus in w'hicli . . .
mutual understanding” among cultures can be actualized.' To do so,
Izutsu drew upon his yast knowledge of Oriental thought to dcyclop a
philosophy of W ORD.
Izutsu’s starting point w'as the concept of /??[/, which is usually
translated as Non-Being or Nothingness. But far from being a static.

W ill
empty void, it is the primordial chaos, the undifferentiated One from
which the Manx- arise, i.e. Being itself. Drawing on the dlciyci-rijncina,
the Storehouse Consciousness in Yogacara Buddhism, he developed a
semantic theory of ontology/consciousness, a depth-consciousness phi­
losophy of language, which he called “ linguistic u/uvu-conseiousness.”
Dee]) in our depth consciousness is a realm where meaning exists in
the form of semantic potentials, blja, literally “ seeds.” Being manifests
itself as beings, or as Izutsu puts it elsewhere, “ Being is a meaningful
articulation of the absolutely unartieulated ‘Nothingness.'”4 In short,
Being is W O R D , “ the dynamic force of ontological articulation.” " In a
beautiful passage Izutsu described the instant in which W O R D mani­
fests itself as meaning:

As the countless tangled and intertwined “potential forms of

meaning” attempt to emerge into the surface brightness of meaning,
they jostle and joust with one another in the dusk of linguistic
consciousness —the subtle, intermediate zone where the “Nameless”
are just on the verge of metamorphosing into the “Named.” Between
“Being” and “Non-Being,” between unartieulated and articulated,
the specter of some indeterminate thing faintlv flickers.

But if “ Being is W O R D ,” our encounter with language takes on a

whole new dimension, and the role of the reader assumes a far greater
function than ever before.

Naturally, WORDs must be clear. To understand, through a chain

of clear WORDs that a writer has juxtaposed, the meaning behind
them that existed from the beginning in tbe writer’s mind —i.e. their
prelinguistie reality—that is what I call “reading.”

Toshihiko Izutsu’s definition of reading is perhaps even more applica­

ble to translating. Trying to grasp what the author wrote and make it
read as if he had originally written it in English is what I, as a transla­
tor, aspire to. And yet attempting to occupy even a small corner of the
wide-ranging mind of Eisuke Wakamatsu — not to mention the protean
intellect of Toshihiko Izutsu — has proved to be a daunting challenge,
one that I have fallen far short of meeting, as the manv corrections that
came back to me at the revision stage have made all too evident. These
mistakes have now, I hope, been eorreeted, but I am under no illusion
that I have suceeedcd in living up to the ideal that l/.utsu sets for the
read er/t ran si a tor.
1 would like to take this opportunitv to thank Fisukc Wakamatsu,
Rvoko Katahara and Rvoji Noguehi for checking mv translation, Miriam
Skew for her eareful proofreading and lhed Unwalla for his invaluable
eomments on everything from eontent to style. As always, Vasuo Saji,
with whom 1 have worked for more than thirtv vears, has been a pillar of
support during this projeet’s exeeptionallv long gestation proeess. 1 am
more grateful than I can ever express for his assistance at everv stage of
the translation and for his unfailing kindness and encouragement when
1 wondered whether 1 would ever he able to complete this work.
Blit, above all, my deepest gratitude goes to mv husband, Frank
I loff, w ho died last year on November yth and did not live to sec the
completion of this project, w hich wrc worked on together for nearly two
vears. lie ll as now' become mv '‘phantom man.”'

Jean Connell Hoff

Boron to
Februarv 16, 2014

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Toshihiko h u tsu , lecturing at the Era non Conference in the summer of 1979 in
Ascona, Switzerland.
Beginning in k j 6 j , h u tsu gave twelve lectures there, and he was to he person­
ally involved with Eranos for fifteen years; in the latter half of this period, his was
a central presence. Photo courtesy of'Yoyoko hutsu.
 II
4*

•«• ki •
 Shinpi tetsugaku:
1 he Birth of a Poet-Philosopher

The Pure Starting Point

nt d i s c u s s i o n o f Toshihiko Izutsu’s starting point must begin with

A Shinpi tetsugaku (Philosophy of mysticism). The same would also

hold true when discussing his intellectual origins or his personal history.
The Shinpi tetsugaku referred to here, however, is not the revised ver­
sion found in his selected works, but rather the first edition published
by llikari no Shobo in 1949, to which was once attached the subtitle,
Girishia no hu ( The Greek part). When references are made to passages
that he later rewrote for the sake of greater scholarly accuracy, the revised
version in his selected works will take precedence. But since the aim of
the present book is to follow the course of his intellectual pilgrimage, I
shall take the first edition of Shinpi tetsugaku as mv source, for, in this
work, we can clearly sense his living, breathing presence. When Shinpi
tetsugaku is written without further qualification, it is the first edition
that is meant.1
In 1989, when he was seventv-five vears old, Izutsu returned to the
original wording of the first edition for the republieation of A lahometto,
the brief biography of the Prophet Muhammad that he had written in
1952 and that had been published in a revised and expanded edition
under the title Isurawu seitan (1979; The birth of Islam).2 As in the ease
of A lahometto, it seems likelv that the first edition of Shinpi tetsugciku
had a special significance for 1‘Zutsu personally. In his later years, look­
ing baek over half a lifetime, Izutsu spoke reminiscently about this
work as his “ pure starting point.” "
It mav sound like a conclusion to sav so, but anvone who reads
Shinpi tetsugciku and Isliiki to honshitsu (1983; Consciousness and
essence) over and over again, even without having read any of his
other works, would be unlikely to misinterpret Toshihiko Izutsu as a
person. That is not to downplay the importance of his English-lan­
guage writings, whieh are as numerous as those in Japanese. But
even if these were included, the position of Shinpi tetsugciku and
Isliiki to honshitsu would not change. Indeed, if these two works were
to be translated into English, the world w'ould no doubt once again
acknowledge the philosopher Toshihiko Izutsu with the same aston­
ishment as it did at the time of the publication of Sufism and Tao­
ism (1966-1967).4 To ignore these two works is to lose sight of the eore
and framew'ork of his thought. For these two volumes not onlv deserve
to be indelibly engraved in the history of modern Japanese philoso­
phy, thev are also bis intellectual and spiritual autobiography. In this
regard, it is a matter of no small significance that Japanese people, for
whom the Japanese language is their mother tongue, read and under­
stand Toshihiko Izutsu’s works.
Izutsu’s first book was Arabia shisoshi (1941; History of Arabie
thought), which covered the period from the birth of Islam through
the twelfth-eenturv philosopher Averroes (Ibn Rushd). Most of his pub­
lished waitings that immediately preceded or followed were related
to Islam or the Arabic language. And since the journals to whieh he
contributed were Kaikyoken (Islamie Area) edited bv Koji Okubo
(1887-1950) and Shin Ajia (New7Asia), the journal of the East Asian
Economic Research Bureau headed by Shiuuei Okawa, people max'
have thought he wus a specialist in Islamie studies. But, in faet, Toshi­
hiko Izutsu’s encounter with Greek philosophv preceded his encounter
with Islam by more than ten years. The first universitv leetures he ever
gave were on the intellectual historv of Greek mysticism.
The “ Orient” is a kev term for understanding Izutsu, vet the souree
even tor it is to he found in Shinpi tetsugciku. In aneient Greeee, he
saw “ a classic example of the manifestation of a philosophy of identic
based on pathos and psyche that can well he called Oriental.”5 I will
not comment now on the unique topology that l/.utsu includes under
the term “ Orient.” lie sometimes ewen called it “ Greece and points
east.” Klsewhcrc he states that it is a spiritual realm not confined to any
geographical region.
Shinpi tetsugaku does not easily accommodate readers who pick
it up out of mere curiosity with no prior preparation. It reminds me of
a series of iiwisible harriers, one after another, that confront the spiri­
tual practitioner. No sooner does the reader open the hook than s/he
encounters a passage that says “ it is impossible to explain to people w ho
haye not experienced it personally, no matter who they may be.”6 On
the other hand, howewer, Shinpi tetsugaku is a work in which Ixutsu,
who almost never discussed his personal history, spoke frankly about
his own spiritual journey.

Toshihiko Izutsu was horn in Yotsiwa, Tokyo, in 1914, the oldest son
of his father, Shintaro, and his mother, Shinko. In a colloquy, Shotard
Yasuoka (1920-2013) asked him if his father was originally from Niigata,
and Ixutsu said yes." The younger son of a rice merchant, Shintaro
from his early days was fond of calligraphy, go and Zen. His passion for
Zen was so strong that he frequently w’ent to Eihciji, the main temple
of the Soto sect, to practice Zen meditation. He was also a person w’lio,
while doing calligraphy, experienced the unique sensation of “ actu­
ally feeling his mind he suddenly transmitted directly to his brush tip
and flow out completely on to the paper.” Calligraphy was not simply
a matter of writing characters, the father told his son; it is an “ unstop­
pable moyement of the arm and fingers. Feelings that are truly in a
person’s innermost recesses gush forth, communicate themselyes to the
tip of the hairs on the brush and come spilling out.”s
Ixutsu’s father was a businessman who attached as much impor­
tance to his daily meditation practices as he did to his w'ork. These
practices had absolutely nothing to do with exercises for wdiat in
common parlance is called mental concentration or the promotion
of health. The quotation that follow's is, as explained earlier, from
the introduction to the first edition of Shinpi tetsugaku published b\
Hikari no Shobo. When the work was later revised and included in his
selected works published b v C h i i o Koronsha, part of it was omitted.
The “ he” refers to Dutsu’s father.

There is a saying, “ embracing the ideal of the Madonna, one falls

into the abyss of Sodom and drowns” ; my father was just sueh an
unhappv, demon-possessed man who knew to the very depths of his
being this terrible division of the soul. Drawn bv some strange, irre­
sistible foree, step bv step, lie would sink down into the dismal depths
of ignominy, while at the same time he never stopped longing for
the grace-filled light of an absolutely serene and pure mind that is its
exact antithesis. Or, rather, lie felt more keenly than anyone else the
profound sinfulness in which human beings arc ensnared, as well as
a terror of it that makes the blood run cold, and that very fact seems
to have made him all the more fervent in the pursuit of truth, in the
search for a clean, undefiled state that can never be found in this
world, f or as long as I can remember, the austerities that I often saw
him perform had an air of desperation about them, as though they
were a matter of life and death. lie would sit ramrod straight all alone
in the tearoom deep into the late autumn night listening to the sound
of the distant wind through the pine trees and the bubbling of the
water boiling in the antique iron tea kettle. As he sat silently practic­
ing the technique of stopping the breath and looking within, a sense
of pain and suffering emanated from the figure of my father.9

Given the profound darkness of his inner heart and his extreme sensi­
tivity to sin, he may have thought his son, too, would experience the
same torments. It was, perhaps, to build a mind and body that could
withstand such suffering that he forced his son from an early age to do
zazen and to read without understanding such classic Chinese koan
collections as Lin Chi Lu (The Sayings of Master Lin-Chi), Pi Yen Lu
(The Blue C liff Records) and Wu Men Kuan (The Gateless Cate). In
a meditation practice, any allowances a spiritual guide makes for a stu­
dent’s weaknesses implies a lack of loye. Since the father’s austerities
were practiced on the borderline between life and death, it was inevita­
ble that the impact of sueh rigor would be passed on to his son.
 But it was not only Zen that his father taught him. “ I learned from
mv father his own unique introspective techniques. Or, rather, they were
forcibly drummed into me whether 1 liked it or not.” As these words
suggest, it would perhaps he more correct to understand even Zen as
merely a stepping-stone to his father’s personal introspective practices.

f irst, lie would write the eharaeter for “mind” (/lb) in hold, flowing
strokes; then, he would have me look at it intently da\ after dav for a
prescribed period of time. Kinallv, the moment he saw that the time
was ripe, lie would tear up the piece ot paper and tell me, “Don’t
look at the character written on the paper; look at the one inscribed
in vonr mind. Stare at it for twentv-four hours without stopping even
for an instant; gather your scattered thoughts together and focus
them on that one point." After some time had passed, he would order
me to “make cvcrv effort to erase all traces of the eharaeter written
in vour mind. Don’t look at the character for ‘mind’ hut at the living
‘mind’ within you that lies behind that eharaeter.” 'Then he would
go one step further and say, “Don’t look at your mind. Eliminate all
internal and external distractions completely and immerse yourself in
nothingness; enter nothingness, sec nothingness. ”10
As far as we can tell from reading this passage, the father’s ascetic prac­
tices do not seem to be the fixed meditation techniques handed down
bv any particular traditional religion. They also differ from the practice
commonly know'n as nciikan —introspection. As Izutsu writes, these were
probably his father's own “ unique introspective techniques.” H ie fact that
he was presented with a path free from specific religious tenets or practices
at the beginning of his spiritual life would turn out to he an extremely
important condition for the formation ofToshihiko Izutsu's eharaeter.
T he path to spiritual perfection is not hound by dogma, as the
sincere attempts by practitioners, both Zen and Christian, to perform
each other’s religious austerities in silence clearly show'. In such a con­
text, the aim is not a discussion of ideas but a deepening of understand­
ing. The former, it goes without saying, primarily' exists for the sake
of the latter. Izutsu’s recognition of the incxtricabilitv of practice and
thought never changed as long as lie lived. I Ie valued what he actually
felt over what he understood with his mind. That attitude is noticeably
present in his major work, Isliifa to honshitsu. Good examples of it are
his study of the spiritual exercises of the Zen monk Dogcn (1200-1253)
and how thev concurrently deepened his understanding, or the spiri­
tual exercises of Chu-tzu (1130-1200) and the Northern Sung Confu-
cians, namely, Izutsu’s studies of the importance of sitting meditation
and its correlation with scholarship. Toshihiko Izutsu’s views on ascetic
practices will have to be considered elsewhere.
His father, who was so free in his meditation techniques, emphati­
cally forbade his son “ to think.” Izutsu goes so far as to say, “ I was taught
that the inclusion of intellectual inquiry was heresy. . . . 1 believed that
[spiritual exercises] were, from first to last, the pure and simple path of
praxis, and even to think about them, or to think on the basis of them,
was absolutely not permissible.” 11
1 When lie says, “1 believed,” this docs
not mean he trusted his father and had a premonition that something
w ould come and save him. Bv following the path the intellect indicated,
the spirit would lose its way. And one day it would be destroyed. These
words were almost like a curse. But this paternal warning was also the
greatest expression of love his father could give him. For the son there
was simply no alternative but to believe. Izutsu’s encounter with Greek
philosophy occurred at the very moment of this dark night of the soul.
What he discovered in the Greek sages was a truth the exact oppo­
site of his father’s stern command. He discovered that it is philosophy—
the practice of the love of wisdom —by which he could find the wav to
the pursuit of truth; that the voices of the sages, passing down through
thousands of years of history, continue to raise fresh and vital questions
right up to the present da)'. This experience, it would be fair to say, v'as
like that of a man east adrift in a vast ocean grabbing hold of a plank
bobbing in the waves. Going against his father’s words, the son felt the
urge to “ think” well up within him. “Thinking” is not supposition. It
is different from speculation. “ Thinking,” a philosopher once said, is
the wav something that transcends human beings manifests itself to tbe
world through the intellect.

1 never imagined, never even dreamed, that philosophy and meta­

physics, which might be called the classic activities of human
 reasoning, are predicated on, and can be effectuated by, the experi­
ences of the contemplative life. But, later on. Western mystics would
teach me that the exact opposite of this was true. How great, then,
was my surprise and mv excitement when 1 learned that, at the base
of their philosophy, the Cheek sages in particular presupposed the
ecstatic experience of the v i t a c o n t e m p l a t i v a as the verv source of
their philosophic thinking. This is how 1discovered mv C.recce.'2
1 Ie docs not write the name of the philosopher who opened the way to
“ thinking” for him. Most likely it was Aristotle. But even if it w as not
Aristotle alone, 1 believe it was his encounter w ith the “sage of Slagira”
that would become the turning point in the chain of events that might
he called his philosophical revelation. Aristotle called the activity of the
transccndcntlv Absolute noesis noeseds, “ thinking about thinking,” the
self-cognitive power of reason.'" "The following quote is a passage from
the chapter on the mvstic philosophy of Aristotle in Shinpi tetsugaku.

Whs it not surely the case that the concept of the v i t a c o n t e m p l a t i v e !

as the perfection of human life in this world was an idea that derived
from Aristotle’s unique view of life? For the sage of Stagira, who firmlv
commended the absolute superiority of the intellectual and noetic
virtues over the active and practical ones, it was the paradise of pure
contemplation resembling the life of the gods that constituted the irre­
placeable zest of life, the culmination of human happiness on earth.'4
Can we not sec how consistent this passage is with the earlier one about
how “ 1 discovered mv Greece” ? The Aristotle who frcquentlv appears in
the historv of philosophv is the repudintor of the theory of Ideas and of
mvsticism. But the fact that Toshihiko Izutsu first encountered Aristotle
under the guise of a mystic philosopher would not only set the tone for
Shinpi tetsugaku, it woidd also serve as preparation for his encounter
with Islamic philosophy and the Islamic mvstic philosophers.
For Izutsu, the discovery of Greek philosophy was not a negation of
the spiritual exercises practiced with his hither. This is clear, too, from
his statement that the davs lie spent meditating with his father them­
selves constituted the vita contemplativa, "‘the culmination of human
life in this world.” Considering the permanence and profundity of its

/
impact, one cannot help but think that what Izutsu inherited from his
father was the activity of “ reading” rather than any introspective tech­
nique. His father, who had forbidden him to “ think,” required him
to read the Chinese texts of the Analects and the Zen classics. In a
spiritual praxis, the teacher will select works for students to read cor­
responding to the depth of their practice. T he act of reading Chinese
texts without understanding them teaches students that “ reading” is not
simply an intellectual aetivitv, it is an activity of “ feeling” deeply that
engages the entire body. At the Academy, too, where Aristotle studied,
“ reading” meant coming in contact with the mysteries.
“ Contemplation” is a translation of the Greek word theoria, from
which the word “ theory” is derived. It is also used in the sense of deep
consideration from its meaning of a contact with the Transcendent that
occurs beyond intellectual activity. Izutsu writes that “ pure contempla­
tion implies an eestatie experience of the human intellect.” '5 “ Pure con­
templation” is a synonym for theoria. When contemplation has attained
the ultimate in purity, one experiences ekstasis, the state of being out­
side of oneself. Ekstasis is, of course, the origin of the word ecstasv and
often refers to religious exaltation. But, in this context, we do not neces­
sarily have to call to mind the eestatie experiences of a saint like Teresa
of Avila. Ekstasis here is nothing less than the experience of making
the leap, as though out of longing, to the source of Being, “ in short, the
process by which a person’s inner soul or spirit sheds its external flesh
and returns to, or immerses itself in, the great source of realitv.” '6 But
were this activity' simply to end with “ ecstasv,” the spirit that had flown
from its flesh might be dashed to the ground. Instead, at the verv instant
in which one reaches the culmination of the “ eestatie experience,” one
immediately experiences enthousiasmos. In the twinkling of an eve,
those who have offered up their bodies and annihilated their own being
are filled bv the Transcendent. Having eompletelv emptied themselves,
they encounter the phenomenon of “ G o d ” instantly filling that void.
Kor the sages of ancient G re e ce , theoria was a sacred aetivitv,
a yearning for the Transcendent. An internal praxis, it was also an
activity that required them to put their lives at stake and face dan­
gers and ordeals far greater than those we experience in the external
world. Moreover, philosophy for them meant taking the experience of
enthousiasmos 11i at arrived at the ecstatic climax of self-annihilation,
endowing it with the flesh of logic and leaving a record of it behind for
the rest of the world. Por that reason, thev did not believe that philos­
ophy was of human origin. Plato had called the primal activitv of phi-
losophv anamnesis, and, as this implies, philosophv is not a matter of
thinking, it is an act of recollection, a retracing and gathering together
one’s remembrances of the intelligible or nonmcnal world.
lzutsu described himself as “ a Hellenist and a Platonist. This
statement was also a declaration that the existence of a transcendent
Intellect, and anamnesis of it, formed the basis of his own philosophy.
“ That conteniplalio is an essential element in the mystical process
requires no further discussion, but that does not mean that ekstasis per
se comprises the essence of mysticism itself. I laving onec attained the
loft\- heights of theoria, one must of one’s own accord bring it to fru­
ition through a resolute desire for a praxis that will dccisivelv destrov
the peace and tranquilitv of this beatific contemplation —that is mvsti-
eism.”lS This one passage eonciselv eonvevs the gist ot Shinpi tetsngaku.
Theoria , ekstasis, praxis — these wall all become key words that begin
here and run through the w hole of Toshihiko Izutsu’s thought. Theoria
does not alwavs entail contemplation. Nor does it end with the ecstatic
experience. It is not complete until it bears fruit in praxis.
When reading Shinpi tetsngaku, one becomes aw'are of how' fre-
quentlv, and how' diversely, the term “ praxis” is used. What lzutsu
unmistakably sets out to elucidate in this study is not a genealogv of
Greek mysticism; it is the course of praxis that mystics must follow,
the process bv w'bieh someone goes beyond self-diseoverv and returns
to the ontological source. lie called this the via mvstica. In order to
have a common understanding of the true nature of what he means
bv tbe “ mystic wrav,” I w'ould like to identify the background of sev­
eral kev terms: intellect and soul or spirit; the phenomenal world and
the Real World; the transcendental world or the nonmcnal world;
and finally, anabasis (the ascent) and katabasis (the descent). Instead
of these words, w;e might use an expression lzutsu would adopt later
on, “ semantic articulation.’’ Semantic anticulation was a concept that
would continue to live within him for the rest of his life. Phis is clear
in his last work Ishiki no keijijogaku: “Daijo kishinron” no tetsngaku
(1993; Metaphysics of consciousness: T he philosophy of the Awakening
of Faith in the Mahayana), w h’ich in its terminology, subject matter and
theses is strongly reminiscent of Shinpi tetsugaku. One example of this
is the passage cited below, in which he discusses the consciousness of
shin (>lb mind) in the Awakening of Faith , the Buddhist treatise tradition­
ally ascribed to the Indian philosopher-poet Asvaghosa (ca 8o-eai5o).
Although the topic under discussion is not the issue we arc concerned
with here, I would like you to read it taking note of the terminology.
“The important point . . . is that it is a transpersonal, metaphysical
eonseiousness-in-general, a purely intelligible body that has attained per­
fect enlightenment comparable with nous in Plotinus’ emanation theory
(an old-fashioned person might even call it a cosmic consciousness). To
speak of a cosmic consciousness or cosmic enlightened body would be
oyerly pretentious and passe,” Izutsu writes, and people today are not
likeb' to readily believe in “ the actual existence of such an infinitely
vast, transpersonal consciousness.” 19 Although here he uses expressions
like “ an old-fashioned person” and “ overly pretentious and passe,” in
the past he himself had often used the terms “ cosmic consciousness”
and “ cosmic enlightened body.” But that is not all. Nous , i.c. Intellect
or pure Intellect, was the most important kev word in Shinpi tetsugaku.
Indeed, were we to liken Shinpi tetsugaku to a fictional genre, it would
be fair to call it a long epic poem on the subject of nous. Behind the
changing scene, going back to the mythical period and passing down
through Thales, Pythagoras, Heraclitus, Xenophanes, Plato, Aristotle
and Plotinus, the true narrator in this work, the subjective voice of exis­
tence that continues throughout, is nous.
“ From the One to nous, from nous to the state of fallen souls, the
soul descends, losing its original divine form at every step. And at every
step the world, too, descends with it.” 20 Izutsu is here describing the
place in Plotinus’ emanation theory in which he discussed the creation
of all things. Simply put, nous is the first form in which the One mani­
fested its true aspect; this gradually changes its form to the “ fallen souls,”
namely to the “ body-soul” or “ embodied soul” of human beings. An
embodied soul is the aninia or psyche (from which the word “ psychol­
ogy” is derived), and it is distinct from pure spirit, the pneuina or spiri-
tus. In the present w ork, we w ill for the most part use “soul” to indicate
the former and “ spirit” for the latter. In Shinpi tetsugaku, Izutsu uses
the expression “spiritual enlightenment” or “ eosmie spiritual enlighten­
ment” ; this is an awakening of the spirit and means something greater
than the workings of the soul. The soul belongs to a person and defines
his/her individuality. The spirit is the seat of the One; it is proof that
human beings were born from the Transcendent. To borrow an expres­
sion from the philosopher Katsumi Takizawa (1909-19S4), soul and
spirit are inseparable vet unassimilatablc, and in terms of the superiority
of the spirit they exist in an irreversible relation to one another.
To read Shinpi tetsugaku paving attention to the key wrord “ world”
is to be amazed at its diverse classifications. The phenomenal world, the
Real World, the noumcnal world, the transcendental world cited above
are only a few’ examples. This w'ork could also be read as a discussion
of realms — Plato’s w'orld of Ideas, of course, the individuated world, the
sensible world, the world of sensible simulacra, the true world, the truly
real w'orld, the inner psychological world. 'Phis existential experience of
the world as a structure woven together out of many layers was prohablv
cultivated bv Izutsu’s daily meditation sessions with his father. What he
calls the “ phenomenal world” is the world that wre live in, and vet even
though phenomena occur in this world, lie docs not believe that the
“ reality” of these phenomena has been made clear. The w'orld in w'hich
“ reality” unquestionably exists Izutsu calls the “ Real World.”
It was probably in Rilke, I believe, that Izutsu encountered this
expression. In his library w'ere several old copies of Rilke’s w'orks. This
poet, w'hosc personal spiritual crisis reflected that of the late nineteenth
century, was, along with Mallarmc, a poet whom Izutsu loved and one
bv w'hom he wras strongly influenced. Rilke’s novel Die Aufzeichnungen
des Malte Laurids Brigge (1910; The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge,
1930) is nothing less than the record of a single sold living in the nar­
row interface between the Real World (ReciJitcit) and the phenomenal
w'orld (Wirklichkeit). Like Izutsu, Rilke, too, was faithful to his personal
feeling that the reality of truth is not revealed in this w'orld. Later, in
Jshiki to honshitsii, Izutsu would note that Rilke was behind his use of
the expression the “ Real World.”21
The noumenal world is, as the term suggests, the w'orld over which
nous, the Intellect, holds sway, and events transpire there that arc
beyond the conjectures of the human mind. T he transcendental world
is a general term for the Real World or the noumenal world. The nou-
menal world and the transcendental world both exist beyond the phe­
nomenal world, and in that sense there is no difference between them
and the Real World. But the difference in terminology is not merely a
rhetorical device. Rather, it reveals the subtlety of Izutsu’s contempla­
tive experience. He uses just the right word for the topic under discus­
sion. Just as Dante depicted the ten tiers of heaven, Izutsu recognizes
in the one absolute and transcendental world, several different worlds,
each with its own dvnamie persona.
The pursuit of the via inystica is often likened to climbing. The path
on which one utterlv annihilates the self and single-mindcdlv seeks the
noumenal world, Izutsu calls the anabasis , the ascent. A person who
thoroughly accomplishes this docs not live in peace in the noumenal
world, but must find his/her way back down once again to the phenom­
enal world and reproduce there the intelligible world’s ultimate realitv.
Izutsu calls this path the katabasis, the descent. A mountain climber’s
aim is not simply to reach the summit; s/he commits to memory the
seenerv seen there, and when s/he comes back down, must tell others
about it. Everything seen at the summit may be enchantinglv beautiful,
but to rest there would be only half the journey. Those whose eyes arc
so bedazzled bv the extraordinary phenomena of the world of the ascent
that they do not devote all their energies into putting what thev have
seen to practical effect have abandoned the via inystica and deviated
abominablv from rectitude. That is whv Izutsu docs not develop a phe-
nomenologv of the mvsteries or of mvstieism. To linger there is, rather,
“ to he addicted to meaningless child’s play” ;" “ to grow' dizzy in the daz­
zling brilliance” of the mystical experience “ and be carried away bv a
bloated self-conceit and self-complacency” is nothing short of a “ heresy
against mysticism.”2’ Although the following passage was perhaps an
unwritten law for the sages of ancient Greece, it was also an expression
of the rules that Izutsu set down for himself throughout his own lifetime.

Platonic sages who rise above the present world and experience
eternal life must leave behind that mystic realm of self-oblivion and
serene contemplation, like some deep limpid pool, and once again
 return to the present world, where thev must untiringly huild that
eternal world. A person who thoroughly explores the world of Ideas
and reverentlv enters the secret inner chambers of transcendent life
has the sacred dutv to come hack down to the phenomenal world,
ignite the flame of transcendent life in its very midst and work dili­
gently toward the idealization of the relative world.24

It is not hard to find sentences like this in the chapter on the mys­
tic philosophy of Plato, the central essay in Shinpi teisii«ciku. 1 le also
states, “ Kvcn though niv soul alone were saved, if the souls of all other
people, without exception, were not saved, the work of the mvstic
would not be complete.”2*' As this statement makes clear, lzutsu argued
tenaciously, without fear of repetition, for the absolute importance of
the kcitabasis in Platonic philosophy. Anyone who, at the culmina­
tion of contemplation, of one’s own accord, breaks through the state
of silence and dedicates him/hcrslf to the corrupt world in which wre
live —such a person for Toshihiko lzutsu is a “ mvstic.”
lzutsu writes of the “ mystic,” but in the mystic coexist the profound
thinker and the self-effacing practitioner. Most of the pre-Soeratic phi­
losophers w'ere “activists who lived in complete accord with the vibrant
spirit of their age; they wrcrc passionate practitioners inasmuch as to
think meant to act. . . . [Some] w'crc great and vigorous warriors who
stirred the hearts of their people and routed external enemies, or the
greatest statesmen of their age, epoch-making revolutionaries, brilliant
lawmakers for their native lands w ho saw' the corruption and degen­
eration of their country’s manners and customs and with the unre­
strained sincerity of patriotism resolutely stood up and reformed the
government.”26 In short, “ thev were all mystics before thev were philos­
ophers.”2" As this suggests, the word mystic is an expression that implies
spiritual training rather than human individuation, by which 1 mean
a special quality of the soul. Mystics are not mvstifiers, men of mam
words, clever rhetoricians expounding the mysteries. Mystics act before
thev speak. Their earnest desire is not to propound any “ ism.” 'They
are for salvation for everyone. Salvation is not a metaphor here. The
ultimate aim of Greek philosophy is not rational understanding but the
salvation of the soul.
 Izutsu s father, Shintaro, became ill and died in 1944. As was cited
earlier, he wrote about his father that he was “ an unhappy, dem on­
possessed man who knew7 to the very depths of his being this terrible
division of the soul.” T h e following passage was omitted at the time
Shinpi tetsugaku was reprinted. One cannot help thinking, however,
that his fundamental motivation for writing this w ork is inscribed here.

For someone w hose soul has been rent in two bv this fundamen­
tal schism, one step upward toward the grace-filled light is simul­
taneously one step in a downward plunge into darkness, a tragic if
inevitable consequence. As was onlv to be expected, just when my
father’s pursuit of the contemplative life seemed to have reached its
utmost limits, for him it meant, on the contrary, giving up on life
altogether, in other words, death —even though the consummation
of the vita contemplativa ought to have meant the consummation of
life itself."8

Death is one of the fundamental issues dealt w'ith in Shinpi tetsugaku.

And vet in that w'ork, there is alwavs a dialogue with the dead. Death
and the dead are not the same. Death is an event in the phenomenal
w'orld, but the dead are “ the liv ing” in the Real World. When Izutsu
discussed death, he never forgot the dead. That his father w7as always
present in the background of these discussions can somehow never he
in doubt. T he father whose pursuit of ascetic practices continued right
up until his death w'as the first “ mystic” to appear in Toshihiko Izutsu’s
life.
At the time of w'riting Shinpi tetsugaku, Izutsu was suffering from
tuberculosis and coughing up blood as he wrote. Death was closing in
on Izutsu himself.

The Sage of Stagira and the Saered Duty

Philosophy in ancient G reece, Izutsu w'rites, w7as, at its inception,
almost inextricably linked to the mysterion, the mystery religions. 'This
conviction — that, rather than being a historv of thought, the historv of
Greek philosophy is a profession of faith that originated in the mvsterv
religions —pervades Shinpi tetsugaku.
 As noted earlier, the spirit with whieh a person is endowed is proof
that s/he is separated off, or, to use one of Izutsu’s key terms, artienlatecl
from the Transecndcnt. If we aeeept the implications of this idea, then,
it could he said that spirituality is the act of aspiring to the One, who
is the spirit’s primordial reality. Greek spirituality underwent a huge
transformation with the emergence of a new’ god, a foreign god from
Tin ace to the north, Dionysus. 1/utsu does not think that the god Dio­
nysus was a product of the imagination dreamed up bv the Greeks in
the seventh century BC K . He believes in the reality of his existence
and treats it as a religious experience of a kind rarely encountered by
the human race. One should also not overlook the fact, lie notes, that
“ the rites that accompanied the worship of Dionysus in their original
form” w7cre “ a kind of shamanism based on mass hallucination and
extreme emotional excitement.”29 This means that shamanism, i.e. the
experience of a primitive enthousiasmos, lies at the root of philosophy.
Toshihiko Izutsu’s observation that Greek mvthologv is utterly
this-worldlv is profoundly interesting. In the age of mvth, the relation
between humans and gods had little to do with salvation. I he gods did
not promise to save the human race. But this new god proclaimed that
for those who believed in him there \\’as another world. Life did not
end in this world, the new god Dionvsus said; there was, in Buddhist
terms, a higcin, an “ other shore,” a world of nirvana and enlightenment.
The Greeks had believed that the present wrorld wras all there was, but
this god taught them that there wras another w’orld bevond it.
“ Dionvsus! Invoke the name of this fearsome god, and the trees
in the forests would stir, the steep mountains would shake in eerie,
unearthly rapture. A storm of mysterious ecstasy w’ould envelop the
whole earth; people, animals, trees, plants — all things would be
absorbed and united into one in a dark night of w'cird intoxication; wild
passions woidd surge up like a raging sea and run rampant w’ith horrific
power.’” 0 What w:c find here are sacrificial offerings, rapture, frenzy
and divine possession. To be sure, this god proclaimed to the people of
Greece that there was another world, but that did not mean lie prom­
ised them “personal salvation” or “ beatitude and the immortality of the
soul.” *1 T he ancient Greeks, wathout anv promise of fulfillment, w ere
searching for something that w'ould fill their inner hunger. When the
new' god manifested himself in the phenomenal w'orld, this w as surely
the expression of a primordial' human aspiration for salvation. Unable
to find satisfaction from the gods of mythology, the Greeks w'ere seek­
ing a life on an “ other shore,” eternal life.
“As w'ell as being able to provide a unique doctrinal structure and
an organization centered on secret ceremonies and rituals” in his posi­
tion as the chief god of the Orphic cult, Dionysus became “ for the first
time the god of a pan-Hellenie, other-w orldly religion.” '2 History has
not passed dowai much information about the true nature of Orphism.
An early religious sect founded by “ Orpheus, ‘a Thracian poet-priest’
hidden in the deep mists of legend” '' w'lio came from a foreign land, it
believed in transmigration and the immortality of the individual soul,
held secret ceremonies and preached that the path to eternal bliss lay
in a life of asceticism.
Concurrently with the attainment of spiritual salvation, the concept
of a spirit-flesh dualism emerged, and, concurrently with that, the ger­
mination of philosophy. In this brief moment in time, Pythagoras w'as
born. Not only were philosophy and religion inseparable, the concept
of philosophy untinged bv religion w'ould probably have never occurred
to him. Pythagoras was not alone in thinking this wav. This was the true
nature of philosophy throughout ancient Greece. “ Philosophy was a
mystery religion on a higher plane,” Izutsu writes, “ wiiere ‘truth’ was
hypostatized, so to speak, as a sacramental presence.” '4
“ Orphism-Pythagorism,” as Izutsu calls it in a single term, wras a
spiritual community in which the Orphic sect and the Pythagorean sect
w'crc intimately related to one another. Referring to Parmenides, who
is said to have been educated by the Pythagoreans, Izutsu discusses ini­
tiation, the ladder by wTich the soul ascends in the mvsterv religions.
This ladder has three rungs: The first is kcithcirsis meaning purification,
“ sweeping awav the emotional filth of the present world” ; next comes
myesis, “ abstaining from thought and becoming absorbed in contempla­
tion” ; and finally epopteia , “ spiritual enlightenment.” Kcithcirsis is the
purification of the mind, body and spirit. A lvesis is the overcoming of
intellectual speculation, and epopteia is entry into the mysteries. This
three-step framework of spiritual progress in the mvsterv religions was
adopted intact bv philosophy, but the final rung of the ladder, epopteia ,
“ the culmination of tlic mystery religions,” Izutsu savs, “ was the begin­
ning of philosophy.” ’1* If entry into the mysteries through the purification
and annihilation of being was the end of religion, then rising above this
and elucidating its praxis in the world we live in becomes the starting
point of philosophy.
It was not just the so-called pre-Socratic philosophers whose lives
were predicated on this fusion of religion and philosophy. That would
remain unchanged right dowai to Plotinus, with whom Shinpi tet-
siigciku concludes. Izutsu describes Plotinus as “ the final synthesis of
Ionian natural mysticism and the spiritual mysticism of the mystery
religions.” ’6 Plotinus, too, was likely to he both an inquirer into the
truth and a priest.

There is a famous painting by Raphael entitled “The School of

Athens.” In the center stand two sages. One wears an orange-colored
robe and points to heaven. The other, draped in blue, makes a gesture
with the palm ot his hand as though pushing down the earth. Kacli,
so the interpretation goes, is making a claim for the place where truth
resides. The figure pointing to heaven is Plato; the one insisting that
it is confined to the phenomenal world is Aristotle. 'Translated into
historv-of-thought terms, the painting depicts Plato’s theory of Ideas and
Aristotle's rejection of it.
Because of the sheer greatness of their teacher, most of the students
who gathered in the Academy, which Plato founded, wrere too busy
assimilating the thoughts he had passed down and never considered
deepening those thoughts themselves. This accomplishment, the his­
tory of philosophy tells us, would have to wait for the appearance of
Plotinus 600 years later. Most histories of philosophy make note of the
time gap between Plato and Plotinus and attribute the reason for it to
Aristotle. Aristotle, it has been argued, w as the subverter of Platonic
philosophy. Aristotle “ declared that he loved his mentor but loved the
truth even more.” ’" Phis conviction burned within him from the time
he was in the Academy, the home of philosophy. It is likely that Aris­
totle was well aware of the tenacity of his own skepticism, but at the
same time he also knew' all too well that w'hcn challenged, his former
master’s ideas would not be easily shaken.
 There is a flower. People do not doubt their belief in its “ reality.”
But in Platonic philosophy, the things that people perceive with their
five senses are regarded as merely eikones (illusions or images). What
truly exists are the Ideas. No matter how beautiful a flower mav be, it
cannot be called really real (ontos on). It is an incomplete representa­
tion, a mere shadow' of the Idea of Flow-er. Be it stones, people, kings,
citizens, states or even concepts such as beauty, courage, equality', this
ride does not change. As many Ideas exist as the number of beings.
And, Plato believed, the Ideas of all things ultimately converge on the
Idea of Ideas, namely the Idea of the Good. If, however, the Ideality or
Intelligibility' of Being is ubiquitous, as Plato posits, why must it be lim­
ited to the w'orld of Ideas in heaven? Why doesn’t it appear right now
at this moment? In short, u'hy shouldn’t it be realized in the world that
human beings see and feel? “ If Being is intelligible, then that w ould
not mean that the Being of the heavenly w'orld somew'hcre far awav
from the actual w'orld in w'hieh wre truly, tangibly live is intelligible;
this tangible w-orld of being, the stuff of becoming, must be intelligible.
T h e real, raw being that bleeds when cut would have to be intelligi­
ble.” 58 This thought w'ould become Aristotle’s starting point.
Certainly, Aristotle destroyed the “ image” of Plato. But w-asn’t this
image a false idol of their mentor thatr the Platonists had created? Aris­
totle w'as not the subverter of Platonic philosophy. In Aristotle, Izutsu
sees “ a sincere Platonist,” his most faithful follower.39 He also states that
“Aristotle was a pure mvstie, no less so than either his former teacher
Plato or Plato’s much later disciple Plotinus.”40 Izutsu was speaking
of Parmenides w'hen he wrote, “ In the final analysis, metaphysics is
theology,”41 but he probably had Aristotle in mind at the time. T h e
fundamental unitv of metaphysics and theology wras a basic issue for
Aristotle. From its inception, Aristotle’s philosophy was nothing other
than “ theology.” But the “ theology” referred to here does not mean a
human understanding of “ G o d ” by human beings. According to Shinpi
tetsugaku , a philosopher is someone w'ho is entrusted bv the Tran­
scendent with restoring Its true image through w'isdom. Thedria , con­
templation, is undoubtedly the path of ontological inquiry, but what
precedes it is an invitation from the Source. It resembles the act of
surrendering oneself totally to the beloved, Aristotle said. T he Aristotle
to w'hom Toshihiko Izutsu draw's attention is not an analytic student of
“ Cod.” He is the practitioner-thinker w ho loves him.
Izutsu alludes to oreksis, w'hich Aristotle explains as an instinc­
tive desire for the Absolute w ith w'hich human beings are cndow'cd.
In order to save human beings from confusion and despair, Aristotle
believes, Cod implanted in them the instinct to love; thus, it is innately
part of human beings’ true nature to seek the source of their being for
themselves. Underlying Aristotle’s “ thcologv” is his trust in the Abso­
lute and his firm belief in a place of repose. It even calls to mind a
maternal image of God suggestive of Amida N\orai in the teachings
of Jodo (Pure Land) Buddhism. The dulv of the mvstic is to arrive at
an understanding of God, not in order to give oneself up to the plea­
sures of the sweetly beautiful experience of divinitv but to prepare for
the divine manifestation. Whv? Because it is the mission of philosophy,
w'hich Aristotle inherited from his teacher, Plato, that “ one must never
stop until the benefits of personal salvation are shared bv all people,
and ultimately there is salvation for the entire human race.”42
Aristotle, according to Toshihiko Izutsu, not only stated plainly that
contemplation is the via philosophicci. He taught that the ultimate goal
of the contemplative experience is to transcend individual limitations
and constraints and eventually make possible a “ cosmic praxis.” This
is nothing less than the “ culmination of the pragmatic activities of a
person who assumes upon him/herself the weight of all beings bv wav
of a human praxis, i.e. a cosmic praxis.”4’ If a single being experiences
enthousiasmos in the true sense, this means blessing for the w'orld. Is
it not possible to hear in these w'ords the voice of the prophet loudlv
proclaiming the eoming of Jesus of Nazareth, or the transformation of
Shakvamuni into the Buddha, in short, the sanctification of the human
being?

The Poet Who Prophesies

In his undergraduate days, Toshihiko Izutsu belonged to the Depart­
ment of English Literature in the Faculty of Letters, but opinions dif­
fer as to the topic of his graduation thesis. His friend Masao Sekine
(1912-2000), w'lio later became an Old Testament scholar, said it was
on C h au cer’s litcrarvj style;
* a former student and later a university- eol-
league, Hideichi Matsubara (I930- ), said he heard from Izutsu him­
self that it was on William Morris. In anv ease, when Izutsu became
a teaching assistant, he suddenly began lecturing on “ the history of
Greek mystic thought.”

Unfortunately, the nationalist trend of thought on the campus as a

whole at the time had little sympathy for such purely transcendent
reflections; in addition, relations between the US and japan were
rapidly grow'ing strained. The situation at home and abroad had
become so tense that most students were mobilized midway through
their studies, and I was forced to interrupt my plans.44

T he reason the lectures at Keio University were discontinued was not

simply the intensification of the war. As can be inferred from “ the
nationalist trend of thought on the campus as a whole had little sym­
pathy for such purely transcendent reflections,” pressures were brought
to bear that were hard to resist. Had he merely dealt with “ mysticism”
as one concept in the history of thought, however, it is unlikely that
anyone would have raised a fuss. Toshihiko Izutsu’s personal history as
a practicing mvstie, which is clearly evident in Shinpi tetsugaku, mav
already at this time have made those around him uneasy. If we wish
to try and understand “ mystics,” “ we ourselves must penetrate into the
quiet depths of the mysteries of the universe with the same insight that
thev had and transform the condition of our own spiritual awareness
through the same experiences as theirs.”4’ It is not hard to imagine him
uttering words such as these from a lecture stand. During the war, the
“ G o d ” of which Izutsu spoke was not an entity that the “ nationalist
trend of thought” would tolerate.
Izutsu received no training in philosophy at the university. Indeed,
it mav be that this very fact determined his intellectual development.
T h e re was, of course, someone whom he called his teacher, Jun-
zaburo Nishiwaki, whom he described as his “ one and onlv mentor in
mv entire life.”46 A scholar of English literature, a philologist, linguist
and poet, Nishiwaki presumably is the person who gave permission for
the lectures that formed the basis for Shinpi tetsugaku. Nowadays, I
“ have become as gentle as a lamb,” but at the time he entered college.
lie was “ truly cocky and conceited [and] looked do\yn on most of the
professors.”4 Since Izutsu says so himself, this is prohahly true. In his
colloquy with Shotaro Yasuoka as well, he saws he was “ pretty wild”
at M i t a T And according to Yasalniro Ikeda (1914-1982), during an
English class, Izutsu made a list of the teacher s mistakes and handed it
to him, and he wrote his geography exam in English.
Izutsu had originally enrolled in the Faculty of Economics at Keio.
lie did so because his father would not giyc him permission to enter
the Faculty of Fetters, lo his father, who read Soseki constantly, litera­
ture was a path only geniuses were allowed to pursue; he may haxe felt
it had nothing to do with his son. I le “ held me, 1 thought, in \ ery low
esteems,”40 Izutsu writes, hut that does not mean he felt his son lacked
ability. If that had been the ease, he probably w ould not haxe made his
son practice the mystic wax’ from an early age. The father who forced
him to enter the Faculty of Economies max' have expected that his son
woidd he active in the business world like himself. After registration,
when Izutsu sat in his assigned seat, Yasaburo Ikeda sat next to him and
Morio Kato (1913—1989) sat behind him. What the three had in com­
mon \\’as that thev^ had all enrolled in the Faculty. of Economics with-
out any real interest the subject and thev all had a passion for literature.
Thev resolved to switch to the Faculty of Letters. On the dav the exams
in the economics faculty were ox er, the three of them xxrent to Sukix-
abashi in Ginza and, from the top of the bridge, threxxr their heaxy text­
books on the principles of bookkeeping “ into the muddxr rix er, and xx ith
that sewered our ties xx’ith economies once and for all and in high spirits
entered the Faculty of Letters.” 50 It xx’as no doubt quite an exhilarating
and unforgettable moment; Ikeda and Kato both left similar accounts.
Eorty-fixre years later, upon his return from Iran, Izutsu began a
series of short essays in Sanshokuki (Tricolcur), the journal of the cor­
respondence course dix ision at Keio Unix'crsity. For a man xxTo xx as
guarded in talking about himself, these form an interesting bodx’ ol
w ork that frankly retraced the course of his life. In one of these, “ Shi
to llo x u ” (Teachers, colleagues and friends), he said he had no col­
leagues. As for friends, hoxvcx'cr, the first to come to mind, he xvrites,
is Yasaburo Ikeda. In the Analects, the xyord translated here as “ col­
league” means a scholarly companion, and “ friend” is a close friend.
When Izutsu and Ikcda first met, the two of them “ for some reason
were crazy about philosophy.”'Yasaburo Ikcda, who would later estab­
lish himself as an authority on Japanese folklore, was so passionate
about philosophy that he left Izutsu mute with amazement; “ I am going
to create an Ikeda philosophy one day,” he said at the time. “Yes, I have
decided on an Ikeda philosophy/’5' But after making the acquaintance
of Professor Shinobu Orikuchi, Ikeda suddenly turned his attention to
Japanese literature.
Yasaburo Ikcda and Morio Kato would both later occupy a special
position among Shinobu Orikuchi’s students. Back then, they entered
his entourage as if being swallowed up by it, and Izutsu alone knocked
at the door of Junzaburo Nishiwaki and became his student. He hated
groups. “ Scholarship is something to be practiced by oneself alone; it
must be a solitary occupation. That was something I decided for myself
at an early age.” 52 As these words suggest, the conviction that scholarship
was a path that must be travelled alone and ought not to be pursued in
a group grew even stronger within him once he met Nishiwaki. T he
reason he did not become a follower of Orikuchi’s was because of the
“ rigid collegial structure of Orikuchi idolators.” But that did not mean
he had no interest in Shinobu Orikuchi. “ I felt an indescribable awe
and fascination with Shinobu Orikuchi himself and the uncanny aura
that surrounded him. . . . He was dangerous,” Izutsu believed, and if he
were dragged into Orikuchi’s “ magic circle,” he would never be able to
extricate himself.53 Thus, when the two of them had chosen their respec­
tive paths, Ikeda ceased to be a “ colleague” and became a “ friend.” In a
colloquy with haiku scholar Kenkichi Yamamoto (1907-1988) entitled
Shi no kokoro (1969; T he heart of poetry),S4 Junzaburo Nishiwaki said
that, even after becoming his student, Izutsu not only kept on attending
Shinobu Orikuchi’s lectures, he even continued to tell Nishiwaki what
Orikuchi had said.
Izutsu had become aware of Junzaburo Nishiwaki the poet during
his middle school days. He loved reading Shi to shiron (Poetry and
poetics), the poctrv magazine to which Nishiwaki contributed the dis­
cussions of poetry that were later published as Chogenjitsushugi shi­
ron (1929; On surrealist poetry). A passage in the introduction to this
work makes one feel one is reading this poet’s confession, as it were.
"Discussing poetry is as dangerous as discussing God. For all con­
cerned, poetics arc dogma.” 55
The various sages known as the pre-Socratic philosophers arc not
the sole occupants of center stage in Shinpi tetsugaku. “Theodicy in
Greece first presented itself as a clear problem beginning with the lvric
poets in the sixth century B G F . . . . None of the Greeks before the time
of the lyric poets thought about” the fundamental problems of human
existence.56 As this passage makes clear, it was the poets Sappho and
Pindar whose appearance proclaimed the dawn of philosophy. As for
Xenophanes, who was probably Izutsu s favorite of all the ancient Greek
poets, he might even he called a “ poet-prophet.” By this l/.utsu does
not mean someone who predicts the future. Poets are nothing less than
those entrusted with the word of God. If overcoming the limitations of
one’s individual experience, making it universal and then fashioning it
sub specie aeternitatis is the beginning of philosophy, then philosophy
can certainly trace its origins to Greek lvric poetry. Greek lvric poems
were the “ songs of reality.” Unlike the poets before them who sang of
the gods and the polis, the lyric poets sang about the individual realities
of “ love, jov, pleasure, pain, agony and anger.” 5" Poetry and philoso­
phy, or, to put it another wav, poetry and transcendence — if one were
to describe Junzaburo Nishiwaki’s influence on Toshihiko Izutsu, that
would be it. Poetic theory is filled with the same potential dangers as
theology: The instant such theories are put into words, the}7 lapse into
dogma. And yet, people still write them. If, for example, it were possible
to produce an image, even only an afterimage, though far from perfect,
praver, the ontological proof of transcendence, would achieve its pur­
pose. The spirit of this poet was passed dow n directly to his student.
T h e passage that follows is the poem entitled “ T e n k i” (Fine
Weather) at the beginning of Ambcin'cilici (1933), Junzaburo Nishiwaki’s
famous first book of Japanese poetry.

A morning “like an upturn’d gem”

People are whispering with someone by the door
It is the day of the god’s nativity.-^
The group of poems that follows Nishiwaki entitled “ Grecian F ries.”
One cannot help feeling that, w hile Izutsu wras w riting S/////p/ tetsugaku,
lie was thinking of Nishiwaki at the time. Poetry links human beings to
God through words; put this wav, Izutsu would probably not deny it.
Henri Bremond, w'ho w rote about poesie pure , “ pure poetry,” said
that the ultimate form of poetry is prayer. "Phis philosopher and man
of letters, who was also a Catholic priest, had a strong influence on
Toshihiko Izutsu. According to Bremond, the true “ poet” is someone
who endows a prayer with the flesh of logic in the hope that it will be
of use to all people. Such a person is not necessarily limited to com ­
posing poetrv, however. If his destiny was to rule, history called him a
tyrant. “T h e countless tyrants, poets and philosophers who sprang up
everywhere in [ancient] G reece,” Izutsu w'ritcs, Avere three different
kinds of flowers that all blossomed forth with the identical spirit at their
root.” S9 The first half of Shinpi tetsugaku, in addition to being a history
of thought, also contains outstanding discussions of poets and poetry.

“ T h e true successor to the spirit of Plotinus wras not Proclus or

lamblichus but Saint Augustine,” Izutsu writes.60 T h e spirituality of
Plotinus did not end with the history of Neoplatonism; it w as grafted
onto the tree of Christianity, he says, and flourished even more greatly.
This observation accords with the facts of intellectual history, but these
words also convey a different truth. Before this passage, Izutsu writes
as follows. “1 myself am not a Christian; in terms of w'orld view’, 1 am
merely a Platonist, a pure Hellenist, but I believe that, at least as far as
Western mysticism is concerned, Platonism did not reach its culmina­
tion in Greece after all. Instead, it attained its ultimate state in Chris­
tian contemplation.”6' The time wTen he was writing Shinpi tetsugaku
overlapped w'ith the period in which Izutsu came closest to Christian
thought, and, in particidar, to Catholic thought; so great was its influ­
ence that he had to deny it and say “1 am not a Christian.”
The influence of Plotinus was not passed on to Proclus in its perfect
form, Izutsu savs. Although he hardly ever mentions Proclus, the latter’s
thought entered deeply into the thought of John Eriugcna, the medie­
val Christian theologian to whom Izutsu frequently refers. Izutsu is, of
course, aware of this fact. But were wc to take his words at face value
and pass over Proclus, wfc would be overlooking the role that philosophy
played in his time. Plotinus lived in the third century, a period of steady
Christian expansion, and has left works refuting Christianity Proelns
lived in the fifth eentnrv, and b\’ this time the situation had become more
chaotic. In an attempt to protect Creek philosophy from the encroach­
ment of Christianity, he wrote The Elements of Theology and Platonic
'rheology. As we can see simply from these titles, they convey the status
of philosophy at the time —that it was synonymous with theology
In Proelns, or On I lappiness, Marinus of Samaria w rites about the
life of his teacher in a way reminiscent of that of a medieval monk/’2
When Proelns spoke in public during a celebration of Plato’s birth­
d a y his figure was filled with light, Marinus says, and the words that
emanated from his mouth spread out like waves, and sometimes even
seemed like falling snow. One day the statesman Rufinus, known for his
noble-minded character, saw a halo of light around Proelns’ head as he
spoke; when the lecture ended, it is written that he worshipped Proelns.
People today might sav that the storv is simply allegorical, or, if not, a
ease of the deification of a living man. But is that correct? It was not
Proelns whom the statesman worshipped; it was the Transcendent who
manifested Itself through Proelns. Marinus wrote this biography the Near
after his teacher, Proelns, had died. Not enough time would have passed
for the facts to be distorted to such an extent. Keen in Proelns’ time,
philosophy was more than an academic discipline; it was the study of a
praxis that prepares for the manifestation of the Intellect in the world
in which we live. The philosopher was also a shaman, a hob' medium.
Shinpi tetsugaku ends with a chapter on the mystic philosophy of
Plotinus. But the relationship between this sage and Toshihiko Izutsu
had only just begun. After Jshiki to houshitsu, and more than forty years
after Shinpi tetsugaku, he would once again discuss Plotinus directly
Not that he did not speak about Plotinus in the interim. lie may not
have mentioned Plotinus by name, but he spoke about his thought.
Toshihiko Izutsu’s interest in Plotinus would continue right up until
his death.

Mitsuo Ucda and Soctsu Yanagi

“ Cirishia no shizenshinpishugi: Cirishia tetsugaku no tanjo” (Creek
nature mysticism: l he birth of Creek philosophy), a discussion of the
pre-Socratie philosophers, the sages who are ealled the Greek natural
philosophers, was included aS'an appendix to Shinpi tetsugaku. It was
originally supposed to have been published as a separate monograph,
but when it was at the type-setting stage, the publishing company went
bankrupt. T he person who scooped it up was Mitsuo Ueda, the presi­
dent of Hikari no Shobo.

The writing of the present book was not originally my idea —being in
ill health and only too aware of my own incompetence, how could I
on my own have contemplated undertaking a large-scale work such
as this? —but spurred on from the outset by Mr Ucda’s enthusiastic
support and encouragement, I proceeded with the task. If, by good
fortune, this work should in some sense serve as a useful companion
to young people burning with a passion for metaphysics, and if I am
able to continue this work in good health and bring it to completion,
then credit for the entire achievement must go not to mvself but to
Mr Ueda.6'
Izutsu’s gratitude to, and reliance on, Ueda implicit in the statement
that “ credit for the entire achievement must go not to mvself but to Mr
Ueda” probablv ought to be taken at face value. It is clear from the sen­
tence that precedes it that his encounter with Ueda was an important
turning point in the birth of Shinpi tetsugaku. Despite his ill health,
Izutsu set aside the parts that he had already written and began to w rite
the text afresh. He wrote the section on pre-Soeratic mvstie philosophy
and the parts that discussed the mystical philosophies of Plato, Aristotle
and Plotinus at this time.
Nowadays, few if any people are likely to have ever heard of Mitsuo
Ueda. All that we have to go on are Shinpi tetsugaku and the other
works he brought out as the head of a publishing house; the books that
he himself wrote or translated; and the few sentences in which Taruho
Inagaki (1900-1977) discusses him. Nothing is known of his personal
background, when or where he was born, or when he died. The works
he translated include Kant’s Critique of Pure R e a s o n Sehelling’s Phi­
losophy o f Revelation 6s and Eeehner’s On Life after Death 66 I Ie was
also the author of Harutoinan no nuiishiki no tetsugaku (Hartmann’s
Philosophy of the Unconscious), a guide to Eduard von Hartmann.6"
Translation is the offspring of the marriage of criticism and a passion­
ate act of reading on the part of the translator. If a translator engages
actively and subjectively with the work s/he is translating, a “ transla­
tion” can tell ns about the personality of its translator as effectively as
an “ original” work can.
Ueda’s Kant is a philosopher who thoroughly explored the outer­
most limits of human reason without denying the existence of a tran­
scendental world. Schclling was a mystic philosopher who developed
a theory of revelation. Kechncr, who was born in ninctccnih-ccnturv
Germany, started out as a physicist and later became a philosopher.
The book Ueda translated was his most important work; a groundbreak­
ing philosophical study on the dead, it was widely read throughout the
world. Fechncr had an influence as well on the young Soctsu Yan-
agi, and his name appears many times in Yanagi’s works. Hartmann’s
“ unconscious” differs from the unconscious in psychoanalysis. He was
a reclusive thinker who taught that consciousness and unconsciousness
existed even in the cosmos.
Ueda’s publishing activities can be roughly divided into two peri­
ods: managing the Japanese Association of Science and Philosophy
(Nihon Kagaku Tetsugakkai), which he began short]}' after the war
ended in Nagano, to which he had evacuated for safety reasons; and
managing Hikari no Shobo between 1947 and 1949 after his return to
Tokyo. His relationship with Izutsu, of course, came after the latter had
started up. Before that, according to Taruho Inagaki in Tokyo tonso-
kyoku (1968; Tokyo fugue), Ueda ran a small flying school on reclaimed
land at SusakiO
On the colophon to Shinpi tetsugciku, in addition to Hikari no
Shobo, which was listed as the distributor, the names given as the
entities responsible for “ planning and publication” were the “ Reli­
gious Order of the Philosophic Way/Mvstic W av” (Tetsugakudo
Kyodan-Shinpido), the “ Philosophy Monaster}'” (Tetsugaku Slnidoin)
and the “ Logos Free University” (Logos Jiyfi Daigaku). The address
for all three was identical to that of Hikari no Shobo. To understand
these somewhat puzzling names, a bit of explanation is perhaps in
order. First, the “ Religious Order of the Philosophic Way/Mvstic Way.”
'Phis organization was formal!}' registered as a “ religious order,” or what
today would be called a “ religious corporation.” To it belonged tbe
“ Philosophy Monastery” and'tbe “ Logos Free University.” T h e main
entity was clearly the “ Religious Order of the Philosophic Way/Mys-
tic Way.” T h e other two were educational facilities. T h e relationship
among them might he easier to understand hv analogy to the relation
between Sophia University in Tokyo to its founders, the Society of
Jesus, and that of the Jesuits as a religious order to the Roman Catholic
Church.
Mitsuo Ueda did not use these specific names right from the start.
T he first to he founded was Ilikari no Shobo. The entity responsible
for planning and publication can he ascertained from the first volume
of Sekai Tetsugaku Koza (Lectures on world philosophy), which eamc
out in Deeembcr 1947. At first, the planning department used only the
name of the Japanese Association of Seience and Philosophy, which
dated from the Nagano period. The Logos Free University was added
the following year, although U eda’s plans for it also date hack to his
wartime stay in Nagano. Mitsuo Ueda’s achievements as a publisher
were supposed to converge on the Sekai Tetsugaku Koza series, which
was begun as a planned nineteen-volume set plus a supplementary vol­
ume. In the end, however, the volumes were published out of sequence
and ended with volume fourteen, Shinpi tetsugaku. Only about half
the planned works were published.
T h e first volume of the series was a composite \\rork containing
Fnsho Kanakura’s Indo tetsugcikushi (History of Indian philosophy) and
Tsutomu Iwasaki’s Girisha tetsugcikushi (History of Greek philosophy)/’9
Fnsho Kanakura (1896-1987) was an authority on ancient Indian phi­
losophy, and Tsutomu hvasaki (1900-1975) was an outstanding scholar
of Greek philosophy, especially Aristotle. A posthumous w ork of his is
Tetsugaku ni okeru sukui no inondai (1982; The question of salvation in
philosophy)."’0 Although his history of Greek philosophy is a short work,
it wfas mueh loved by its author, and many people consider it his most
important hook. Toshihiko Izutsu’s relation w'ith Hikari no Shobo dates
hack to sometime before Mav 1948 at the latest. He contributed Arabia
tetsugaku (Arabie philosophy) for volume five of the series, which was
another composite w'ork that included Bukkyo tetsugaku (Buddhist phi­
losophy) w'ritten bv llakuju Ui e ta l.-1
 It wras just around this time that Taruho Inagaki by chance came
across a copy of I'etsugaku to Kagaku (Philosophy and Science), the
journal that Ueda published. lie sent IJcda a letter, and a close friend­
ship began. At one time Taruho lodged at the Logos Free University.
Since he was finding it difficult to make a living, Ueda employed
him as the bead of the university’s Astronomy Department. O f Ueda,
Taruho would later write that a perceptive gentleman coexisted with a
charlatan and a boorish tyrant. Taruho was slow to get started on the
work he promised, however, and Ueda lost patience with him and, a
short time later, kicked him out. Taruho does not seem to have let him­
self be carried away by emotion when speaking about Ueda, however,
and his account of him appears to be impartial.
In May 1949, when the second volume of Ucda’s translation of
the Critique of Pure Reason came out, suddenly the name “ Philoso­
phy Monastery, an affiliate of the Religious Order of the Philosophic
Way” (Tctsugakudo Kyodan Shozoku Tetsugaku Shndoin) began to be
used alongside the Logos f ree University. The publication of Shinpi
tetsugaku occurred four months later. The lectures on world philoso­
phy series wras not published for the general public. As the description
“ seminar teaching aids” suggests, they were meant to be teaching mate­
rials for the Logos Free University and meditation guides for the Philos­
ophy Monastery. Shinpi tetsugaku, which was also sold as a book, was
an exception. To be more precise, this book had two editions, one for
Hikari no Shobo and the other for the Philosophy Monastery, and the
covers were slightly
y . different. This fact tells us not only
j
that in Ucda’s
mind there was a clear distinction between the two but also suggests
the strong feelings he had for this work.
The original works and translations bv Mitsuo Ueda cited above
might seem to be the sum total of his output, but there are also writings
that were distributed free of charge or available only to students attending
seminars on the world philosophy lectures. O f the two that 1 have, one is
‘“ Junsui shiikyo’: tctsugakudo • shinpido wa mini ka?” (“ Pure religion” :
What is the Religious Order of the Philosophic Wav/Mystic Wav?” ; the
other is “ Sekai Tetsugaku Ko/.a Ljkan, l^kan, shudo shidoslul” (Lectures
on world philosophy, vol. 14 and 15, a practical guide.” “ ‘Junsui slmkyo’”
is a pamphlet filling up around seventy pages of fine print that might well
be called the religious corporations manifesto. In it, under the headings
“ Rul es of the ‘Religious Order of the Philosophic Way/Mystic Wav’”
(six chapters and 21 articles) and “ Structure of the Religious Order,”
is a discussion of its system of spiritual practices: the teaching of the
Hlnayana and Mahavana schools of Buddhism and a guide to practical
training in the mysteries. The latter work is a guidebook by Mitsuo Ucda
to Toshihiko Izutsu’s Shinpi tetsugciku and Eijiro Inatomis Purotinos no
shinpi tetsugciku (Plotinus’ philosophy of mysticism)."2 More than ninety
percent, however, is given over to an examination of Shinpi tetsugciku.
This is not a simple sum m ary Although it is impossible to go into a
detailed discussion of it here, Ueda’s reading of Shinpi tetsugciku is both
accurate and existential. He states positively and passionately that the
act of truh' “ reading” ancient Creek philosophy is in itself directly linked
to the philosophic wav.
In ‘“ hmsui shukvo,’” Ueda first defines what he means by “ reli­
gion.” It is ‘'the effort by which God, who is pure experience, ‘attempts
to return to himself bv affirming himself in an absolutely apophatic
wav.’” “The God, who is pure experience,” is also the “ I” who is insep­
arable from “ God.” Religion is the act of affirming oneself through an
absolute negation while attempting to return to one’s pure state. Ueda’s
statement is hard to understand without presupposing his firm con­
viction that, in a fundamental sense, there is no separation between
God and humankind, that human beings exist within Cod. Creation
for God is always an internal act. People are not born from God and
exist in a world somehow external to him; human beings always remain
within God. Consequently, Ueda believes that, rather than being some­
thing that is finally achieved as the result of effort, a “ religious” act for
humankind is Aristotle’s act of oreksis, discussed earlier, in other words,
an instinct, an innate craving.
An “ absolute apophatic affirmation” is an expression that Izutsu
used in Shinpi tetsugciku. ' The relevant passage from Shinpi tetsugciku
is also cited in Ueda’s account of it. That is not all, however; a single
reading will clearly confirm that book’s influence everywhere in this
pamphlet. When defining “ pure religion” Ueda writes that it is “ the act
of experiencing the pure essence of religion and worshipping the pure
essence of God and Buddha.” Running through this small booklet is
both the extraordinary lament of a person who had witnessed firsthand
the moral decay of existing religions and the profound reverence and
longing for the Absolute of a man who has seen the light of salvalion.
“ From the time I began middle school, mv heart was ablaze with
the quest for God,” Ueda writes in “ ‘Junsui shiikyo’” ; he studied at a
Buddhist university hut was unsatisfied, attended a Christian university
and later knocked at the door of Shinto. “ I also sludied the esoteric reli­
gions of India, Persia, Arabia and Greece, read thousands of volumes
on philosophy and religion from Japan and abroad, undertook fasts and
other austerities, and for these past forty long years [did all 1 could to
achieve] true belief.” H i e “ religion” that he finally found was “ philos­
ophy” in the true sense of the word. A religious person is not the only
seeker of sanctity. Isn’t it, rather, the philosopher in the true sense who
opens the way to it for ordinary people? If “ pure religion” is possible in
our own day, Ueda savs, it will manifest itself in the form of a “ philoso­
phy” that seeks an awareness of “ pure essence.” Setting aside his mode
of expression, Ueda’s views on the disconnect between dogma and sal­
vation shed light on a fundamental problem that virtually all religions
inevitably share even today.
What ought truly to he believed, rather, is “ Tradition,” which
explains the transcendent unity of all religions and is directly revealed
bv that primal unity. What makes this clear is nothing less than “ philos­
ophy” in its true sense, philosophici perennis. There is a group of phi­
losophers who made just such a claim. Called the Perennial school, it
included such key figures as Rene Guenon, Frithjof Schuon and Ananda
Coomaraswamv. Its founder, Guenon, died in 1951, not too far removed
from the period in which Ueda was active. O f course, there was no com­
munication between Ueda and the Perennial school. But I would like to
think it is possible to recognize a manifestation of the Zeitgeist at work
here. Among the adherents of the Perennial school, Schuon was some­
one who, like Mitsuo Ueda, formed a faith-based community hound
together not just bv religion but by true philosophy, i.e. metaphysics.
This school of thought has not yet been adequately studied in Japan, hut
today its ideas have spread throughout the world, permeating not only
the three major religions hut also the realms of psychology and the arts.
Seen in this light, the significance of Ueda’s efforts is worth discussing
ns one current of thought in the intellectual history of Japan. Just what
happened is unclear, but the’Religious Order of the Philosophic Wav/
Mvstie Wav ceased its activities not long after the distribution of these
pamphlets.
It should be obvious even from external circumstances that, at the
time, Tosh ill iko Izutsu was stronglv sympathetic to Mitsuo Ueda’s activ­
ities. It was Ueda’s firm belief that, before “ philosophy” was a branch
of scholarship, it was a spiritual practice directed toward the noumenal
world and inseparable from the problem of salvation. These ideas also
comprise Izutsu’s core values as expressed in Shinpi tetsugciku.
It was mentioned earlier that philosophy had its origins in the mys­
tery religions and that, from “ Orphism-Pythagorism” and Plato down
to the time of Plotinus, philosophy was a form of spirituality rather
than an academic pursuit. Around the year 528, the emperor Justinian
expelled pagans from public office. In the following year, he banned
the teaching of philosophy, and the Academy, which had carried on
the Platonic tradition, was forced to close. Even before 392, the year
Theodosius I promulgated an imperial edict, Christianity had become
the state religion of the Roman Empire. T h e empire was not merely
suppressing thought; it was banning Christianity’s greatest threat. Erom
this it is perhaps possible to surmise the status of “ philosophy” at the
time. Greek philosophy in those days was not a scholarly subject; it
wTas a “ religion” in the highest sense of the word. Flic description that
Porphyry gives in his biography of Plotinus is not the image of a philos­
opher that \\re have today; he is a sacred medium, a shaman filled with
wisdom. What Mitsuo Ueda was attempting to do was to revive Greek
spirituality. It was not to be a revival of Greek philosophy in a nostalgic
or doctrinaire wav. What he wanted wTas to repair the modern world’s
severed relation between salvation and the intellect.
Tosh ill iko Izutsu wrote Shinpi tetsugahu while literally “ coughing
up blood.”"4 The author and the publisher were both presumably aware
that this might be Izutsu’s last work. Nevertheless, “ an announcement
of forthcoming publications” has survived that attempted to deny this
possibility. Shinpi tetsugaku had been planned as a thrcc-volumc set.
Volume one was “The Greek part” ; volume two w as to be "The I Icbrcw
part,” namely the world of Judaism; and volume three was supposed to
be on Christian mysticism. The announcement cpioted below indicates
that Izutsn had not only begun writing but bad already composed a
manuscript of considerable length. The wording is likely to be Mitsuo
Ucda’s.

The author has completed volume one (The Creek part) and is
bravelv devoting himself, despite his ailing body, to writing an enor­
mous manuscript some thousand pages long for volume two ('The
Hebrew part). Volume two promises to he a gem of a work in an
unexplored realm of scholarship, depicting the majestic landscape of
the spiritual history of Hebrew mvstic philosophy. The work begins
with the Old Testament belief in a personal Chid and describes how
this powerful strain of Hebraic mvstic thought cvcntualh came in
conflict with the Creek thought of volume one, struggled against it
and finally became reconciled with it, giving rise in Judaism to the
mvstieism of Philo of Alexandria and in Christianity to the mysticism
of the Apostle Paul, until thev are ultimately and decisively unified
in the mysticism of St Augustine. Most of the books on philosophy in
this country are merely philological studies or impersonal commen­
taries; the author of this work, however, through his superb style of
scholarly exposition, vividly reveals his ow n experiences of lofty , exis­
tential self-awareness and the passionate call of the soul that blazes
within him as a mystical existence, and never stops until he has made
the reader, unawares, enter the ecstatic realm that is the v i a p h i l o -
s o p h i c a . A third volume to follow.

The contents of this blurb w ere probably passionately discussed many

times by Ueda and Izutsu. That docs not mean that the author’s “ ailing
body” w as the only hurdle facing the publication of the second volume.
As was mentioned earlier, shortly after the publication of Shinpi tet-
sugaku, flikari no Shobo went bankrupt, but the very fact that this work
was the intellectual starting point for a philosopher who would define
the twentieth century is proof of the sureness of this publisher’s eye.
Ifven if the activities of the Philosophy Monastery had continued,
however, the honeymoon
y between Izutsu and Ueda seems unlikely- to
have lasted long. Izutsu did not approach religions in a syncretic way;
his thought w'ould deepen and evolve in the direction of finding mean­
ing in their differences ratherthan seeking their primal unity. “ Right
after the publication of this work [Shinpi tetsugaku] an unexpected
event occurred, and the publisher went bankrupt,” Izutsu woidd later
write in the foreword to the revised edition. “ For that reason, fortu­
nately or unfortunately, my plans sadly fell through” ” T h e expression
“ fortunately or unfortunately” indicates that in the not-too-distant
future the differences between the two men w'ould have become too
obvious to ignore. Yet even if that is true, tbe fact remains that, with­
out Ueda, Shinpi tetsugaku would not have seen the light of dav. If
the ailing Izutsu had not met this remarkable person and told him his
dreams, he might never have taken up his pen.
When Shinpi tetsugaku was published, an authority in Greek phi­
losophy said that the work overly “ mvsticized” Greece. I lad the sequels
been written, specialists might similarly have concluded that these
w’orks, too, contained many misinterpretations and leaps of imagina­
tion. T he unpublished manuscripts of the sequels have not yet been
found. But fragments of them can be seen in such works as “ Shin-
pisbugi no erosuteki keitai: Sei Berunaru-ron” (1951; The mysticism of
St Bernard),-6 the discussion of the Oabbalah in Ishiki to honshitsu ,
and “ Chusei Yudaya tetsugakushi ni okeru keiji to risci” (Reason and
revelation in the history of medieval Judaic philosophy) in Choetsu no
kotoba (1991; Transcendental W O RD s),77 the last v'ork to be printed in
bis lifetime.

In Shinpi tetsugaku, Toshibiko Izutsu calls the philosophers’ jour­

ney the via mystica. T he first modern Japanese thinker to use this as a
key term and to distinguish it clearly from “ mvsticism” wras, I believe,
Soetsu Yanagi. In a v'ork from his earliest period entitled “ Sokunvo”
(Implicitness), Yanagi alluded to the evils that “ isms” — ideologies —
have given currency to. For Yanagi, “ implicitness” was another name
for the transccndently Absolute. “ Ideology has been the downfall of
the arts. For religion as well, sects have led it to become rigid and set
in its wavs. Form restricts vitality.” We must “ go bevond all mcdiarics,
break down the obstacles that interpose themselves,” Yanagi writes,
“ and come in direct contact with implicitness.” -6 T h e discussion in
“ Sliiupiclo e no bcmnci” (Apologia for the via mystica) is even more
explieit. There can be no doubt, Yanagi argues, that the expression
“ mysticism” is bv nature a “word that shows signs of the feelings of eon-
tempt with which its scoffers have endowed it.”"4 “When a person lives
in the true nature lie was born with, lie is naturally a mvstic” ;So in other
words, we must be “ emancipated” from all the restrictions that pull one
person away from another and impose a separation from God. I le calls
this path the “ via mystica."
A list has been compiled of Toshihiko Izutsu’s librarv.Sl Prom it we
can confirm the presence there of Shukyo to sono shinri (1920; Reli­
gion and its truth), which contains the t\\ro works just cited and which
Izutsu seems to have read in his youth, as well as Kami ni tsuite (1923;
On God)S: and Shukyo no rikai (1929; Understanding religion).8' 'These
three volumes arc all works that date from the period in which Soctsu
Yanagi was recognized as a religious philosopher and a man of letters
in the early twcnticth-ccnturv literary group known as the Shirakabaha
(White Birch School) and before his discovery of niingei, folk art, for
which he has since become well known. Izutsu, who moved frequently
across national borders, culled his hooks from time to time. There is no
record in the list even for many of the works he reportedly loved reading
bv the Catholic philosopher Soichi Iwashita (1899-1940), Thomistic
scholar Yoshihiko Yoshimitsu (1904-1945), poet Akiko Yosano (1878—
1942) and novelist Nobuhiko Murakami (1909-1983). "The works of
Soctsu Yanagi probably had a special significance for Izutsu. The three
volumes mentioned above were all old hooks published in the 1920s.
In the entire works of Toshihiko Izutsu, the name of Soetsu Yanagi
appears only once. But I believe that the influence of Yanagi s early
works on Izutsu should not he overlooked. The two men were to a
surprising degree closely akin, beginning with the assertion running
throughout Shinpi tetsugaku that philosophy and the pursuit of truth
are inseparable, and extending to their intellectual outlook, subject
matter and terminology. This “ kinship” does not mean a superficial
“similarity ” hut a resonance that occurs between peers. It is not unlike
what 'Thomas Aquinas calls analogic entis, an analogy of being.
As can be seen in Nanuiamidahutsu (1928) and his works on Ippen
and the Pure hand saints known as mydkdnin (1955 and 1950),84 Soetsu
Yanagi was also an outstanding interpreter of Buddhism — so much
so that Daisetz Suzuki tried to entrust the collection of his personal
library and writings, the Matsugaoka Bunko, to Yanagis care. Yanagi’s
understanding of religion was not limited to Buddhism, how ever. As
w'as the ease with Izutsu, Yanagi w'as a thinker w'ho also had a unique
understanding of the thought of Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzii, i.e. Tao­
ism, and Confucianism. Speaking of the Confucian classic, Chung
Yung (The doctrine of the mean), Yanagi writes that it is a book on
religion rather than morality. We can find the same view' in Izutsu s
major English-language w'ork, Sufism and Taoism (1966-1967). Yan­
agi, too, discussed Sufism, or w'hat he called “ the via mystica of Islam,”
up to and including the Persian mystic poets Ruml and JamT. And his
essay, “ Shujunaru shukyoteki hitei” (1920; T h e varieties of religious
n e g a t i o n ) , p e r s o n a l l y conveys Soetsu Yanagis existential interest in
Christianity. He begins w'ith Augustine, touches upon John Eriugena,
Thomas Aquinas, the medieval Germ an mystic Meister Eekhart and
his disciples Suso and hauler, and concludes with John of the Cross,
who carried out the reform of the Carmelite Order.
In 1978, when Shinpi tetsugaku w'as republished, Izutsu w’rote a
new; foreword in w'hich he reminisced about his plans for the sequel
that was meant to follow' volume two, w'hich, as described in the blurb
cited earlier, w'as supposed to have been published as the “ Hebrew
part.” He planned to write that “ Greek mysticism as such had not
ended, but had entered Christianity and undergone its true develop­
ment, reaching its culmination in the Spanish Carmelite Order’s mys­
ticism of love, and in John of the Cross especially.” Looking back from
his present-da}' vantage point, however, he could not help thinking, he
said, that at the time he had been “ possessed by a highly tendentious
view.” 5 T he issue for us here is not whether the notion was “ tenden­
tious.” Our interest, rather, is in his mind at the time w'hen, bv his own
admission, he describes his younger self who had attributed a positive
significance to shamanism as “ possessed.”
Only the name of John of the Cross is cited in the sentence above,
but T h om as Aquinas and Eekhart are mentioned several times in
Shinpi tetsugaku , and there are also manv references to Eriugena.
Soctsu Vanagi w'as also fond of Kriugcna; his discussion of this thinker
dates hack to thirty years before Shinpi tetsugaku was published. Philos­
ophy is not a matter of understanding universal truths by way of “ logical
arguments.” What must he examined, Yanagi says, is “ individual tem­
perament,” i.e. an individuals nature or disposition^- “Temperament”
is an expression that would become key to an understanding of the
voung Yanagi. Usually translated into Japanese as kishitsu (xWt), i.e.
nature or character, for Yanagi it includes the meaning of an ingrained
mental disposition that cannot easily he changed from within. It is not
personality. Rather, it is a term that comes close to spirituality. Keen
though a person would prefer to stop seeking the Transcendent, s/he
is unable to do so. It is, as Aristotle explains, a kind of instinct. For
that reason, while logic docs not define temperament, temperament
requires logic. Moreover, “ just as the whole world is colored by the
color of a flame, temperament casts its own coloring on the world.”SlS
Yanagi believes that it is not logical thought that turns into light and
illuminates the four corners of the earth; it is temperament that is the
flame. These words of Yanagi’s seem to be discussing Shin pi tetsugaku,
which can also he considered a group portrait of temperaments.
The tw'o men are also similar in their circumstances. Soctsu Yanagi
was both an outstanding religious philosopher and a thinker in the area
of folk art, hut he was also a practicing sage in the sense Izutsu dis­
cussed in Shinpi tetsugaku, namely a kind of mystic. “Thinking about
God is the same as God thinking. We see God in G o d ’s own heart,”
Yanagi w'ritcs. “ God hungers for man; man hungers for God. The call
of an overflowing spirit is the call by which God calls God.”St) The mys­
tical experience for him is not a person seeing God; it is nothing less
than God seeing God. What Yanagi consistently emphasizes is the true
subject of the mystical experience.
“ Shiz.cn shinpishugi no shutai” (The subject in nature mysti­
cism), which is the title of the first chapter in the appendix to Shiupi
tetsugaku, was the first theme in Izutsu’s stud}' of Cheek philosophy. The
most profound truth that Izutsu discovered in Soctsu Yanagi, 1 believe,
was his discussion of the subject of the mystical experience. The true
experience of the mysteries is not a unique experience of the human
intellect; rather, Izutsu w rites, “ it is the self-aw'areness of the absolutely
Transcendent suddenly manifesting itself,’’90 and its subject, he asserts,
is not human beings but rather'the absolutely Transcendent itself. This
view will emerge more clearlv when Izntsu deals with Islam.
The following is a passage from Yanagi that Izntsn eites. Although
its sonree is not mentioned, it is found at the beginning of “T he Way of
Tea.” I cite it in the same abbreviated form as Izntsu did.

Thev saw'; before all else, thev saw. They were able to see. Ancient
mysteries flow' out of this spring of seeing. Everyone secs things. But
all people do not see them in the same manner; therefore, thev do
not perceive the same thing. . . . [EJveryone says he sees things, how'
few can see things properly.9'

Without pausing, Izntsu continues, “ Every time I read these charming

w'ords of Soetsu Yanagi, I ean’t help recalling the eyes of the Arabs.” 92
This passage oecurs in an essay entitled “ Mahometto” (Muhammad), a
work not included in Izutsu’s selected works.
 The Encounter with Islam

The Children of Shem: Setsuzo Kotsuji

^ inza t e n k i n , mv family home, was the second building from
the corner in Ginza 4-ehome, where the road turns toward
Sukivabashi,” writes Yasaburo Ikeda at the beginning of “ Tenkin
monogatari” (The Tenkin story) in Ginza junisho (Ginza in twelve
chapters).1 Ikeda w as the son of the owner of Tenkin, an old, estab­
lished tempura restaurant patronized by lzutsu’s father. 1 mentioned
earlier that Izutsu, on his father’s orders, had enrolled in the Faculty
of Economics at Keio University but found his time there unbearable
and transferred to the Faculty. of Letters. ’There mavj well have been a
relationship between the two fathers because, when Izutsu presented
the argument that he was not the only one, “Tenkin,” too, was making
the switch, his father, who had opposed the move, strangely relented
saving, then, in that ease, it couldn’t be helped.
During his undergraduate days, Yasaburo Ikeda published a liter­
ary magazine called Hito (People) ostensibly as publicity for Tenkin.
Advertising for the famih- business was merely a pretext; Ikeda and the
young men in his circle contributed their work to the magazine. In an
essav entitled “ Izutsu Toshihiko-kun to no kosai” (1981; My friendship
with Toshihiko Izutsu), Ikeda introduces “ Plhlosophia haikon,” the
prose poem that Izutsu wrote for Ilito.
 The sea grew dark. As I lay on the sandy shore one clay looking upward
in a gently falling rain, a chalk-white native came crawling slowly
toward me and said these words. I want to dream the butterfly dream,
to become a bird flying serenely to the east, to the west. In olden times
wasn’t there a person in vour country named Loshi, or something
like that, who had a follower called Basho? Isn’t there an element of
truth in “all things arc in flux”? There arc many in vour country, I
hear, who do not understand this. We know it from the time we arc
born. Don’t they say if you’re not careful, you’ll end up like Icarus?
The sea is no use; the skv is no use. Ah, 1 long for the horizon. Ah, I
replied, I, too, can sec the horizon. But I long for the sea. Oh, thalatta,
tluilattal Suddenly I looked, and the chalk-white native had vanished,
and a huge albatross was circling around and around in the skv. And it
laughed the laugh of Mallarmc. (“On Truth or Falsehood” )2

Even his fellow students, who had half-jcalously grumbled that Izutsu
might be exceptionally gifted in languages but had no appreciation for
literature, Ikeda writes, were elearlv astonished when thev read this poem
and were forced to change their minds. Around the same time, Izutsu
handed Ikeda his complete translation of T.S. Eliot’s I'he Waste Land.
Since the manuscript is lost, its literary style is impossible to gauge, but
it is additional proof of Toshihiko Izutsu’s love of poetry. This took place
some twenty vears before Professor Junzaburo Nishiwaki’s translation,
Ikeda writes.
In Izutsu’s poem cited above, it is perhaps not sufficient merely to
recognize the surrealist influence of Junzaburo Nishiwaki. T he Taoist
sages Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzii, who saw the butterflv' dream; Basho,
the latter’s Japanese heir; ancient Greek ontology and theories about
the soul are linked together with Mallarmc to form a mental and spir­
itual genealogy that presages the world of Ishiki to honshitsu (1983;
Consciousness and essence) nearly fifty years later. What is even more
worth noting, however, is that, rather than this poem being a projection
of the future, Izutsu would go on to formulate his thought in wavs that
remained true to the end to the poetic intuition of his youth.
In the colloquies with Rvotaro Shiba and Shotaro Yasuokad Toshi­
hiko Izutsu left statements that, even if spoken in jest, make one aware
of his astonishing genius — that he was able to read most languages
after a few months and that Knglish, Kroneh and German came so
effortlessly he didn’t eonsider them “ foreign languages.’’ But until
an incident in middle school, Izutsu had been a “ poor student” who
hated studying Knglish. One day that student’s eyes \ycrc opened to
language. “ Gogaku kaigen” (1981; My initiation into the mysteries of
language) is the title of an essay that looks back on that time. Not that
the incident was anything special. Unlike Japanese, Knglish makes a
distinction between singular and plural. Kor that young man, this sim­
ple fact alone was enough to bring out his sensitiyity to languages. A
person who uses a different language must surely experience the w'orld
differently, the young man thought. “'The absurd notion kept running
through my mind that 1 would master all the languages in the world,
every single one of them.”4 'This experience, as he would say years later,
w as the “ internal leap” that resembles the experience of enlightenment
know'll as kensho (seeing one’s true nature) in Zen or kenbutsu (seeing
the Buddha) in the Pure Land sect. “As a result of that momentary
experience, I stepped into the scholarly world,” Izutsu writes. “The fas­
cination of that mysterious thing called scholarship took hold of me as
if in premonition of w'hat lay ahead.” ’
What is more, his raw' insight that learning a language means
acquiring a new world agrees in principle with German linguist Leo
Weisgerber’s Menschheitsgetsetz cler Sprache (humanistic law of lan­
guage) and Gesetz cler Sprachgemeimchaft (law' of linguistic commu­
nity), which would subsequently exert a strong influence on him. It
w ould, of course, be much later before Izutsu became aware of this.

When Shiba says he has heard that Izutsu read the classics in their
original languages, Izutsu answers, “Yes, I did.”6 If there was a book he
w'anted to read, he would learn the language in which it was w'ritten.
He didn’t know' the exact number of languages he knew, but guessed
it w'as more than thirty'. According to “ Izutsu Toshihiko-scnsei o itamu”
(1993; Mourning the death of Professor Toshihiko Izutsu), the tribute
that Iwao Takahashi (1928- ) wrote, a joke even circulated among his
university students that Izutsu knew as many as 200 languages.' I le
learned Greek and became acquainted with Plato and Aristotle; then
he mastered Russian and encountered Dostoevsky. The next language
lie studied was I Iebrew. It should not pass unnoticed that, after eoming
in eontaet with the Oriental mentalities of Greece and Russia, he went
on to learn Hebrew7 and beeame deeply involved with Jewish spiritu­
ality7through the Old Testament. Indeed, I believe that studying these
languages prepared the wray for his eneounter with Islam.
Aeeording to “ Izutsu Toshihiko no koto” (1991; About Toshihiko
Izutsu), an essay Masao Sekine w7rote for an insert that aeeompanied
Izutsu’s selected works,8 he became acquainted with Izutsu in 1937 at
the Institute of Biblieal Research (the name was later ehanged to the
Institute of Hebrew7 Culture) run by Protestant pastor Setsuzo Kotsuji
(1899-1973). Although ealled an '‘Institute,” it was not an organization
to w hich large numbers of researchers belonged but rather Kotsuji’s
private study group. It w7as Kotsuji w'ho introduced Izutsu to Sekine. At
the Institute of Biblieal Research, the “ Bible” in the title w as not the
New7Testament but the Old Testament— not that Judaism reeognizes
the expression Old Testament, w'hieh is merely a term applied from the
Christian perspective. For the Jewish people, the saered text that begins
w'ith the five Mosaie books ineluding Genesis and Exodus has been the
one and only Bible from aneient times and remains so to the present
day; there is nothing “ old” about it. In the present chapter, following
Kotsuji’s example, the term “ B ible” refers to the so-ealled Old Testa­
ment, the original text written in Hebrew.
“ To mv knowledge,” Kotsuji w7rites in his autobiography, lie was
“ the first Japanese to eonvert to Judaism.”9 Had he been able to do so,
he w7ould have preferred to beeome a Jew from the outset, but in Japan,
in those days, that was not possible. He w7as baptized a Christian only
out of a desire to eome a little bit eloser to the God of the Jew's. Christi­
anity for him was nothing more than a new7religion that acknowledged
the significance of the Old Testament. Kotsuji was born on 3 February
1899, on setsubun, the first day of spring in the old Japanese calendar,
and so he was given the name Setsuzo, setsu from setsubun and zo for
“ three.” T he family he was born into had been chief priests at the Shi-
mogamo Shrine in Kyoto. I use the past perfeet tense beeause earlv
in the Nleiji period (1868-1912), during Kotsuji’s grandfather’s time,
the position eeased to be hereditary. T h e Shimogamo Shrine is said
to trace its history back to before the common era. One of the greatest
shrines in Japan and a designated World I leritage Site, it is dedicated
to the tntclar\r deity of Kyoto. The Shinto tradition, far from being a
hindrance to Kotsnji’s conversion to Judaism, prepared the wav for it.
With Shinto as his starting point, he writes at the beginning of his auto­
biography, he went in search of “ a religious resting place,” a spiritual
home in the true sense, and his conclusion was that this was Judaism.
Setsuzo Kotsuji’s book on Hebrew' grammar, Wiburugo genten
nyumon (Introduction to the original text in the Hebrew’ language),
w’as published in December 1936,10 and in all probability it was through
this book that lzutsu learned about the Institute. In tbc copy that I
have at hand is a fiver inviting students to enroll. T he “ original text
in the Hebrew language” is, in other words, the Hebrew Bible. And,
of course, lzutsu knocked on the Institute’s door for that very reason:
to learn Hebrew, tbe language of the Bible. When lie began studying
Hebrew', lzutsu made astonishing progress. In a colloquy w'itb Shusaku
Endo, lzutsu left the following statement about those days.

That man [Setsuzo Kotsuji] was also a truly fervent [Protestant]

believer; when he read a text of the Old Testament out loud in
I Iebrew', his voice would tremble with emotion, and tears would glis­
ten in his eyes. Tins, too, was a tremendous experience for me."
Tbe reason Kotsuji cried wTiile reading tbe Bible w'as because be saw'
tbe persecution of tbe Jewish people recorded there as a contempo­
rary event. Time passes, but that persecution was bv no means over;
this is the harsh reality' of religious time that Kotsuji recounts in his
autobiography.
“Are the Jews an ethnic group or a religious group?” Kotsuji w'rites
at the beginning of Yudciya minzoku no sugata (1943; The true charac­
ter of the Jewish nation).12 Although a historical issue, for Kotsuji, this
topic was, if anything, an existential question, one on which he had
staked his life —could lie or could he not become a Jew? If “ Jew'” was
another name for a member of an ethnic group, there w'as no place for
him. But if a Jew w'as a member of a faith-based religious group, then
tbe w’ay was open for him as w'cll. Tbe conclusion Kotsuji reached is
apparent from his formal conversion to Judaism in 1959.
 Someone who loved the Old Testament and could not hold back
tears w hile reading it was unlikely to fit easily within the fold of the
Christian church in Japan. At Aovama Gakuin University, the Tokyo
"Fheological Seminary, wherever he went, Kotsuji w'as treated almost
like a heretic. Even after founding the Institute of Biblical Research,
obstacles continued. Perhaps since he could not expect anyone to
understand him in Japan, he wrote his autobiographv. From Tokyo to
Jerusalem, in English under the name he had taken at the time of his
conversion, Abraham Kotsuji. This spiritual journcv seems to have had
lasting repercussions since his name is hard to find in histories of Jap­
anese Protestantism; onlv in works like Nihon to Yndava: sono vuko no
rekishi (2007; Japan and Judea: A history of their friendship) by Ben-
Ami Sbillony and Kazumitsu Kawai arc there several chapters devoted
to him and his relation to Judaism.'3
By 1940, the Nazi persecution of the Jews had already begun. The
w'ave of attacks reached from Poland into nearby Lithuania; for the Jew's
there, remaining in Europe meant imminent arrest. One day a group of
Jews gathered outside the Japanese consulate in Lithuania seeking visas.
The only route left for them was to proceed through the Soviet Union
and Japan to some place beyond the reach of Nazi hegemonv. Visas are
normallv issued onlv to those who have alreadv been accepted bv the
country of their intended destination. It was, of course, unlikely that most
of these Jew's had anv such guarantee. The man who issued more than
2000 visas to these Jewish refugees and helped 6000 of them escape was
Chiune Sugihara (1900-1986). Not that the Japanese government readily
supported his decision; the Foreign Ministrv was opposed. Today many
people are aware of what Sugihara did, but it would be manv decades
after the war before his existence became widely known in Japan.
The Jews who made their wtiv to Japan visa in hand did not set off for
their eventual destinations without encountering obstacles there as well.
Because they had arrived as a result of a loophole in the law', Japan did
not readily allow them into the country. Setsuzo Kotsuji repeatedlv asked
the immigration office to admit the Jews, even conferring on the matter
with the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Yosuke Matsuoka (1880-1946), and
lie finally succeeded in getting them allowed into the countrv. That
w’as not all; lie personally borrowed a huge sum of money to support
them during their stay there. Kotsuji had onec worked under Matsuoka
in Manchuria, from October 1939 to the following July, lie sensed as a
consultant on Jewish matters for the South Manchuria Railway. It was
Matsuoka who had asked him to come to Manchuria. At first, Kotsuji
had stubbornly refused. But as the persecution of the Jew s drew’ closer
to the Far Fast, Ydsukc Matsuoka’s clear opposition to anti-Semitism
conyinced Kotsuji to accept. Sometime later, after he had resigned his
position in Manchuria and returned to Japan, and a mere two weeks
after lie had set up house in Kamakura, Kotsuji writes, he learned that
Jews arriying in Japan were being refused admission. As a glance at his
life show’s, ordeals seem to await him, almost as if he were being tested.
Around the time the Jews had all left for their various destinations, Japan
declared war. Onec again he had to fight against anti-Semitic forces. But
the Jewish people did not forget what Kotsuji had done. In Israel, the
name of Sctsuzo Kotsuji is honored to this ycry daw
For Kotsuji, teaching the Hebrew’ language wras not a matter of
giving lessons on grammar or the writing system; it was an initiation
into reading the Bible. To do so is to experience first-hand a primordial
dynamic between a people and a religion that is still alive today.

There is a work in w’hich Izutsu speaks of his own experience w ith

the Bible — “ Shinpishugi no crosuteki keitai: sei Bcrunaru-ron” (1951;
The mysticism of St Bernard). As can he seen from the title, the essay
is a study of the tw’clfth-eentury Father of the Christian Church, hut, in
fact, it deals with God in the Hellenic and Hebraic traditions and, in
particular, with Hebrew’ mystic philosophy, w'hieh is a source of Chris­
tianity. The Old Testament as translated into the Latin of the Catholic
Church, Izutsu w'ritcs, is no longer “ intelligible in a neutered and sterile
translation from which the noxious air has been removed.” But when you
read the Bible in the original 1 Icbrcw’, from the ycry first page “ an inde­
scribably powerful human scent suddenly comes w’afting directly out at
you, leaving you unexpectedly trembling and transfixed.” 14 As he reads
the Hebrew Bible, he witnesses in vivid detail the spectacle of the “ living
C o d ” intervening in the human w'orld. This is the Cod wiio smashes the
ethical norms set bv modern man and, with his stern demeanor, is the
moving force behind a pcoplc'and their history.
What Izutsn learned from Kotsuji wtis something more than know l­
edge of a language; it wtis how to “ read” Scripture. It was nothing less
than a synchronic dialogue with history, a response to the call from the
Transcendent. Izutsu’s exceptional genius, moreover, lay not in his lin­
guistic ability to read the Bible in the original Hebrew', but rather in his
capacity to perceive its staggeringly great mystical aura. It is worth recall­
ing that the sequel to Shinpi tetsugaku (Philosophy of mysticism) wtis
supposed to have been “T h e Hebrew' part,” in which Izutsu intended
to discuss the judges and prophets w ho are the spiritual heroes of Juda­
ism all the wav dowm to the Apostle Paul. “ I attempted to show in my
previous w'ork [Shinpi tetsugaku, part one, “'The Greek part,” the 1949
edition] that behind the God of Greek philosophy w'hich at first glance
seems like some abstract, inanimate object, in fact, lay concealed a God
of unbroken belief.” 15 As can be inferred from this statement, “ Shin-
pishugi no erosuteki keitai” was consciously w'rittcn as a continuation of
Shinpi tetsugaku. What it inherited from the earlier book wtis the “ God
of unbroken belief,” namely the issue of a personal god.

The “God” that constitutes the Supreme Being of Greek metaphysics

was not, as people often mistakenly believe, the abstract, inanimate
object that, as a rational requirement of philosophical thought, wtis

assumed to be at the apex of its ontological system. Nor wtis it simply

a product of the imagination, the blind, mechanical forces of nature
conjured up in humanized form. This was a Gocl of life that appealed
to the hidden depths of the human soul and entered into an unbro­
ken personal relation with it.16

Human beings can only represent God in human terms. This is a human
limitation. But “ God is not human,'' Izutsu savs. “ God is personal." It
may be easier to understand “ person” bv substituting for it the con­
cept of nous (Intellect) in Shinpi tetsugaku —God is not human; God is
“ noumenal.” And so, “Although ‘hum an’ and ‘personal’ seem close to
one another, the difference between them is actually so vast as to per­
mit absolutely no comparison,” he writes in “ Shinpishugi no erosuteki
keitai.” “dims, if we were to apply human form, which has meaning only
as an outward sign, not symbolically but directly, as it were, to God, what
would this be if not a dreadful blasphemy against God?” 1"
When God from the transcendental world appears in the phenom­
enal world in which human beings live, God appears in the guise of
the human soul. This mode of being is what is known as a “ person” ;
it does not indicate a div ine limitation but only a conforming on the
part of God to the limitations of human beings. The origin of “ person”
is the word persona. As its meaning “ mask” suggests, the world we per­
ceive is merely the mask-like world of the absolute Intellect. And yet it
might well be said that, without the interposition of persona, human
beings would be unable to liv e, or be capable of haying real existence,
for the transcendental world beyond the mask surpasses the power of
human understanding.
Persona is also indwelling in peoples, periods and cultures. That is
the reason “ the distinction between the Hellenic God and the 1 lebraic
G o d ” occurs. Human beings are no exception to this rule. We become
human by sharing a persona with and from God. But the theory of per­
sona for Izutsu was also a subject that breaks through and overcomes
the superficial differences between the Greeks and the Hebrews. These
differences, be believed, offer countcrcvidcnce for the One God and
the singular nature of divinity.

Whv, one wonders, is the creative agent of eternal life throughout

the entire universe, the Lord God of all things in heaven and earth,
different among the Greeks and the 1lebrews? Here, too, disputatious
theologians have brought the petty distinctions of their human intelli­
gence into the nature of divinity itself—as if the itemization of differ­
ences that have great value for their scholarship would naturally have
enormous significance for God as well. The distinction between the
Hellenic God and the Hebraic God, however, is not a divine distinc­
tion but, in fact, a man-made one. The differences are not in God;
tlicv are, instead, fundamental differences in the attitudes of human
beings toward God.1*
The differences between the Hellenic God and the Hebraic God can­
not exist in the Ultimate One. These arc not differences in God, Izutsu
says; arc they not, rather, differences among theologians who argue
about such matters? Yet even though we intuitively recognize this fact,
there are problems that mush he overcome before it can he rationally
fleshed out into a philosophy and help everyone everywhere understand
this insight. One of these problems is language. As the Bible tells us, the
birth of language has a direct bearing on cultural differences.
Kotsuji s Knglish-language work The Origin and Evolution of the
Semitic Alphabets (Tokyo: Kyobunkwan) was published in 1937, around
the time that Izutsu was attending the Institute. In it, Kotsuji writes
that the greatest contributions made to the world bv the Jews and other
Semitic-speaking peoples were the Bible, the alphabet and the Koran.
Language may have been the beginning of the divisions among peo­
ples, but it would also be a means of restoring them to unit}’.
In all cultures or ethnicities, language and spirituality'—an attitude
of reverence toward the transcendental world — exist inseparablv from
one another. Indeed, language is regarded as the origin of that primal
awe which human beings feel when thev encounter the Transcendent.
To borrow’ a formulation from Shinpi tetsugaku, language is nothing
other than the expression of the enlightened embodiment of a “ spiritual
reality.” 19 Toshihiko Izutsu s ur-experienee might well be said to be his
recognition of this inextricabilitv of language and spirituality'. The lan­
guage that played a decisive role in the making of Izutsu’s philosophy
was not language as ergon, a code representing a finished product; it cuts
deeplv across human affairs, often manifesting itself in human form.
To follow' his journev to this recognition is to come in contact with the
source of what Izutsu w’ould later call “ W O R D .”20 W O R D in this sense
transcends linguistic codes and signifies the origin of all things.
When, toward the end of his life, Izutsu was asked wTat led him
to the world of Islam, he said he didn’t really know, but one event that
had probably prepared the way for it wras his encounter with Setsuzo
Kotsuji. In “Yudava minzoku no kobo” (1942; T h e rise and bill of the
Jewish people), Kotsuji states that there are manv theories about the
origin of the Semites, but he believes they can be traced back to Ara­
bia.21 Izutsu mav have heard him say something similar during his
lectures. At anv rate, one dav Izutsu said to Masao Sekine, let’s start
studying Arabic. Not modern Arabic. T h e two of them began a studv
group in classical Arabic.
 Kotsuji speculates in Yuclciyci minzoku no sugata that Abraham
and Moses, Isaac and Jacob w ere not simply the names of individuals
but generic cponvms for elans or tribes. Independently of Abraham or
Moses as historical entities, there were countless, nameless individuals
who inherited their spirit. Kotsuji recognized that Jew ish history was
formed bv, and still lives on today in, people who left no names behind
in that history. When developing his own account of Judaism, he com­
plained about the flagrant and glaring anachronisms in existing studies
of the Jew-isb people, who arose in southwest Asia and even today adhere
to an Asiatic religion, and he deeply lamented the fact that the Japanese
were still limited to uncritical direct translations of Western works. The
Jews, too, are an Asian people; as a fellow- Asian, he said, I would like
to tell their true history. Kotsuji’s “Asian” spirit would be passed on to
Izutsu. He would call it “ Oriental.” Kotsuji’s Asia, like Izutsu’s Orient,
is not a word that designates a geographical area only. It is nothing less
than the place w'hcrc “ eternal” creation takes place, beginning with the
book of Genesis and continuing on down to tbe present day.
Izutsu’s interest in Hebrew- never waned; it lasted to the end of
his life. Indeed, along with Buddhism, it was the subject that most
intensely fascinated him in his later years. Izutsu’s work on the his­
tory of medieval Judaic philosophy is an obvious ease in point,22 and
his studies of Derrida evolved out of Derrida’s Jcw'ishncss.2' The essav
on “ the divine Hebrew language” in Ishiki to honshitsu is vet another
example. ‘T h e W O R D of God, starting from the ultimate root sound
‘aleph,’ evolving and ultimately realizing itself in its true and perfect
form, is, as 1 have just explained, the Hebrew- language made up of
twentv-two letters,” Izutsu writes. “ It is the Hebrew language, vet it is
strictly the divine Hebrew language and fundamentally different from
the human Hebrew- language.”24 The basic thesis in Ishiki to honshitsu
is a “ depth-consciousness philosophv of language,” the mvstical phi­
losophy of W O R D . 2, Gentral to the discussion there is the Hebrew
language, including the letter mvsticism of the Oabbalah, a form of
esoteric Judaism. It seems likely, does it not, that Izutsu w-as recall­
ing Kotsuji as he w-as w-riting this? Perhaps w-c might say that Izutsu’s
meeting w ith Kotsuji can truly be described as his encounter with the
“ divine Hebrew language.”
 The Two Tatars
**

Tosh ill iko Izutsu had two teaehers of Arabie, both Tatars whose native
language was Turkish. One was Abdur-Rasheed Ibrahim (1857-1944),
the other was Musa Jarullah (1875-1949). In many reference works
todav the two are ealled Musa Bigiev and Abdiirresld Ibrahim. In what
follows I w ill refer to them as Ibrahim and Musa. Toward the very end
of his life, in the eolloquv with Ryotaro Shiba, “ Nijisseikiniatsu no
vami to hikari” (1993; Darkness and light at the end of the twentieth
century), Toshihiko Izutsu spoke about the two men. Had this colloquy
never taken plaee, we might not have been aw'are today of Itzusu’s rela­
tion to these two Tatars. Yet even earlier than these comments, there
wras an essay bv Izutsu entitled “Angva hvohaku no shi: M usa” (1983;
Musa: T h e wandering pilgrim teacher), in wiiieh he wrrote his recol­
lections of Musa, though hardly anyone has noticed it.26 In addition, a
Japanese translation of Ibrahim’s autobiography has been published.2"
There are also references to the tw'o Tatars in the novella bv Toshi-
hiko Izutsu’s wife, Toyoko, “ Bafurunnuru monogatari” (1959; The tale
of Bahr-un-Noor),” 2S and in Surutan Gariefu no yume (1986; Sultan
G alie v ’s dream) b\' Masayuki Yamauehi;29 and the Orientalist Shinji
Maejima mentions Ibrahim in his autobiographical essay, Arabicigaku
e no michi (1982; T he road to Arabic studies).’0 But none of these w'orks
attracted mueh attention to the relationship among these three men.
On the other hand, however, the faet that there was a time w'hen
no one knew' much about Ibrahim indicates the extent to w'liich Islamie
studies in modern Japan, and Islam as a religion, have been ov erlooked.
And yet no discussion of the vicissitudes of Islam in Japan w'ould he
conceivable w'ithout mentioning this man. Todav research bv Hisao
Komatsu, Tsutomu Sakamoto, Akira Matsunaga and others is w'ell
advanced, and attention is foeusing not only on the tw'o Tatars’ relation­
ship with Toshihiko Izutsu but on their role as exemplars of a special
late-nineteenth-eenturv spirit that animated Islamie eulture. If it is pos­
sible to discuss Islam in Japan not as beginning w ith Toshihiko Izutsu
hut, rather, that his appearanee marked the end an era, it is likelv to
open a new chapter in modern Japan’s intellectual and spiritual history.
 Judging from what l/.utsu savs, he met Ihrahim sometime in or
after 1937 when the war with China had alrcad\' begun and just around
the time he had become a teaching assistant at Keio University. After
repeated requests for an interview, the aged Ibrahim finally agreed to
meet Izutsu, but at first stubbornly refused to teach him Arabic. With a
copy of the Knglish translation of the biography of Muhammad in his
hand, he said to the voung man in Arabic, luiza-l-kilab jaa min Amerika.
Afcihimtci? ( This hook has just arrived from America. Do you understand,
I wonder?) One wonders what the expression on Izutsu’s face might have
been at that moment. It was a “ tremendous thrill,” he would say much
later, to hear the classical Arabic he so wanted to learn actually spoken.'1
That excitement may have conveyed itself to the old man because he
agreed to Izutsu’s request, on one condition: There was no point in study­
ing only Arabic; he should study Islam along w ith it. Ibrahim’s plan was
for him to come once a week, but Izutsu came almost every daw Two
years later, Itzusu had become so immersed in the world of Islam that
Ibrahim said to him, ‘Aon arc a natural-born Muslim. Since you w'crc a
Muslim from the time of vour birth, you arc mv son.” '2
Ibrahim was not a teacher of Arabic. Nor w as the aim of his stay in
Japan to disseminate knowledge of Islamic culture. He had first come
to Japan in 1909. He stayed a few months at that time, and returned
in 1933. Ibrahim is not an easy person to sum up. An cvcw'itncss to
history, a denouncer of injustice to the heavens, Ibrahim was first and
foremost a journalist who typified modern Islam, but he was also a reli­
gious leader w'ho served as an imam —a position held by someone w ho
has memorized the bob' books.
Ibrahim himself claimed to be more than a hundred years old. 1
w'ouldn’t go that far, Izutsu said in the colloquy w’ith Shiba, but he
w'as over ninety-five, I think. In fact, wrc now' know' he was eighty. That
docs not mean Ibrahim was lying. He w'as probably just teasing the
young man. The story of him handing over an Knglish translation of
the Prophet’s biography to Izutsu w'hcn the}' first met — that, too, was
no accident; he max’ w'cll have purposely ordered it and agreed to the
meeting once the preparations w'crc complete. There was no need
for Ibrahim to read an Knglish translation. He was an imam; he had

si
committed to memory not only the Koran, but all the important liturgi­
cal texts, and eould recite them by heart.
Ibrahim had at one time made Russia the base of his operations.
Russia, whieh was then in the proeess of annexing Islamic countries on
its wav to becoming a Great Power, had a history of persecuting Islam.
The first half of Ibrahim’s life \yas devoted to saving his brethren from
danger in his eapaeity as a speaker and activist. Russia was not alone,
however; the countries of Europe were also oppressing the Muslims in
their eolonies. T h e aim of Ibrahim’s visits to Japan w as to try to build
an allianee with Japanese militarists, the right-wing activist Mitsuru
Toyama (1855-1944) and others to help Muslims break free of imperi­
alist domination and promote the founding of an Islamie empire. Ibra­
him presumably regarded Japan’s vietorv in the Russo-Japanese War
as a miraculous achievement: the defeat of the oppressor. He died in
Japan in 1944 and is buried in the foreigners’ plot in Faina Cemetery.
In Tovoko Izutsu’s novella, Ibrahim is warmlv depieted as an engag­
ing and affable man who spoke fluent Japanese and had a penehant for
proverbs. One daw Ibrahim said that a remarkable scholar had arriv ed
and took Izutsu with him to the mosque. Loeated in Yovogi Uehara in
Tokyo, the mosque combined a place of worship known as the Tokvo
Jam ee Mosque with the M uham m adan School. “ As we neared the
mosque, I heard a voiee reciting the Koran out loud with a special into­
nation full of Oriental emotion.” “That is M usa’s recitation,” Ibrahim
said.’3 It was this person —whom Izutsu called “ Professor M usa” —who
was truly a genius. Ibrahim, who knew' all the sacred scriptures by heart,
had a memory that is astonishing enough, but M u s a ’s memory was
another order of magnitude altogether. Not onlv had he memorized
the bob' books as well as works peripheral to them, “ he had in his head
almost all the important texts, not just those on theology, philosophy,
law, poetry, prosody and grammar.”34 And it was not only works in elas-
sieal Arabie that he knew by heart; he had memorized several volumes
of commentaries and had his own opinions as well.
When Izutsu first visited Musa and, as instructed, went not to the
front entrance but around to the garden and ealled his name, Musa
appeared from out of the eloset, saving, Ahlcin \\'ci sahlan , the Arabie
greeting for welcoming guests. This distinguished seholar did not have
the wherewithal to rent a single room, much less an entire house, and
was forced to rent the upper half of a wall-cupboard. One dav, when
Izutsu was ill, Musa visited him bringing some Arab sweets. I Ic looked
at all the hooks in Izutsu’s studv and asked, what do you do with vour
books when y o u move? Izutsu said that he packed them in a basket
and took them with him — just like a snail, then, Musa laughed. A per­
son wasn’t a true scholar, Musa said, unless he could do scholarship
anvwhere empty-handed. In an interview toward the end of his life
Izutsu recalled those davs and said it had been his first experience with
the teaching methods of an Islamic ulcuncl (scholar). One day Izutsu
brought some texts in Arabic to the place where Musa was staving. A
few days later Musa had memorized them all.
Musa like Ibrahim was a Tatar born in Russia. In ibiirahiinu , Nihon
e no tabi (2008; Ibrahim’s journey to Japan), llisao Komatsu alludes
to the meeting between the two m e n .'5’ At the time of the founding
of (Jlfet, the journal for which Ibrahim served as editor-in-chief, there
was a growing movement toward Muslim solidarity within Russia. In
1906, the formation of a Russian Muslim League was announced in
Saint Petersburg. The author of the manifesto was Musa. lie was both
a scholar and a revolutionary as well as a religious leader who served as
the imam at the Great Mosque in Saint Petersburg. Later, after living
in Mecca for three years, he opened a publishing house in Russia, but
after the Revolution he experienced persecution from the Russian gov­
ernment and was forced to go abroad. Me came to Japan via Turkistan
and China and stayed there for two years; most of his time in Japan was
spent with Izutsu. As Izutsu writes in “Angva no hyohaku no shi,” Musa
subsequently wandered through the Islamic world, traveling to Iran,
Lgvpt, India, Iraq and elsewhere before dying in Cairo in 1949, aged 74.
The model for the character of Tats 110 Aoki in Tovoko Izutsu’s novella
was Toshihiko Izutsu. Some time after Musa left Japan, a functionary
at the Foreign Ministry conveys M usa’s words to Aoki. “ Do vou know
latsuo Aoki, mv one and only student in Japan?” When Aoki hears this
message from Musa, his eves fill with tears as he recalls “ the davs of his
vouth that had sailed so swiftly by,” and once again he hears Musa say­
ing to him in Arabic, “To become like a tree rotting in the place it was
planted —what a boring life, Tatsuo.” ^’
 The world is filled with the glory of the Absolute. Seeing with one’s
own eyes the diversity of GodVcreation, revering it, maintaining it and
making it known — this worldview is the unwritten law that underlies
Islam. ’That was the reason Ibrahim and Musa ended their lives on
their travels. If eternity exists, human beings arc always able to come
in direct contact with its primal life force. Ibrahim and Musa are the
embodiment this idea.
And that is howToshihiko Izutsu encountered Islam.

Shumei Okawa and the Origins of Japanese Islam

At the dawai of Islamic studies in Japan, two organizations w'crc doing
research on Islam and Islamic culture, the East Asian E c o n o m ic
Research Bureau, formerly affiliated with the South Manchuria Rail­
way Company, and the Institute of the Islamic Area. When the first
of these wras founded, the person wiio served as its director was Shu ­
mei Okawa. Since, for all extents and purposes, the bureau func­
tioned as Shumei Okawa s private think tank, it was even called the
Okaw'a school. T h e state supported Okaw'a, albeit indirectly, and the
bureau published the journal Shin Ajia (New Asia). T h e Institute of
the Islamic Area headed by Koji Okubo also published a monthly
magazine, Kaikyoken (Islamic Area). According to Yoshimi Takeuchi
(1910-1977), who wras at the Institute of the Islamic Area in those days,
even though the two organizations w'ere not openly antagonistic to
one another, that did not necessarily mean they held the same views.
In 1940, Izutsu contributed articles to both Kciikyoken and Shin Ajia.
According to Takchiro Otsuka’s Okcnvci Shumei (1995), Izutsu taught
Arabic at the Okawa school.5"
Shumei Okaw’a spared no expense to amass a collection of important
Islamic documents. Under the pretext of having him “ organize” Arahicci
and Islamica, the twro mammoth series he had purchased from the Neth­
erlands, he allowed Izutsu to use them freely.5S The book Izutsu brought
to Musa was one of these works. Without these two compendia, Izutsu’s
maiden work, Arabia shisoshi (History of Arabic thought), might never
have been w'ritten. That work, w’hich came out in 1941 on the cvc of
World War II wras, how'ever, published as a volume in Koa Zcnsho (Asian
Development series) edited by Koji O kub oT I/.utsii bad elosc relations
with both organizations and was warmlv regarded by both of them.

Although not informed of the plot, Shfnnei Okawa bad been

implicated in the attempted eonp d’etat in 1932, known as the Mav
15th incident, having supplied guns and money to the conspirators. I Ic
was imprisoned but released on parole in October 1937, the year that
Toshihiko lzutsu and Ibrahim met. Okawa s Kciikyd gciiron (Introduc­
tion to Islam) wras published in 1942.40 But five years earlier, just before
he was released from prison, lie notes in his diary that he had already
completed half of it. It would be fair to sav that by that time Shumci
Okawa s view’s on Islam were already mature.
Recently the movement to reevaluate Shumci Okaw’a, not only
in relation to World War 11 or for his eccentric behavior at the Tokyo
War Crimes Tribunal, but also as a thinker, has suddenly been gaining
ground even in Japan. I add the qualifier “ even in Japan,” because the
assessment of Okaw'a in India has ahvavs been quite different. At the
end of Okaw'a s life, w'hcn he w'as on his sickbed and unable to attend.
Prime Minister Nehru, wrho was on a state visit to Japan after the war,
invited him to a banquet to honor bis support for Indian indepen­
dence. Gandhi had once declared that, given a choice bctw'ccn cow­
ardice and violence, he w'ould choose violence, but Okaw'a correctly
perceived and profoundly appreciated the revolutionary spirit behind
Gandhi’s nonviolence. Shumci Okawa wras a revolutionary in the sense
that Gandhi wras. Both of them shared the belief that political revolu­
tion and religious revolution occur simultaneously.
Yoshimi Takeuchi was interested in Okawa from an early period;
he planned but never completed a study of him. A 1969 lecture of his
entitled “ Okaw'a Shumci no Ajia kenkyu” (Shumci Okaw'a s Asian
research) still exists, however, and it contains the gist of the proposed
w ork. In it, lie says, “ Okaw'a did not have the personality of a religious
man, but as a scholar of religion, 1 believe, he w'as first-rate.”41 Takcu-
chi’s words sum up the essence of this man w'liose starting point bad
been research on Nagarjuna (ca 150-250), the greatest figure in early
Mahayana Buddhism and the author of the Miilamcidhvcnmikcikcirika
(Fundamental verses on the Middle Way).
 At the time I [i.e. Okawa] left the university philosophy department,
having eompleted a studv of Nagarjuna as my graduation thesis, in the
back of my mind I expected to dedicate my life to the reading and prac­
tice of Indian philosophy. It was the Upanishads, the understanding of
which has been refined by Buddhist monks and which explain the way
to experience these insights through yoga, that was the inexhaustible
holy souree which would quench the thirst of my soul.42

If it is the mission of scholars of religion not to immerse themselves in

the study of dogma but to rescue religion from dogma, then Okawa was
indeed a scholar of religion. It was not as a student of Buddhism that
he w ould display these gifts, how'ever, but rather as a student of Islam.
What makes Kaikyo gairon seem dated is only its choice of words;
the writing stvle is vigorous and its point of view' seems fresh even now'.
Although more than sixty vears have passed since its publication, it
contains material that w'ould live up to its title today. Okawa argued
repeatedly that M u h a m m a d ’s earnest desire w'as not jihad but moral
instruction, that M uham m ad w'as a pacifist in the true sense of the
w'ord. “ Unfortunately, as a result of Christianity’s hostility to all things
non-Christian, Islam is ahvavs painted black,” he w'rites.4' It would be
wrong to see this statement as stereotvpical animosity toward Chris­
tianity on Slnimei Okawa s part. He is just frankly pointing out that
the view' of Islam as intolerant, which we encounter even todav on an
almost dailv basis, is nothing more than sheer prejudice.
Toshihiko Izutsu and Shumei Okaw'a are in agreement in recog­
nizing that Islam is not a religion of pureblood Arabs w'hieh emerged
w'ith the revelations to M uham m ad but that it is nothing less than a
richly diverse spiritual impulse forged in a melting pot of religions. As
one example of the Islamic spirit of tolerance, Shumei Okaw'a cites the
fact that the Kastern Christian John of Damascus long held the office
of councilor under the Umavyad caliphate (661-750) and his father,
Sergius, served as finance minister. In Arabia shisoshi, Izutsu empha­
sizes the historical process by which this new' world religion organi­
cally embraced different traditions, changing as it did so. Through
its Semitic bloodlines, Islam was heir to Judaism and supplemented
Christianity, while for its ideas it revived ancient Greek thought. Nor
was this incompatible with accepting Muhammad's revelations. Izutsu
describes how this openness extended even to connections with ancient
Indian thought and Zoroastrianism.
During the time of the Abbasids (750-1258), w ho follow ed the Uma-
vyad caliphate, religions policy in the Islamic world became even more
tolerant. This was an era that recognized freedom of thought and saw7
the birth of Islamic philosophy. Al-Karabf embodies the spirit of the age.
Called the “second teacher” of Islamic philosophy (the first being Aris­
totle), Farabi, it would be fair to say, lay the foundations tor it. If what he
believed to be true contradicted Aristotle, lie remained steadfast in his
yiews; his attitude wras unchanged even if these views contradicted the
Koran. For Muslims the Koran is not a book; it is nothing less than the
presence in the phenomenal world ot the living God. Toshihiko Izutsu
devotes a chapter in Arabia shiwshi to this philosopher, who tolerated
no compromise whatsoever in his love of truth. Given the kind of person
Farabi was, it may come as no surprise that some of his followers were
not Muslims. In addition to bis many Muslim students wjas Yahya Ibn
‘Adi, a Jacobite Christian. According to Yoshihisa Yamamotos study of
Ibn ‘Adi’s The Cultivation of CharacterM Yahya, too, wras not someone
who made an issue of religious differences when faced with the big
question, the search for truth. Since the two religions each developed
its own theology, rapprochement is hard to achieve. When the two
sides come together cloaked in their respective theologies, it is difficult
to open a dialogue or make any breakthroughs. Philosophical discus­
sions begin, however, once the cloak of theology has been east aside.
Yahya was subsequently accepted as a scholar bv the Islamic w'orld even
though he was a Christian.
If there had been no Christians of the Syrian Jacobite or Ncstorian
sects, Islamic philosophy might have been much poorer than it is today.
Yahya, Izutsu w'rites, “ is truly worth noting for his translations of Aristo­
tle and especially for his contributions to the study of logic.”4S Islamic
sages read Aristotle, whom they regarded as the supreme human intel­
lect, wrote commentaries on him and considered him their own flesh
and blood. As a Muslim, Farabi was a pioneer in this regard, and yet
the first to translate the w'orks of Aristotle into Arabic were not Muslim
philosophers but Syrian Christians in the employ of Islamic caliphs.
 It must not be overlooked that Islamic philosophy was syncretic
from the start and in the highest sense aspired to absorbing and inte­
grating divergent views. T h e re is a tendency to think of Islam as a
mutant strand of spiritualitv that appeared suddenly out of nowhere,
detached from culture or history, hut in reality it might well he called
the expression of a religious impulse that synthesized the heritage of
different eras and different cultures as it grew.
It was true, of course, in the ease of Toshihiko Izutsu, hut for Shfnuei
Okawa as well, Islam was the consummation of the “Abrahamic reli­
gions” and akin to Christianity in its cultural origins. Its dynamic energy
would find an analogue in the religious pilgrimage of Shfnuei Okawa
himself, who came to Islam via Christianity, Buddhism, Confucianism,
Marxism, Greek philosophy, Indian philosophv, Emerson and the Ger­
man mvstic Jakob Bolune. And vet Islam for Izutsu and Okawa was onlv
a way station, as it were. T h e eyes of both were on the “ Orient” beyond.
It would be a mistake to tie Okawa too tightly to Islam; the same is true
of Izutsu. They both were always focused on what lay bevond “ religion.”
In Anraku no mon (1951; T h e gate to paradise), Okawa, who had
been taken to a mental hospital after Ins erratic behavior during the
Tokyo War Crim es Tribunal, writes that he frequently davdreamed
“ that he met M uham m ad, and, as a result, this strongly revived my
interest in the Koran.”46 During nearly three long months of delir­
ium, he writes, “ Not (a single dav) did I spend without meeting my
mother.”4- And when asked whv he had been living in paradise, he
immediatelv replies, “ because I was living there and thinking of mv
mother.” Me even goes so far as to say, “ Religion is nothing less than
the gate to paradise. And in mv ease, thinking of my mother was my
religion, mv gate to paradise.”4S Although Anraku no mon is his reli­
gious autobiography, this book is also a clear confession that the
beginning and end of his ow n spiritualitv lay in its connection with
his mother. T h e fact that the soul of this intellectual, who bestrode
the religions of the world and its philosophical circles and who left his
mark so indeliblv on his era, was always bonded to his mother mav not
attract much attention in studies of his thought. Even those who deal
with Shfnnei Okawa as a profound student of Islam do not treat this
issue with the same degree of seriousness. But when I think of Okawa,
I recall Augustine, one of the greatest of the Christian fathers. Augus­
tine and Okawa arc alike in wholeheartedly confronting various types
of spirituality, in their intense interaction with the world in times of
invasions and upheavals and in having their mothers as the bedrock of
their faith.
No discussion of Okawa’s and Izutsu’s relation to Islam is possible
without considering its maternal aspect. If the God of Judgment is pater­
nal, “Allah, the most gracious, the most merciful” at the beginning of
the Koran is maternal. O f course, thev are not twro different gods; they
are two different personae, Izutsu would later develop this theme in
Koran o yonw (1983; Reading the Koran). The God of the Koran has
twTo main forms of self-manifestation — jawcll, expressing love, merev,
grace, etc., and jalcll, expressing the power of majesty, awe, severity, and
dominion. Neither Izutsu nor Okawa ever loses sight of the jamal side
of Islam. \Yc have already seen that both of them emphasize Islam as a
religion of tolerance. It is sheer prejudice to say that the monotheistic
religion of Islam is ;c//c7/-like — paternal and intolerant —vet such prej­
udice can be said to be deep-rooted and, for the most part, based on
denial. “ In the Koranic Weltanshaunng, it is jaincll rather than jalal that
has the primary function,” Izutsu savs in Koran o yonm,4t) If G o d ’s love
did not come first, wrc could not exist. 'The pervasive worldview in the
Koran is that merely acknowledging the greatness of the Transcendent is
not enough; faith begins in experiencing witli one’s whole being G o d ’s
all-embracing benevolence.
Toshihiko Izutsu never went to the battlefront. During the war lie
immersed himself in the study of linguistics and in research on Islam,
beginning w'ith Arabia shisoshi. In 1943, a society for philosophical stud­
ies sponsored bv the Committee for the Development of Sciences in
Japan met to discuss the topic “ Building a Greater East Asian Culture
and the Various Philosophical Disciplines.” The lecture Izutsu gave
there, “ Kaikvo ni okeru keiji to risci” (Islamic revelation and reason­
ing), nicely conveys his wartime attitude.50 Japan at the time had already
occupied a string of Islamic countries in Southeast Asia. At the begin­
ning of his lecture, Izutsu stated that no government in the true sense
of the word wras possible in those countries without a serious study of
Islam. Actions taken out of ignorance as the result of a failure to make
 \
such an effort w ould incur the loeal peoples’ eontempt, he said. That
was as far as he would go, hov'Cver, to accommodate the sponsors. As a
single reading makes elcar, the main point of Izutsu’s lecture has abso­
lutely nothing to do with understanding Islam as an administrative tool.
As soon as the leeture starts, as if drawing a line on the subject, he begins
to discuss reason and revelation in Islam, i.e. the conflict between the­
ology and philosophy.
For Toshihiko Izutsu, Shumei Okawa was never either a spokesman
for the spirit of the age or a right-wing giant. “ What I found interest­
ing,” Izutsu says in his eolloquy with Ryotaro Shiba, “ is that he [Shu­
mei Okawa] was someone who truly had a personal interest in Islam.”
What he means by “ personal” is the attitude someone has tow'ard tran­
scendental reality. It is nothing less than that person’s confrontation
with the Absolute in the scareh for salvation. On the other hand, if this
“ personal” experience does not go bevond the individual and aspire to
the salvation of the world, there would he no reason to diseuss these
two men again here. As long as we remain fixated on Shumei Okawa
as an ideologue of the Greater Fast Asian Co-Prosperitv Sphere, it is
impossible to understand what for him was the fundamental issue. If
what Okawa had been seeking had not been the salvation of Asians
rather than the liberation of Asia, there would be no need to remember
him todav. For Toshihiko Izutsu, philosophy was the primal aetivitv of
human beings, whieh is direetly eoneerned with the salvation of the
human raee. During the eolloquv, Shiba suddenly said that Shumei
Okawa, “ rather than being a Japanese rightist, mav have been a Japa­
nese embodiment of nineteenth-eenturvj German romantieism.” ’ 1 Yes,
replied Izutsu, with no hesitation whatsoever. This extremely forthright
agreement seems to have made a deep impression on Shiba sinee he
refers to it in a letter to Ken’iehi Matsumoto, the author of Okawa Shu­
mei (2004).52 Considering that Shiba was a harsh eritie of the war, his
assessment of Okawa is worth noting.
Slulmei Okawa’s research on Islam would become signifieantlv
deeper after his eeecntric behavior at the Tokvo War Crim es Tribu­
nal, his admission to Matsuzawa Hospital, psyehologieal assessment
and exemption from proseeution on the grounds of insanity. Dr Tsu-
neo Muramatsu, the assistant director of Matsuzawa Hospital who was
responsible for SliCnnci OkawTs care, was the father of critic Takeshi
Muramatsu (1929-1994). An entry in OkawTs diary (23 December 1946)
reads, “ I showed the manuscript of mv introduction to religion [i.e.
Kaikyo gairon] to Dr Muramatsu.” One dav Dr Muramatsu gave Oka was
manuscript to his son Takeshi and asked his opinion. 'There are occa­
sional signs of emotional excitement, the son replied, hut the reasoning
is consistent. 'The father said he, too, \\'as of the same opinion, adding in
a murmur, “Then 1 suppose his illness is cured.” 5' When Takeshi Mura­
matsu was writing these recollections, he noted, “ The Asian libcration-
ist’s role had ended. And with it Shfnnci Okawa, who, as a young man
had planned to study religion, seems to have returned to it once again.” '4

Martyrdom and Dialogue: Nallaj and Massignon

In the introduction to Arabia shisoshi, Izutsu cites a stanza from the
poem “ Furui kotoba” (Old words) in Masavuki Kajiura’s poetry collec­
tion Tobiiro no tsuki (1925; Auburn moon). When the work was revised
and published as Isnrdmn shisoshi (1973), the stanza was removed.

Bvgonc words do not die.

Old words sleep in books.
Let the prayers of our God-fearing days
Revive the old words.
Let our eves in our quiet times
Penetrate into the old words’ depths
And praise them."
Masavuki Kajiura (1903-1966) was a mystical poet whom people now­
adays not only don’t discuss hut have consigned to oblivion. I low' did
Toshihiko Izutsu read him? Wasn't “ Let the prayers of our God-fearing
davs / Revive the old words” Izutsu’s praver as w'ell? 'The oldest words
in Islam are the Koran. As 'Toshihiko Izutsu w'ritcs at the beginning of
the Arabia shisoshi, everything began w ith the Koran, not just Islamic
theology but all the seeds of the development, disarray and transforma­
tion of Islamic philosophy are stored in that one book.
It took less than a hundred years from the appearance of the Koran
for Islam to become a great spiritual movement that shook the world.
T h e period before the Prophet M uham m ad and the birth of Islam is
ealled the jahillyya, the state of ignorance. The pre-lslamic Arabs, the
children of Shem who lived during the jahiliyyci, were not a sentimental
people; thev were entirely reliant on their sense perceptions. Izntsu sees
it as inevitable that Islam would prefer Aristotle, whose ideas drew him to
the phenomenal world, to Plato and his thcorv of transcendental Ideas.

The Arabs in ancient times were extremelv sense-oriented; as a result,

thev were materialists; thev were concerned with discreet, individual
things. Thev were utterlv unable to imagine a soul, the most immate­
rial thing of all, separately from the flesh. . . . The existence of a com­
pleted formless and invisible soul would not have seemed believable
to them.’6

Islam solidified, deepened and expanded the primal, sense-oriented

nature of the ancient Arabs. The words of the New Testament, “ Blessed
are those who did not sec and yet believed” (Jn 20:29), make no sense to
Muslims. Francois Mauriac, citing Pascal, said that the greatest miracle
of all is conversion, but for the ancient Arabs such words would probablv
have seemed delusional. Thev wanted their miracles to be utilitarian.

When Jesus began teaching in the land of Judea, most of the crowd
that gathered around him held him in high esteem when they saw the
man\ wondrous things Jesus performed. These masses never stopped
asking Jesus for “a sign.’’ 'This finallv caused Jesus to lament and sav,
“A wicked and unfaithful people seek a sign” [Matt 16:4]. But it was
this mentality of persistently seeking “a sign” that is the essential ethos
of the Semitic people. A sign is a miracle, in other words, a manifesta­
tion, visible to the eyes, of the power of God.’"’

Curing an incurable disease is not the only miracle. If a miracle is

defined as something that surpasses human limitations, something not
achievable by human power alone, then the fact that the world exists
is a miracle. In the very degree to which the ancient Arabs sought util­
itarian “ signs,” they excelled in finding the workings of C o d in mate­
rial things. It is impossible for human beings to make the sun or to
cause the moon to shine. No one knows the depths of the oceans or
the hearts of men. In an appeal to their keen sense perceptions, the
Prophet Muhammad said to the Arab people: Look at the world; ean
vou doubt that God exists?
Yes, the}' sought “ a sign,” but onee tliev realized that signs were
omnipresent in the world, tliev began to use their own powers to make
the visible manifest. To do so was nothing other than to reveal G o d ’s
work even more full}'. The most important treatises of the great medi­
eval Islamic philosopher 11m Sfna were 7 he Book of Healing and an
abridgement of it entitled 7 'he Booh of Salvation. As this shows, before
being a learned pursuit, medicine in Islam was first and foremost
a wav to save the world. This was the reason that science along with
mctaphvsics made such great advances under Islam. In the fields of
medicine, anatomv, phvsiologv and pharmacologv, medieval Islamic
Yunani medicine far surpassed contcmporarv lewels in Europe in
terms of empirical evidence. That was not all. The Arabs were also
students of the practical sciences such as law and astronomv with its
close association with agriculture. In Islam there is no fundamental
conflict between science and religion. Both are contained in God.
Izutsu frcqucntl}' notes that the Islamic sages were not thinkers who
locked themselves away in their ivory towers but practitioners who
lived among ordinary people.
On the other hand, if it is a miracle that the world exists, the search
for truth consists in truly acknow ledging this fact. Those who made it
their duty to live this way of life w ere Islamic mystics, indigent ascetics
known as sufis, meaning those who wear coarse woolen clothing. John
the Baptist comes to mind, who, in the Gospel according to Mark (i:6),
“ wore clothing made of cam el’s hair, with a leather belt around his
w'aist.” Sufism is said to have begun around the ninth century. "That
is, of course, an English term; in Arabic it is called tasawwuf. A form
of asceticism, it wras the w'av of a hob' person or, to borrow' a Buddhist
expression, the Hmayana or lesser-vehicle path of ascetic practice that
sought the salvation of the individual soul. Sufism w ould pass through
the ninth-centurv Persians BastamT and Junayd of Baghdad until with
I.Iallaj it would break through this barrier and reach religious heights,
bringing blessing to the entire w'orld of being.
I.Iallaj was a mystic who defined his age, and not only for the his­
tory of Islam; T’o shilliko Izutsu, too, had a special affection for him.

(B
First, there was his intellectual interest in him as the forerunner who
prepared the wav for Islamic mvstic philosophy, which began with Ibn
‘Arab! (1165-1240). Then, there w7as the influence of Louis Massignon
(1883-1962), the leading twentieth-century French scholar of Islam,
who brought Hallaj out of historical obscurity. And finally there was
his awe and respect for the fate of this man, who, as the result of a state­
ment made at the climax of a mystical experience, wxis executed and
died what might well be called a martyrs death.
Hallaj was born around 857 in Baida, a town in Fars, in the south­
western part of what is now Iran, and died in Baghdad in 922. His entire
life wes spent in travel and ascetic practices, in pilgrimages and preach­
ing. T he experience of God filled his every day. A mvstic is someone
w'ho aspires to devote his/her life to the Transcendent, but in IJallaj’s
case, rather than experiencing God, he himself became “ G o d .” One
day, Hallaj said, “A/zc/7 Haqq" — I am the Truth. In other words, he said
that he w7as God. If his words are taken literally, “ G o d ” had become
incarnate in Hallaj. His statement would be exactly equivalent to Jesus
of Nazareth declaring himself to be God. In Islam, how'ever, acknowl­
edging the incarnation of God is not simply heresy; it is blasphemy.
God is not like human beings whose existence is onlv local; God is the
absolutelv Transcendent One.
The fate of a mystic judged to have blasphemed God was death. In
922, after more than nine years in prison, Hallaj w7as executed. Accord­
ing to Farid al-Dln ‘Attar’s “ Memorial of the S a i n t s , ' w h e n Hallaj
was confined in prison, his captors intended to free him provided he
recanted what he had said. A follower begged his teacher to recant.
Whereupon Hallaj opened his mouth and said, “Are vou telling God,
who said this, to apologize?” He could retract his own words, he said,
but it was not he who said he was God, but God himself. I low7could a
human being stifle the words of the Absolute?
In the past, H allaj’s teachers Junavd and Bastaml had said that
God was made manifest through themselves. But thev had never said
w ithout anv reservation, as Hallaj did, that thev themselves were God.
Hallaj knew that he was not the Absolute One. W'hat he w'as saving
instead was that God is omnipresent. If God is absolutelv omnipresent,
Hallaj, too, might become part of God. Since this could he said of all
beings, they all could sav that they were expressions, though incom­
plete, of God. Some might call this pantheism. But IJallaj ’s unshake-
able belief was something different. Pantheism is the polytheistic
notion that all things are divine, but that was not what l.lallaj meant.
The One God exists in all things universally and inseparably, lienee,
all things, he said, had to be God.
The one who said, “ A n a l IJaqq ,” was “ G o d ” existing deep inside
IJallaj. If there is an Absolute who truly transcends human beings, that
Absolute must not onlyj be externally* transcendent in the sense that
people look up to it, it must also he deep within; in other words, it
must transcend internally, i.e. immanently. 'The proposition that IJallaj
risked his life to proclaim was that the unconditionally absolute tran­
scendence of God was nothing less than Curd’s true nature in wJiich
God and human beings are inseparable and, what is more, in which
the world originally and inextricably exists with God. Today, IJallaj’s
concept of God is an accepted mode of thought called panentheism bv
R.A. Nicholson and others to distinguish it from pantheism, but almost
no one thought that wav at the time. Panentheism would form the
ontological foundation of Islamic mystic philosophy.
Toshihiko Izutsn observes that there mav have been some Syrian
Christian influence on IJallaj’s spirituality. There is a theory that the
etymology of sufl derives from the woolen dress of Christian ancho­
rites. Moreover, IJallaj’s father was a Zoroastrian. Thus, a heterodox
spirituality naturally coursed through Hallaj’s soul. It was his lot to
transcend religion in the narrow sense. The person who would raise
IJallaj’s spiritual legacy to the level of philosophy was Ibn ‘Arabf; his
thought would break free of the confines of Islam and even have an
influence on Dante.
In the Old Testament book of Deuteronomy (21:23), ^1C following
verse seems to prophesy Hallaj’s death: “The corpse that is hanged on a
tree is cursed bv God.” These seem like ill-omened w'ords, vet a person
hanged on a tree for calling himself the god of Jerusalem around the
year 30 was later hailed as the savior of the world, Jesus Christ. What I
have written here about IJallaj, brief though it is, depends on \,a pas­
sion cle Husayn ibn Mansur HaJJdj: martyr mystique de VIslam by Tonis
MassignonT As not just Toshihiko Izutsu but the people of the Islamic

(A
world acknowledge, if it had not been for Massignon, Hallaj would
never ha\'e been known today.FPhe reason behind Massignon’s choice
of the word “ passion” in the title was, of course, Christs Passion with a
capital P. Massignon was a devout Catholic who in later years became
a Melkite priest; it is perhaps possible to see this act as his profound
homage to Hallaj.

Massignon was born in 1883 in Val-de-Marne, France. His father was

a friend of Huysmans, and, on his fathers advice, the seventecn-year-old
Massignon met the novelist. Like this writer, Massignon would later
experience a dramatic religious conversion. M assign o n ’s e n c o u n ­
ter with Hallaj took place in 1907, when at twenty-four he learned of
Hallaj’s existence in “ Memorials of the Saints” by the twelfth-century
Persian poet ‘Attar. The drama of his ow n conversion w'ould take place
the following year. His completed study of Hallaj was published in 1975,
many years after his death; it w'as literally his life’s work.
In Edward Said ’s Orientalism (1978), Massignon and Hamilton
Gibb are singled out for extensive discussion as Europeans w'ith a superb
understanding of the Orient. Jacques Derrida, wrho was personally
acquainted w ith Toshihiko Izutsu, waote about Massignon’s activities in
his later years. One winders w'hether Derrida and Izutsu ever discussed
Massignon. Derrida w'as an Algerian. Massignon wras deeply involved
in the Algerian War, as a friend of Algiers rather than as a Frenchman.
A professor at the College de France and one of the finest scholars of
Islam of his dav, he wras also an activist w'ho revered Gandhi. What
aroused Derrida’s interest w'as the movement know n as Badalfva, w'hieh
Massignon founded w'ith the aim of bridging the gap between Islam and
Christianity. Derrida regarded Massignon as someone who embodied
the possibility of a religious reconciliation on a completely different
dimension from syncretism — Derrida called it the “ praver front.”60
Toshihiko Izutsu wras even more forthright in his sympathy for Mas­
signon. Massignon’s influence led him “ to a strange w'orld that goes far
beyond mere scholarship.”

Massignon w'hcn discussing Hallaj —that is not what is called “schol­

arship” as wc normally think of it. It is a living record of the existential
 encounter between a tenth-century s f i f l who, at the climax of an utterly
transformative experience, called out, or could not help but call out,
“A/7C/VI J a q c f ' (I am God) at the risk of his own death, and that formi­
dable and marvelous spirit, Massignon, who p e r s o n a l l y received him
in the mid-twentieth century. It evokes enduring interest and invites
us to a strange world that goes far bevond mere scholarship/’1
In terms of his depth of knowledge and breadth of vision in the
area of mystic philosophy as a w hole and, in particular, for the origi­
nality of his study of Gnosis in the Sln ’a school of Islam, there is no
member of his generation comparable — the object of these w'ords of
high praise from Izutsu w'as 1 lenry Corbin (1903-197(8). I Ie was literally
a member of the same generation as l/.utsu and one of the few thinkers
whom Izutsu acknowledged. But even Corbin “ must be said to be infe­
rior to his teacher,” Izutsu wrote, “ especially when it comes to the exis­
tential profundity' of his reading in Oriental thought.” Corbin’s teacher
w'as Massignon. When one thinks of Massignon, Izutsu goes on to saw
it is not just his extensive knowledge and the fruits of his scholarship
but “ the intensity' of his passion that strikes the reader’s heart.”62
Hallaj w;as undoubtedly a heretic. He w'as judged and executed as
such. But sometimes a heretic appears, leads a revolution and prepares
for the appearance of true orthodox}’. We have seen over and over again
the historical proof that such people are not destructive subversives but
the enemies of delusion and hypocrisy. Those who have been branded
as heretics are erased from history. Their memory is preserved in the
testimonies of the side that condemned them. It is in these documents,
Massignon writes, that w'e must find the fragments of truth. His w'as a
spirit that gloried not in relating his owai view's but in breaking through
the silence imposed by time and bringing back to life view’s that had
long been suppressed. This for him w'as indeed “a sacred duty.” The
fact that Massignon staked his life on reviving a person buried in histor­
ical oblivion is not simply a matter of scholarly interest. What is clear
in Massignon’s account is not that he discovered Hallaj but rather his
firm conviction that Hallaj had chosen him to do so. For Massignon,
Hallaj w'as not a person from the past. I Ie w'as nothing less than some­
one alive in another world, the living dead, as it w'crc. The dialogue
between the two of them occurs on the “ synchronic” dimension of
what Izutsu calls the “ synchronic structuralization” of philosophy.
Aside from his existential fellow feeling, there are other points of
contact between Izutsu and Massignon: an exceptional genius for lan­
guages and the Eranos Conference. Massignon was a linguistic genius
in no wav inferior to Toshihiko Izutsu. He spoke more than ten lan­
guages and read fluently more than twice that number. I Icrbert Mason
wrote his recollections of Massignon.6’ In his youth, as if drawn bv
something, Mason met Massignon toward the end of the latter’s life,
cultivated an acquaintance with him and was ultimately entrusted
with translating into English. For Massignon learning a language was
not confined to acquiring a means of scholarship; it meant opening
the eves of the soul. What was truly astonishing, however, above and
beyond his outstanding linguistic abilities, Mason says, was that he
found documents in the dust and ashes of history, deciphered them,
read and understood them and, what is more, uncovered their hidden
meaning. It almost seemed as though Massignon “ were himself person-
all}' [their] old interpreter restored momentarily to life."64 I have heard
similar statements from people who had been taught bv Izutsu.
T h e Eranos Conference began in 1933 under the leadership of
Carl Gustav Jung (1875-1961) and Rudolf Otto (1869-1937) with the
aim of overcoming the fragmentation of spirituality, which had been
split between East and West. Since Massignon first took part in Era­
nos in 1937, it would be fair to say he was one of the participants at
its beginning stage. His topic at that time was Gnosis in Islam.6’ The
last time lie attended Eranos was in 1955; he continued to be a central
member up until then. His final lecture was on Fatima, M uham m ad’s
daughter, the wife o f ‘Ali, founder of the S lu ’ite sect, and the mother
of his two sons.66 Women have tended to be hidden in Islam. Despite
the indispensabilitv of their activities, thev lurk in the shadows of his­
tory. The greatest of these, Massignon said, wras Fatima. In this woman,
reminiscent of Man- in Christianity, he saw the manifestation of the
maternal aspect of religion, w'hose role is to effect an undifferentiated
harmony. Izutsu participated in Eranos in 1967. He soon became a
leading figure along w'ith Corbin.
 Farlier I wrote that in his later vears Massignon became a priest.
Massignon, wTo \\'as married, eould not become a Roman Catholic
priest since the}' take vows of celibacy. And so, though himself a Cath­
olic, he became a priest not of the Roman Catholic Church but of the
Mclkitc Church. The Mclkitc Church (more accurately, the Mclkite
Creek Catholic Church) is virtually unknown in Japan. Its history is
said to date back to the time of Jesus/’7 A unique form of Christianity,
nurtured bv Arab spirituality, it continues to live on in Arab society even
today. In order to become a priest, Massignon did not have to convert to
the Mclkitc sect. He received special dispensation from Pope Pius XII.
Before Vatican II, it was not easy to find ways to bridge the gap between
Islam and the Christian world. That was a time when Catholics called
any faith except their owai a heresy. Massignon aimed to become a
peacemaker between the two major religions by living as a Christian
of the Mclkitc Clmreb, w'hich integrated the spirituality of Christianity
with Arabic spirituality. On n October 1962, Pope John XXIII convened
Vatican II. As if affirming the direction the Council would eventually
take, Massignon died at the end of that same month. After Vatican II,
Catholics initiated a dialogue with Islam. This dramatic change, it has
been said, woidd never have occurred without Massignon.
Four vears later, at the beginning of Sufism and Taoism , Izutsu
quotes Henry Corbin’s words “ un dialogue dans la metahistoirc,”68 and
savs that he is writing this work not only for its academic interest but
in response to the needs of the times. Through his dialogue between
Christianity and Islam on religious issues and through his activities on
behalf of peace in Islamic society, Massignon spent bis life not simply in
scholarly study but in “ un dialogue dans la mctahistoirc.” “ Metahistor­
ical” or “ transhistorical” are words that clearly convey Corbin’s attitude
toward scholarship, but this attitude also proclaims Corbin to be the
student of Massignon.
The term “dialogue” would become a key word in Toshihiko Izutsu’s
late period. Religious dialogue can never achieve its objective if it is
constantly concerned wath identifying areas of agreement in dogma, cer­
emonies or rituals. “ Religious” dialogue must be practiced on a strictly
“ religious” dimension. At the social level, Izutsu notes, no deepening
of fundamental understanding can be expected despite repeated dia­
logues. But the “ religious” dimension includes and transcends the social
dimension. Despite its inextricable relation to existing societies, it is not
necessarily dependent on them. The death of Hallaj, for example, was
an execution in the social dimension, hut a martyrdom in the religious
dimension. In other words, the study of the life of Hallaj the martyr is
nothing less than an elucidation of the reality of the “ religious” dimen­
sion. For Izutsu, the person who, through his scholarship and his prac­
tical activities, illuminated the “ religious” dimension was Massignon.
 Russia: The Spirituality of Night

T h e W riter’s Mission

is of mere intellectual interest that one speaks about

I
T NOT OUT
Russia. The questions posed by nineteenth-century Russian men
of letters, Izutsu writes at the beginning of Roshiateki ningen: Kindai
Roshia bungakushi (Russian humanity: A history of modern Russian
literature), arc “ the big issues concerning the life and death of the soul”
that will go on being asked bv people living in other countries and in
subsequent centuries.1

Nineteenth-century Russian literature has been a passion of mine since

mv* student davs.
* Mv* encounter with Russian literature drew me into an
extraordinary world of spiritual experiences and visions... . Around that
time 1 really immersed myself in Russian literature. And it certainly
shocked m\r soul to its verv foundations, changed mv view of human
life and revealed to me an unknown dimension lurking in the depths
of existence, hi that sense, the works of nineteenth-century Russian
literature taught me, in a form no technical treatise on philosophy
could ever do, what a living philosophy might be, or rather, what it
might be to l i v e p h i l o s o p h y . 2
Reading literature is not a matter of acquiring information. The reader
accompanies the writer on a journey, gets lost, encounters fundamental
issues of which even the author was unaware and ultimately proceeds
onward all alone. At that time;-the writer becomes a guide such as Ver­
gil was for Dante. But it is Dante who sees, who is entrusted with a
vision by the Lord of Heaven. T h e reader, too, witnesses and partici­
pates in the vision that the author has experienced —that is the charm
of Roshiateki ningen and its present-day significance. What Izutsu
w rites about is not Russia as a time-bound phenomenon; it is the “ eter­
nal Russia’' that has persisted through the ages.
As is mentioned in the Aftenvord written to accompany volume
3 of his selected w'orks, there was an earlier version of Roshiateki nin­
gen , a textbook used in a Keio University correspondence course enti­
tled Roshia bungaku (Russian literature).3 It began to be distributed as
teaching material in 1951. Given its textbook nature, there were limits
to its size, and so Roshia bungaku was only seven chapters long. Roshi­
ateki ningen was fourteen chapters, twice the length of its predecessor.
It \\'as published two vears later in 1953.
These are not the onlvj works in which Toshihiko Izutsu deals
wi th Ru ssian literature, however. T h e re are tw7o others, “ Torusu-
toi ni okeru ishiki no mujunsei ni tsuite” (1952; On the paradoxical
nature of consciousness in Tolstov), which is found in the collection
of his miscellaneous essays, Yonui to kaku (Reading and writing), and
“ Roshia no naimenteki seikatsu: jukvuseiki bungaku no seishinshiteki
tenbo” (1948; Interior life in Russia: A spiritual history perspective on
nineteenth-eenturv literature).4 T h e latter work was not onlv never
included in his published w'orks; no reference to it seems ever to have
been made, even bv Izutsu himself. It wras written in 1948, three vears
before the publication of Roshia bungaku , and appeared in the liter­
ary magazine Kosei (Individuality), which was put out by Shisakusha.
In the same issue, the name of Osamu Dazai appears in the table of
contents. This w7as Izutsu s first studv of Russian literature. T h e poet
Pushkin’s true nature was that of a revolutionarv in the cause of spir­
ituality; Lermontov was an angelic poet who had fallen to earth; Tvu-
tehev wras a poet w'ho wrrote about “ Being” not beings; before being a
writer, Dostoevskv was a mvstie who sought the salvation of all human­
ity; Chekhov w7as a prophet w7ho had renounced religion. Bv the time
of this essav, it w'ould be fair to sav, the view's that would be expressed
in Roshiciteki niiwen luid already solidified. A w ork of around seventy
pages, it is closer to Roshiciteki ningen than to Rashia himgaku in its
structure as well, in that it deals with Russian spirituality and discusses
it conprchcnsivcly from Pushkin to Chekhov.
“ Russians are religious even in the very manner with which they
reject religion” —the Russian people whom Ixutsu describes in this
wav do not necessarily have much use for religion as a social institu­
tion.5 In Roshiciteki ningen , he writes, “ Communism is a new' religion
that denies religion.” “ When t think of the form in which Marxism
was received in late-ninctccnth-ccntury Russia,” he saws, “1 cannot
help hut recall that Marx was a Jew', and his father had once been a
devout believer in Judaism. Marx’s revolutionary w'orldvicw' was apoc­
alyptic and extremely Jcwvish in its essential structure. It wxis precisely
from within such an anomalous atmosphere that Leninism arose.”6 For
Izutsu, Marxism, far from being unrelated to Jewish eschatology, w'as
the most austere expression of that spirituality to appear in modern
times. Communism in Russia w'as not a political ideology; it was noth­
ing less than the embodiment of messianic thought.
O f course, Izutsu was well aw'are wiien he wTote this that Marx w'as
not Russian. But, as was true in the ease of the “ Orient,” “ Russia” for
him did not only mean the geographical region occupied by a great
northern nation; it signified another world, w’hat Berdyaev called “ the
realm of the spirit.” In Izutsu’s eyes, the German-horn Marx wras also
a citizen of that “ realm of the spirit.” Had that not been the ease, he
savs, it would he impossible to understand the reception of Marxism bv
Lenin and the Russians of his era. The Jew'ish strain that runs through
Marx; the eschatological mentality that pervades Marxism; in short,
a proletarian messianism w'hich preaches that the proletariat w ill he
the messiah of the age to come — Izutsu does not mention Berdyaev’s
name, hut his influence here is clear. These ideas w'crc not Berdyaev’s
alone, how'ever. The question of “ religiosity” in Marxism had also been
noted by Mcrczhkovskv; though not Russian, Bertrand Russell among
others saw' an archetypal spiritual/mcntal congruence between Lenin’s
communist state and Augustine’s City of Cod.
The following is a passage from Berdyaev’s Dostoevsky's Worldview
(1923). “ [Socialism has sprouted in Jewish soil. It is the secular form of
the old Hebrew7millenarianism, Israel’s hope in the miraculous earthly
kingdom and temporal bliss. It-was not by chance that Karl Marx wras a
Jew. He cherished the hope for the future appearance of a messiah, the
inverse of the Jesus w7hom the Hebrew's had rejected; but for him, the
elect of God, the messianic people, wtis the proletariat and he invested
that elass with all the attributes of the chosen race.” " In the passage
cited earlier, Izutsu said, “ I cannot help but recall that Marx was a
Jew7, and his father had once been a devout believer in Judaism.” He
could w'ell have added, ‘‘as Berdyaev w'rites.” The name of Berdyaev, a
leading tw entieth-century Russian intellectual, does, of course, appear
several times in Roshiateki ningen. Izutsu lets the reader know7 he is
familiar w'ith him. At the time Roshiateki ningen came out, Berdvaev
had ahead}7begun to be read in Japan. There w7ere several translations
of his w7orks, including Dostoevsky's Worldview, s and critical studies by
Nobuhiko Miyazaki9 and Bernard Schultze had also been published.10
Izutsu w7as not concealing Berdyaev’s influence. The issue here, rather,
is what Izutsu believed so strongly that he felt compelled to personalize
the discussion of Marx and begin w'ith the w7ord “ I.”
Recall the w7ords eited earlier: “ My encounter w'ith Russian litera­
ture drew7 me into an extraordinary w orld of spiritual experiences and
visions.” T h e process by which the idea of revolution, conceived by
Marx, had been put into practice by Lenin w7as a cataclysmic change in
spirituality that resembled a religious reformation. Perhaps w'hilc read­
ing Berdvaev’s books, Izutsu saw7 it as a “ vision.” The fact that he could
not take his eyes off Marx’s father w7hen considering Marx’s spirituality7
w7as likely the result of his ow7n acute aw'areness of w7hat he had inher­
ited from his own father that wras still flow ing through him.
As is true in the ease of Rilke and Sartre in Shinpi tetsugaku (1949;
Philosophy of mysticism), w hen a person or a book had a fundamental
impact on Izutsu, in manv instances, the name of that person or book
does not appear in his works. That is because the influence occurred
subconsciously, as it w7ere, rather than consciously When considering
Berdyaev’s influence on Roshiateki ningen, the “ religiosity” of Marxism
is a topic that cannot be overlooked, but it is not the primarv issue. The
heart of the matter is Berdyaev’s personalism, the spirit of sohomost, which
means a community7 of “ persons” in the true sense, eitizens not of the
\\rorld but of the Kingdom of Cod. If we recall that the writing of “ Roshia
no naimenteki seikatsu” preceded Sliinpi tetsugaku, it may have been an
event that occurred close to lzutsu’s intellectual starting point. “ Persona"
wras also alluded to in the preceding chapter, for Berdyaev, pcrsonalitv
is a synonvm for “ spirit.” Moreoxer, “ God is Spirit,” he writes in the
posthumously published w'ork, Hie Realm of the Spirit and the Realm of
Caesar (1949). “ Cod is Spirit and Freedom. . . . God is a person.” " The
transcendcntlv Absolute is a spiritual reality, manifesting itself pcrsonallv
of its ow n free w ill. In “The Problem of Man: Towards the Construction
of a Christian Anthropologv” (1936),12 too, be sa\rs that all beings includ­
ing the cosmos exist w ithin personality, not the other wax' around; thus,
pcrsonalitv is not a concept, it is the name of the ultimate Realitx.
With Pushkin’s appearance in the nineteenth ccnturw lzutsu
writes, suddcnlv, without warning, a “ w'orld literature” xx'as born in
Russia.1’ Lxcryonc begins the historv of Russian literature with Push­
kin. If that w ere all, it w'ould not ha\rc been a particularlv new' idea.
But lzutsu does not restrict the subject of his statement to Pushkin the
man. Just as religion begins with a prophet who receix'es a rcx'elation, in
nineteenth-centurx’ Russia, literature began with the arrix al of this poet.
Not only did Pushkin by his efforts bring about the daw'n of Russian
literature, lzutsu says; a cultural unix'ersal that might be called Russian
spirituality' announced itself through that poet’s mouth.
To the exes of “ Russian humanitx',” as lzutsu saw it, the spirit is
alw'ax's xisiblc beneath its \rcil of flesh. Those eyes recognize the “ true
reality” behind the exerx'day realities w'hich it subsumes. Thex pereeix'C
that in some wax' this world docs not completely reflect that true reality'.
“ Russian humanitx'” sw'ings x iolcntly back and forth between appear­
ances and reality —between radical skepticism about the phenomenal
w'orld and an insatiable longing for heax'en. Just as Daisctz Suzuki
speaks of a Japanese spirituality, in Russia there is a Russian spirituality,
lzutsu calls it the “ eternal Russia.” '4 It is both a historical entity embod­
ied bxr Peter the Great and manifested sx'mbolically in geniuses of ex'ery
walk of life, Pushkin, Lcrmontox’, Tyutchev, Dostoex sky, Lenin, yet it is
also a “ synchronic” one that transcends the barriers of time.
In his dx'namie w'riting style, Tosh ill iko lzutsu describes the process
by w hich the Russian people, freed from 300 years of'Tatar oppression,
experienced the awakening of the sleeping Russian spirit and were trans­
formed into “ Russian humanity” in the true sense. At the same time, this
work is nothing less than an attempt to find the gateway to the universal
in the local — in this case, nineteenth-century Russia. If that had not
been so, the following words would lose their credibility: “ Just as today
there are those who fanatically call Communist Russia the Motherland
in a political sense, there are others who just as fervently love it on a
completely different level from this and feel that Russia is the home­
land of the soul.” '5 If the subject of Shinpi tetsugaku had been nous, in
Roshiateki ningen it is “ spirit” or “ persona.” What Izutsu has portrayed
in this work is the manifestation of persona in the phenomenal world,
as revealed by nineteenth-century' Russian men of letters.

The earliest person to observe that the central thesis in Berdyaev

is the concept of sobornost was Keisuke Noguchi (1913-1975), the out­
standing translator of Berdyaev who translated two of his works cited ear­
lier, among others. Noguchi did not translate sobornost in the sense of a
commonality of mentality and/or spirituality, or the communalitv that
results from it. Perhaps he was hesitant to do so. Instead, he translates a
passage from Berdyaev’s Eschatological Metaphysics (1947) as follows.

Heaven becomes possible for me only when there is no longer even

one single person among all living things who experiences eternal
suffering. People cannot be saved bv themselves alone apart from
other people. Salvation becomes a reality only when everyone with­
out exception is freed from suffering.'6

Here, clearly, N oguchi writes, the traditional mentality of making

the salvation of all humankind one’s earnest praver —a mentality that
Berdyaev inherited from his predecessors, Dostoevsky and Solow ov,—
flows on in unbroken succession. Presumably Izutsu, too, read Escha­
tological Metaphysics —in the original Russian, of course. One cannot
help thinking so when reading the following passage: “ Russian liter­
ature, even, or especially, in the ease of nonreligious or antireligious
writers, is strikingly eschatological. Berdyaev calls this the ‘ Russian
Apocalypse.’ There is an extraordinary prophetic fervor among Russian
literary men in the wav they go about their work thinking they must
save the world, they must reveal to their suffering fellow human beings
the wray to salvation.” ’7 It is not only the contents of the passages that
arc similar; the earnest praver in both echoes one another.
The concept of sobornost is also alive in Izulsu’s studv of Dostocvskv.
He discusses it in terms of Doslocvskv’s “ Moseowr-orientedness.”,s This
strange-sounding term is not the idea of an elite; in Dostoevsky’s day
Moscow was on the Russian periphery. It might rather be called the
idea of a kind of apostolate. The Apostles w ho appear in the New7Tes­
tament, having been chosen bv Christ, dispersed throughout the world
and ended their lives in martyrdom, dims, Moseow-orientcdncss is the
idea that the Russian people have been chosen as public servants to the
world and endowed with a unique mission: “ Russia is the onlv nation
on earth whose people uphold ‘the highest truth’; hence, the world will
in due course be saved wdicn Russia becomes the center of the world.”u;
H i e Dostoevsky whom Toshihiko Izutsu describes is a soul wlio per-
sistentlv seeks the salvation of humankind.

For Dostoevskv, whose ultimate desire was the religious salvation of the
whole human raee, if only a very few special people —be they mystics
or lepers —who had been vouchsafed a direct vision of the “eternal
present” were saved, it would all be for naught if the remaining tens
of millions of the masses who were unable to have this experience
were left behind. No matter how precious the experience of rapturous
ecstasy might be, if it only ended there, it would be ineffective and
powerless.20
This statement—reminiscent of the Bodhisattva Path in Buddhism, the
belief that those wlio are saved should remain in the w'orld of suffering
for the sake of all sentient beings — trulv convevs Dostocvskv’s earnest
pravers. And yet, although this idea wras uncompromisinglv expressed
in Dostoevskv, it would also become the spiritual basso continuo, as it
were, in the w orks of all the winters discussed in Roshiateki ningen.
In Old Testament times, it w'as not just people like the priest Ezekiel
w'ho became prophets. Amos, wliom Izutsu frequently mentions, wras
a farmer. In Christianitv there arc saints like Catherine of Siena, wlio,
though in no position of pow'er, had an influence on the pope of her
day. When Muhammad received his revelations, he was a prominent
merchant. In the eighteenth-centurv German-speaking countries, it was
musicians who were charged with a similar destiny. That is the reason
Izutsu refers to Bach when discussing Dostoeysky and the poet Tyu-
tchey.21 In nineteenth-century Russia, this role was entrusted to literary
figures. The “ ultimate objective” of Russian literature, Izutsu writes, was
“ the search for the highest harmony that must be hiding somewhere, in
the human soul or in the flesh or wherever soul and flesh brush or beat
against one another, one knows not where but somew here.”21 It w'as for
that reason their lives recall the pilgrimage of seekers after truth.
And yet Chekhov w'as a doctor; Tvutehev a diplomat; Lermontov
an officer in the guards. Dostoevsky was almost executed for his polit­
ical activities. Thereafter, he made publishing his vocation and lived
to put his precepts into practice. On the other hand, after Pushkin’s
death, Gogol sincerely believed that the salvation of the Russian peo­
ple rested on his shoulders and made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Belin­
sky cursed God yet never stopped seeking the truth. Tolstoy wras not a
preacher of Christian charity, Izutsu believes, but rather a heretic who
tried to find true holiness by going back to a time that predated religion
and searching for the origins of Being. These literary men chose to
immerse themselves deeply in the secular w'orld w'here each of them
lived as ordinary citizens, while maintaining strong connections to
the spirit of the times. “ T hey were mystics before they were philoso­
p h ers’ —substitute “ men of letters” for “ philosophers” in this sentence
from Shinpi tetsugaku and it applies perfectly to Roshiateki ningen.
What Izutsu calls “ mystics” are not world-w ean’ misanthropes fix ing in
peace and quiet. They are doers of deeds \\To lead upright lives, play­
ing their part, attempting to sa\;e all humankind while deeply involved
in the world. They show' no interest in solving the world’s enigmas the
way self-styled mystics do. For them an enigma is not a puzzle to be
sol\red; it is nothing less than a hard fact to be lix’ed through.
For the Russian people, suffering under the despotism and oppres­
sion that the curious fusion of tsarism and the Orthodox Church had
gi\ren rise to, literature was more than an art form; it was an oracle, a
divine message that told them how to live. That does not mean they
regarded literature in the same light as religion. But w hen the primary
concern of the Church was no longer the salx ation of the faithful but
its own hegemon}', there was no need to doubt that religious leaders
were no longer the ones entrusted with the words of heaven. It was
against this background that Wluit Is to Be Done? (1863), the novel
by the social thinker Chcrnvshcvskv, appeared. Literary critic llideo
Kobayashi (1902-1983) writes that this man’s life was that of a saint.
The reason Chcrnvshcvskv chose the novel form at this time was
not onK' to avoid the censorship a monograph would inevitablv incur.
He did not write Wlwt Is to Be Done? at a desk in his studv. The novel
was written in prison after the authorities had arrested him for appeal­
ing for real freedom and just before lie was sent to Siberia. If the pres­
ent situation continued, countless men and women would be sent to
prison for no legitimate reason. When he thought that these might be
his last words, he began to write, addressing his ideas not to the intelli­
gentsia but to the narod—the people. As a result, his book wras not only
read by untold numbers of Russians, one of those readers wras Lenin.
This long novel prepared the wav for revolution.
In the last vear of his life, Dostoevsky, in his famous “ Pushkin
speech,” spoke of this poet as a prophet. Pushkin had, in fact, been per­
secuted merely for being a seeker after truth. When we look at Push­
kin’s life, we arc astonished bv his poetry but also by the way hardships
and deprivations appear in human form and, one after another, press
in upon him. Even his death in a duel can be likened to martyrdom.
When Dostoevskv, wTo regarded Pushkin as a prophet, ended his
speech, he, too, was hailed as one by the people.

The Seer of Souls and the Mystie

j Poet:
Dostoevskv* and Tyutchev
j

Those w'lio w'rite about Dostoevskv struggle to find tbc right words to
describe him. Some sav he was a prophet, a saint. Others, like Strakhov,
cultivated a friendship w'ith him during his lifetime but did a complete
about face after his death and called him a narcissistic fantasist. Berdyaev
wrote that he w'as not a psychologist but a pncumatologist from the
Greek word pneuma meaning “ breath” or “ w'ind.” Pneunia signifies not
only the physical breath or w'ind but also the breath of God, the w'ind of
God; w'ith the rise of Christianity, it became another name for the third
person of the Trinity, the Holv Spirit. Literary eritie 11icleo Kobayashi
expressed his partial approval for Berdyaev’s term pneumatologist, but
searched desperately for a different word, without being able to come up
with anything better.2' With no hesitation whatsoever, Toshihiko Izutsu
called Dostoevsky the “ seer of souls,”24 as if to sav anyone who overlooks
this quality doesn’t know what this author is talking about. This one term
also suggests a special something Izutsu found in this writer. In Dosto­
evsky he perceived something important that cannot be encapsulated
just by the term “ mystic” as it was used in Shinpi tetsugciku.
“The works of this ‘mere realist’ seem to speak to me in this wav:
Why shouldn’t philosophy and psychology become a double-edged
sword and pierce your heart?” writes Kobayashi in a study of Crime and
Punishment, 25 T h e “ mere realist” is Dostoevsky; the quotation marks
indicate that Kobayashi was undecided about how to redefine this “ real­
ist” author. What Kobayashi means by “ philosophy” is the metaphys­
ics that flow's from Plato through Plotinus down to Bergson, in other
words, Izutsu s “ philosophy of mysticism.” “ Psychology” for him does
not refer to the science of treating mental disorders. In what would
become one of Kobayashi’s last w'orks, a study of the novelist and eritie
Hakucho Masamune, he cites a passage from Vergil quoted on the title
page of Freud’s Interpretation of Dreams: “ Flceterc si ncquco Superos,
Acheronta m ovebo” (If I cannot bend the Gods above, I shall move
the underworld).26 For Kobayashi “ psychology” was connected with the
other w'orld, the land of souls.
O f the works on Dostoevsky by English writers, the one that
Kobayashi called the most interesting and the most distinctive was J.
Middleton Murry’s Dostoevsky (1916). This singular stud}- also aroused
Izutsu’s interest. In his “ Introduction to Linguistics” course, the lectures
he gave around the same time that he \\’as lecturing on Russian litera­
ture, Izutsu referred to Murry's views on w'hat it is like to look into the
other world. “ I do not know whether mv experience is common to all
those who read and are fascinated bv the works ot Dostoevsky,” Murry
apologetically begins before w eav ing words that read like a confession.

There are times, when thinking about the spirits which he

[Dostoevsky] has conjured up —I use the word deliberately —I am

bO
 sci/ccl by a suprascnsual terror. Por one aw ful moment I seem to see
tilings w'itli the ewe of eternity, and have a vision of suns grow n eolcl,
and hear the eeho of voiees calling wathout sound across the waste
and frozen universe. . . . And I am afraid with a fear that chills me
even to remember that these spirits should one dav put on a mortal
body and move among men.27

Raskolnikov, Sonva, Ivan Karamazov, Myshkin, Murrv believes, arc

people who have real existence in another world. In this reading, Dos­
toevsky becomes a kind of shaman. Litcrarv criticism is not a matter of
enumerating facts; it is nothing less than the act of entering into the
time and space that the subjects under discussion inhabit and bringing
them back to life in the present. In bis determination to do just that,
Hidco Kobavashi found a rare and staunch ally in Murry.
In their recognition of Dostoevsky as an author who inhabited the
spirit world, Hidco Kobavashi and Toshihiko Izutsu deeply intersect. If
that were not the case, Izutsu would probably not have called Dosto­
evsky the “seer of souls,” and Kobavashi, who loved the seer Rimbaud,
would perhaps not have hesitated over bow to describe this author. In a
lecture given a long time after he had put his study of Dostoevsky aside,
Kobavashi said he bad done so because he did not understand Christi­
anity.28 The Christianity' that Kobavashi was referring to, however, was
not Catholicism or Protestantism. Some say that Dostoevsky embodied
Russian Orthodox spirituality. While it is certainly true that Dostoevsky
did to some extent have expectations of the Orthodox Clmreh, he also
denounced it for being far removed from the True Church. Catholi­
cism, be believed, was Christianity that bad yielded to the temptation
of the Devil. Read the entries in Dostoevsky's A Writers Diaiy (1S73-
1881).29 He expresses bis inexhaustible faith in Christ but not in Christi­
anity. He believes in Christ and, for that reason, must not become like
ordinary Christians —wasn’t that his creed? Dostoevsky's “ church,” too,
was in that other world, where, as Murry observes, the characters in his
novels live.
“ [I]f someone proved to me that Christ were outside the truth, and
it really were that the truth lay outside Christ, I would prefer to remain
with Christ rather than with the truth.” '0 Toshihiko Izutsu quotes these
words of Dostoevsky and says there was probably never a day that Dos-
toevskv did not think of Christ. Shortly after Hideo Kobavashi sns-
pended his study of Dostoevsky, he began work on the letters of Van
G o g h . ’ 1 T his painter, too, was someone who had left Christianity
behind and fixed his gaze solely on Christ. The seer of souls is not hal­
lucinating. What he sees is no illusion. It is certainly “ real” to him. “ Do
von know, I’ll tell you a secret: all this might not have been a dream at
all! For something happened here, something so horribly true that it
couldn’t have been dreamed up.” ’2 Even though others may ridicule
it as a phantasm, for the “ ridiculous m an” in Dostoevsky's “ Dream of
a Ridiculous M a n ” (1877), it feels more real to him than touching the
cup in front of him. T h e greatness of Dostoevsky is not that he “ saw”
something. It lies in the fact that he dedicated his life to try to make the
world his visions revealed to him a reality.

If asked to choose one distinctive chapter of Roshiateki ningen , I

would unhesitatingly cite “ Chapter 9: Tyutchev.” O f the ten studies of
authors in that book, this chapter is not only the most outstanding, no
one can fail to recognize it as a brilliant work by Toshihiko Izutsu on
the topic of Being. His writing style and his dazzling treatment of the
glory and tragedy of this poet, whose fate was to live in what Izutsu calls
the Real World, are, of course, particularly fine. But finer still is the
wavj Izutsu vividly* describes how' nineteenth-century• Russian literature
entered the metaphysical world, assigning a central place in his study
to this poet as a kind of watershed figure. When developing his views
on nineteenth-century Russian literature, it is unlikely that Izutsu ever
considered bypassing Tyutchev. He also discusses him in Roshici bun-
gaku , where space was limited.
The name of Tyutchev
v is not as familiar to us as that of Dostoevsky.
«
Russia, too, Izutsu writes, has long forgotten this poet, who “ deserves to
be called a genius.” ’ ’ A contemporary of Pushkin, Tyutchev was over fifty'
when he published his first collection of poetry. Bv that time Pushkin,
who died at the age of thirty-seven, w'as no longer alive. It was Nekrasov
who gave him his chance: Russia’s first revolutionary poet discovered
Russia’s first mvstie poet. There is a dimension in w'hieh the intellectual
distance between idealism and materialism ceases to be an issue —a truth
conveyed to us bv the many encounters that have occurred there. In the
history of the arts, sometimes events occur that cannot he fathomed bv
dogmas such as these. Merc/hkovskv devotes a work. Two Mysteries of
Russian Poetiy (1915), to the encounter between these two men.

For these poets and elairvovauts, who were obsessed bv strange

visions that were considered mad, siek illusions bv people for whom
the world of everyday affairs is the one and onlv “reality,” it was rather
the so-ealled “realitv” of ordinarv people that was the illusion, a world
of insubstantial appearances. At times, this phenomenal world mav
perhaps present a spectacle of ineffable beauty. But, in the hnal anal­
ysis, it is mcrclv a beautifullv painted curtain, a veil that conceals the
true realitv. If 1were to trv to compare it, 1 might even call it a smoke­
screen that Someone has suddenly east down from on high so as not
to reveal the all-too-awesome true form of the Real World direetlv to
fragile human eyes.’4
This is a passage from Izutsu’s study of Tvutchcv. Their agreement
with the following words of Dostoevsky is no accident. “ What the
majority calls fantastic and exceptional sometimes constitutes the
verv essence of the real.” ’’ “ I am onlv a realist in a higher sense, i.c., I
depict all the depths of the human soul.” ’6 The agreement lies in the
nature of the two writers’ existential experience rather than in how thev
express it. Tvutchcv led the wav, and Dostocvskv followed. Although
Dostocvskv revered Pushkin, in the predisposition of his soul, he was
closer to Tyutchev, Izutsu believes.
Izutsu w as one of the very first Japanese to discuss this poet scri-
ouslv. Since Izutsu, however, not manv studies have dealt with Tvu­
tchcv as a metaphvsical poet. For a full-scale analvsis bv a Japanese, we
would have to wait until Atsushi Sakaniwa’s work came out in 2007.’-
It is suggestive that, in addition to the relationship between Dostoevsky
and Tvutchcv, who met several times, Sakaniwa cites the influence
of Schclling on Tyutchev and deals with the “ World Soul,” the fun­
damental organizing principle of the world as a personal reality. “ For
Tvutchcv,” Izutsu w'rites, “ the primarv goal of poctrv [w'as| to grasp intu­
itively the basic essence of the universe, the deepest lcwel of being, and
to express his awareness of it symbolically through visual images.” ’6 On
the other hand, however, Tvutchev left statements rejecting his own
poetrv: As he savs in Silentium , “ a thought once uttered is untrue.” ’9
To trv to sav what cannot be said; to try to save those who cannot be
saved — this contradictor/* activityv was what Tvutchev
j
conducted in the
cosmic depths. Dostoevsky, who carried on his mission, would attempt
it in a more “ realistic” way in the “ depths of the human soul.”
T h e Tyutchev whom Izutsu discusses was a consummate poet of
“ night.” When Izutsu writes that the poet lived the night, what the
darkness of night means is not the absence of light but rather its ulti­
mate convergence. Even though darkness is reflected to human eves
as a lightless state, it is not the ease that there is no light. If there were
no light, there would be no darkness. To witness the instant when light
begins to shine upon the earth; to be there when the “ Being” who is
transcendently Absolute is truly in contact with “ beings” — that is illu-
minatio. That experience, which countless prophets, saints and mys­
tics have had, is not always a matter of being enveloped in a blaze of
dazzling light. “T he terrible instant of recognition! In that tragic, fate­
ful moment the poet witnesses at first hand the forbidden place that
human eyes are normally not allowed to see, the primal blackness of
the universe. He stands transfixed, seeing before his very eves ‘some­
thing’ that is the direct opposite o f ‘God,’ the absolutely irrational bed­
rock lurking in the deepest layers of all being.”40 In this experience
there is awe rather than terror, and, on the other hand, an “ unbearable
fascination” rather than jov.4'
When speaking about the true nature of the mystical experience,
Izutsu often uses the expression “ fascination.” Like a stranger luring
him away, it leads him to places far beyond his thoughts or expecta­
tions. It might be described as an invitation that is utterly impossible
to refuse. Perhaps it resembles the experience religious people have of
being “ called.”

This poet’s penetrating eve is like the spring sun melting a glaeier.
When he looks intently and focuses his gaze, the surface of the Real
World that until then had formed a hard, beautiful, crystalline face,
instantly begins to dissolve, and eventually, from the terrible fissures
that here and there open their gaping mouths, the dark abvss is
 exposed. The unbearable fascination of that uncanny instant when
he breaks the taboo and catches a brief glimpse of the mysteries of
the cosmic depths never ever revealed to the outside world! As if pos­
sessed, with thoughts that make his hair stand on end, the poet peers
in on the roiling inner depths of terror-filled blackness.42
It is not that the poet desires such an experience. It is an “ instant of
terror.” Vet “ whether he wills it or not, this glittering curtain, suddenly,
unexpectedly, glides slowly upward in front of him as lie looks on.”44
Undoubtedly this is a portrait of Tvutchev. But it may also have been a
portrait of Izutsu himself.

The Poet Who Sang of Life before Birth

Izutsu mav have regarded Dostoevsky with a respect bordering on awe,
but it seems to me he considered Lermontova fellow-countryman. That
means he felt a real affinity for him that went bevond personal prefer­
ences. In “ Chapter 6: Lermontov” of Roshiciteki ningen , Izutsu quietly
but firmly interweaves themes that Lermontov never for an instant set
aside during his lifetime: the recollection of heaven and the reality of
angels, in other words, bis views of heaven and heavenly beings.
As a rebel against the age in which he lived, Lermontov was a succes­
sor to Pushkin; as a seeker after holiness, he prepared the wav for Tolstoy
and Dostoevsky. He had already begun to write poetry bv the time lie
was seventeen. “Angel,” which he wrote at that time, is one of his finest
works and is known to have been particularly dear to the poet himself.
I Ierc I will cite one stanza, which Izutsu translated into Japanese.

The angel carried the unborn sonl

To a land of suffering and tears.
The words of the song the voung soul forgot,
Yet its melodv clearly recalled.44
The “ land of suffering and tears” is this life, the phenomenal world.
After being born on earth, “ the young soul forgot . . . the words of the
song . . . / Yet . . . clearly recalled” the melodv it had heard in the other
world. This statement is not metaphorical. In the ease of this poet, it
is a candid confession. “ I still remember hearing a certain song when
I was three years old, and being so moved that I burst into tears,’’ reads
a passage in Lermontov’s notes that Izntsn cites.4' T he “ song” was not
of this world. Lermontov did not believe it was a song of his birthplace,
where lie lived with his mother, who died when he was young. For him
it was a melody from the other world. T h e poet’s confession must be
taken literally. In the poems he wrote as an adult, however, he slums
societv and in violent language constantly spews out his feelings of
rage. His contemporaries treated him as a nuisance.
It is well known that Pushkin lost his life in a duel over his wife.
But the truth, savs Lermontov, is that it had been nothing less than a
publicly conducted assassination, the equivalent of an official silenc­
ing. When he died, the world fell silent as if it had forgotten his poems.
Those poems that had been so comforting, so encouraging, so sooth­
ing, were intentionallv forgotten. Pushkin’s poctrv did not simplv move
people’s hearts and minds. It awakened their souls and defined their
spirituality If Lermontov were to keep silent now, Pushkin’s verv exis­
tence might be denied by the authorities and be reduced to a mvth.
The death of a great poet announced the arrival of Lermontov. “ Death
of the Poet” (1837), Lerm ontov’s poem which asserted that Pushkin
did not die in a duel, he was murdered, was not published, but it was
copied faster than anv printing press and circulated throughout Russia.
How great was the impact of this one handwritten poem by a cavalry
officer can be seen by the fact that he was conscripted into the regular
armv and sent to the battlefield in the Caucasus. Lermontov suffered
the same end as his predecessor. He, too, died in a “ duel.” T h e local
priest refused to bury him; the owner of the house he was renting per­
formed an exorcism; Tsar Nicholas I said, “A dog’s death for a dog!”46
A poet who sang of the dark side of human beings and the absur­
dity of reality rather than salvation —that was Lermontov. But Izutsu's
interest docs not lie in “ what” Lermontov wrote. He deals with “ where”
the poet came from. “An exile aimlessly wandering the earth, longing
for his soul’s eternal homeland, his bodv writhing with impatience for
a land Fir, far away, a land of limpid light that surely exists somewhere
beyond the distant horizon” — that was Lerm on tov’s true nature as
Izntsn saw it.4" 'The statement that he came from “ bevond the distant
horizon” brings us back to a passage in Shinpi tetsugaku, which Izutsu
had called his own intellectual starting point.

From beyond a distant time thousands of years a20 , the voice of some
gigantie tiling eame into this breast, thunderously oyerpowering the
eirenmainbient noise. 111 is uncanny sound, whose reverberant eelio
almost deafens my ears, barclv even grazes the heartstrings of most
people’s breasts but seems to pass them idly by. They coolly appear
to take no notice of it as if they were utterly insensible to that sound.
But when 1receiyc this awful yoice wholeheartedly onto the strings of
my breast, my soul responds to and harmonizes with it with an almost
heart-breaking resonance.^
This is the 111-landscape ofToshihiko Izutsu the philosopher. 1 1 is phi­
losophy begins with this passage and always returns to it. Lermontov
was likely not the only one to have memories from bevond a distant
time and space. “ When I receive this awful voice wholeheartedly onto
the strings of my breast, my soul responds to and harmonizes with it
with an almost heart-breaking resonance.” Reading this, one cannot
help thinking that these were the recollections of Izutsu himself:

Because Roshia hungakv was meant to serve as teaching materials

for a correspondence course —campus publishing as it were —readers
other than the students in the course were naturally limited. Inevita­
bly there are only a few' references to this work. One of these is a very
interesting allusion to Roshia hungciku in an essay' by' Kazuo Miura (d.
1994) entitled “ Izutsu Toshihiko-sensei” (Professor Toshihiko Izutsu),
written at the time of Izutsu ’s death.49
In his student days Miura audited Izutsu’s lectures on Russian lit­
erature. He learned a great deal about the character and thought of the
Russian people and the distinctive features of the Russian language,
he said, but there was just one thing “ I couldn’t go along with no mat­
ter what” — Professor Izutsu’s “ tendency' to try' to explain things like the
world’s various cultural phenomena and the workings of people’s minds
in terms of differences in types of religious experience, a tendency' that
might be called overly idealized or even almost mystical.” Moreover,
when Miura read Roshia hungaku and frankly' told Izutsu his impressions
of the book, “ his face surprising!}' reddened, and in that distinctive tone
of voice of his,” lie said. “T h a t was a tiling of the past that I myself have
cast aside. I’m embarrassed even to think of it,” but if it wasn’t any good,
“ von should write a better one yourself.” 50 Certainly, what he had fin­
ished writing was already “ a thing of the past that he himself had east
aside,” vet the embarrassment its author felt bears no relation to the
value of the work itself. Izutsu may have regretted not having adequately
treated the topics in this book, but that “ embarrassment” was not the
onl}' thing he felt should be elear from the fact that he went on to write
Roshiateki ningen. Roshiciteki ningen was published in 1953, the vear
Stalin died. As he would sav vears later in the eolloquv with Shotaro
Yasuoka, his lectures on Russian literature came to an end at that time,
as “ a left-wing, socialist ideology was coming into vogue.” 51 It may well
be that, around the time of Roshia bungaku, Izutsu’s aims in lecturing
on what might be called a historv of Russian spirituality would not have
been readilv understood.
Among the works of Kazuo M iura’s early period was a translation
of Marx’s Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts (1844), translated in
1962.52 His last w ork, published posthumously in 1995, was a translation
of Hegel’s Phenomenology of Spirit (1807).’ ’ I have read praise for each
of these translations, w'hieh are highlv esteemed for their Japanese style.
T he author’s master}’ of logieal thinking is also full}- eonveved in the
short tribute to Izutsu. If wre see M iura’s words as a criticism of Tosbi-
hiko Izutsu from an ideological standpoint, we might be aceused of prej­
udice. Miura acknowledges that the mvstieal thought of Neoplatonism
found its way into Russia. In the same essay he shows a high regard for
Izutsu’s work on semantics, and his account of this subject is aeeurate. It
is clear that be also earefullv read Izutsu’s other w'ritings. His objections
lie elsew'here. It is unreasonable, Miura observes, to be indifferent to the
political problems that existed in Russia at the time and reduce them all
to mvstieal philosophy. What he also objected to in those days seems to
have been Izutsu’s treatment of Lermontov.
In the seetion on Lermontov in Roshia bungaku , Izutsu refers to
the poet Claudel’s experience of Rimbaud. This seetion was omitted in
Roshiateki ningen. T h e poet Paul Claudel w-as onee a thoroughgoing
materialist. What taught him that even matter eould not exist without
God was tl ic poetry of Rimbaud, for Claudel, it was literally a revelation.
Thereafter, he beeanie a devout believer. What is more, Claudel said that
his encounter with Rimbaud had been prepared on a different dimension,
that Rimbaud was his spiritual contemporary. Claudel could not free
himself from the “strangeness that such a thing as a spiritual veneration
might authoritatively exist, one effected on a spiritual level without any
temporal relationship, irrespective of generation as a time-based system.”54
The term “ generation” may draw' the reader into the temporal
dimension. Let s imagine it as a rectangular solid extending vertically.
Divide it horizontally at set intervals into ten equal parts. Regard the
height of the solid as a hundred years and its plane surface as the world.
The equally divided parts become decades, i.e. a “ generation.” Let’s
call this a “ latitudinal generation.” By contrast, take the same solid
but now' divide it lengtlnvisc from top to bottom into ten equal verti­
cal parts. Assume that people who live in each hundred-vear period
and are somehow connected to one another are contained along this
lengthw'ise axis. Let’s call this a “ longitudinal generation.”
What Izutsu is referring to in his discussion of Claudel and Rim­
baud is this longitudinal generation. There is no need to confine our­
selves to a hundred years. If, for example, w'c were to go baek to ancient
Greece, it would be possible to expand the lengthw'ise axis to 3000 years.
Izutsu would later describe his work as the “synchronic structuralization
of Oriental philosophy,” but it wnuld be fair to call it the philosophical
strueturalization of longitudinal generations instead. On such a grid,
Socrates, Plato, Confucius, Lao-tzu, the ancient Indian sages, Jew­
ish mystics, Islamic philosophers, Chinese Confucianists of the Sung
dynasty, Zen monks, Basho, Motoori Norinaga, Malarmc, Rilke and
Sarte would all live as “ contemporaries.” Just as there are “ days” in phys­
ical time, “ time” also exists on the axis of eternity. Ancient Creek made
a distinction between quantitative time and qualitative time —chronos
and kairos. The former is external to the w'orld; the latter is internal.
Augustine’s statement that a day can be measured by a clock, but time
is measured by the soul, probably refers to the same thing.
“Yes, Lermontov wras truly a solitary figure w'ho had no place
anywhere on this earth w'hcrc he belonged, who had no one any­
where in the w'idc w'orld wrho was close to him,” Izutsu savs in Roshia
himgaku W BeforeTis encounter with Rimbaud, Claudel might have
said the same thing. If Rimbaud was a person of Claudels “ time,” Izutsu
writes, Lermontov’s “ contemporary” would have been Baudelaire; in
/
“ L ’Etranger” (The Stranger), the poem at the beginning of Le Spleen
cle Paris (1869; Paris Spleen), he would have heard the voice of someone
else homesick for the other world. Cited below is Baudelaire’s poem,
which Izutsu translated into Japanese for Roshia bungaku but which was
removed when the work was published as Roshiateki ningen.

—Oui aimes-tu le mieux, homme enigmatique, dis? ton pere, ta

mere, ta soeur 011 ton frere?
—Je n’ai ni pere, ni mere, ni soeur, ni frere.
—Tes amis?
—Vous vous servez la d’une parole dont le sens m’est reste jusqu a ee
jour inconnu.
—Ta pa trie?
—j ’ignore sous quelle latitude elle est situee.

—Eh! qifaimes-tu done, extraordinaire ctranger?

—J’aime les images . . . les images qui passent . . . la-bas. . . la-bas . . .
les merveilleux images!

—Whom do you love best? do tell, von enigma: vour father? vour
mother, sister, brother?
—I have no father, no mother, neither sister nor brother.
—Your friends?
—That is a word I’ve never understood.
—Your country?
—I don’t know' at w'hat latitude to look tor it.

—Well then, you puzzling stranger, what do vou love?

—I love clouds . . . clouds that go bv . . . out there . . . over there . . .
marvelous clouds!’6
Lermontov has a poem called “T u c h i” (1840; Clouds) that carries a sim­
ilar resonance.” What the two poets are speaking about in the guise of
clouds is the gatewav to the other world. Just as Lermontov sang of the
“Angel,” the voice in Baudelaire’s “ L’Albatros” and “ Corrcspondanccs”
(1857), t°°> overflows with weariness for this life and nostalgia for a pre­
vious existence. Perhaps the wings of Lermontovs angel were visible to
Baudelaire when he wrote of the albatross, “ Kxilc sur le sol an milieu
des huces, / Ses ailes de gcant l’empechent de marcher” (But on the
ground, amid the hooting crowds, / 1 Ie cannot walk, his wings are in the
wav).ss Those wings, indispensable in heaven, arc not only useless in the
earthly world, he laments; the}' simply become a nuisance. In Izntsu’s
view, Lermontov was “ a stranger who had stumbled into this world bv
some mistake or through some trick of malevolent fate, a wandering
wavfarer who had no home anvwhere on earth.” S9 The same could prob-
ablv also be said of “ the stranger” in Baudelaire’s poem cited above.
lzutsu takes note of the fact that the two poets both had recollec­
tions of a previous existence. But, more than that, he never loses sight
of the Lite of those who, having been born with such “ recollections,”
speak of the rcalitv of the other world as if somehow driven to do so.
Pushkin had alreadv begun to write poetrv in Trench when he was
eleven vears old. In the ease of Rimbaud, not onlv did the writing of
poetry begin in his teens, for all intents and purposes, it ended there as
well. As was mentioned earlier, Lermontov, too, was in his mid-teens
when he began to write works that deserve to be called poetrv. T he
reason these men could not help but write poetry was that thev never
stopped thinking of “ home.” This was particularly true of Lermontov.
Tor him a poem was a praver that awakened the feelings he had had in
his life before birth.
“ Previous incarnation” is a term associated with the transmigration
of souls and indicates the cycle of death and rebirth in the framework
of this world and the present life. But “ previous existence” refers to a
realm where we lived before being born. This other world is the world
of the Intellect in Shinpi tetsugaku, what Rilke calls Realitdt, Plato the
world of Ideas, Swedenborg heaven.

He [Lermontov] was born into this world as an obvious misfit, car­

rying with him an image of eternal bcautv. A person with a talent
for painting and an extraordinary musical genius, he symbolically
depicted his vision of this eternal beaut) as the sweet strains of a song
 lie had heard in a previous existence, before he had been born in this
world.6° •-

And yet sometimes the words of this poet would also become the
words of a curse, railing at the fact that what he longed for could never
be found in this life. Nineteenth-centurv Russian statesmen heard only
these outcries and drove Lermontov to his death. “ O n e ’s impression
of Lermontov is not that of a man, but that of a demon,” 61 Izutsu savs.
“ Undoubtedly, Lermontov was a man possessed. But instead of being
a man possessed bv the Devil,” he goes on to sav, “ he is a demon him­
self.”62 “ D e m o n ” certainly conjures up a sense of the demonic, but it is
not satanie. T he public made no attempt to understand this fundamen­
tal difference. And vet sometimes a hob thing will appear with a deaf­
ening roar that shakes the very foundations of Being and stunningly
awes people into submission. There is a work bv Lermontov entitled
the “ Demon King” (published posthumouslv in 1842). T he title char­
acter is not a being who seeks evil. In Izutsu’s translation, the “ Demon
K in g” confesses: “1 want to reconcile with heaven. I want to love. I
want to prav. I want to believe in goodness” (“ Demon King” X)/’’
When Masami Ichijo’s translations of Lermontovs “ Mtsviri” (1840;
The Novice) and “ D em on ” were published in the lwanami Bunko scries
(1951), a scholar of Russian literature, Yoshitaro Yokcmura, wrote the
introduction.64 Like Lermontov, Yokemura, too, believed in a “ countrv”
that was still an unrealized dream. In his ease, however, it was not some­
thing he was willing to wait for until it appeared; it was something real
that lie felt he had to play his part and help bring it about.

The Eternal Idea

Yoshitaro Yokcmura (1897-1975) began a lecture on Russian literature
in 1947 by speaking about Dostoevsky, “ When I went to the Soviet
Union about ten years ago, experts didn’t much recommend that read­
ers read Dostocvskv. ”6s There is no writer for whom the range of praise
and censure is as striking as it is in the ease of Dostocvskv. Some detect
a kind of genius in his mystical and religious views and praise him as
a prophet, an interpreter of the other world, but Yokcmura did not
subscribe to sucb view's. Why not? Because “ they cannot become the
flesh and blood of those who are advancing along the road to a dem­
ocratic revolution.” Indeed, studies of this sort of idealistic Dostoevsky
arc an obstacle to anyone “ moving forward on the proper course of
development” and must be rejected.66
The quote may be arbitrary, but I do not think it distorts its author’s
intentions. Readers of Yokemura’s entire oeuvre will likely find state­
ments even more scathing than this. Such oversimplified, leftwing
views of Dostoevsky that make a dichotomy between good and ewil
would probably have few subscribers today. And vet, this was the per­
son who introduced Toshihiko Izutsu to Russian literature. Yokemura’s
influence on Izutsu was by no means less than people like Mcrczh-
kovsky, Bcrdvaev and Solovyov, who appear in Roshiateki ningen and
deserve to be called Dostoevsky's successors. A glance at the words
below suggests that Yokemura wras not someone who fits the label of a
stereotypical leftwing writer.

At the end of “Higuchi Ichiyo,” a movie 1 saw rcccntlv, there was a

reading from her diarv —“I am a child of the god of poetrv, born to
comfort the human world in its suffering and despair. . . . As long as
this vessel does not break and spill mv blood, 1shall leave this beauty
behind, and so long as this world does not cease to be, mv poems
shall become the life of the people.” A conscience and a sense of
social responsibility main times greater than that of Ichiyo’s must, I
believe, be demanded of writers and critics in the politicallv aware
times of todav.6
“ I am a child of the god of poetrv, born to comfort the human w’orld in
its suffering and despair” —this passage recalls the cry of Lermontov we
saw earlier. Yokemura never loses sight of these w’ords. In the latc-ninc-
tccnth-centurv woman poet and novelist, Higuchi Ichivo, he sees the
face of a saint.
The number of people wrho have ever beard of Yoshitaro Yokemura
is no doubt diminishing. There have been reports that a search is under
wrav to find the as-vet-unknown bolder of copyright to his works. I bis
student of Russian literature believed in the democratic revolution
expounded by Marx and Lenin. Throughout his whole life lie never
abandoned the conviction that art had an indispensable role to play
in this process. That explains-why, as the ideology he believed in has
waned, his translations and original writings have triekled off, as it
were, and disappeared, and the number of people who comment on
him has also declined.
After graduation from the Tokyo School of Foreign Languages
(now Tokyo University of Foreign Studies) and a stint in the Investi­
gation Bureau of the Bank of Japan, Yokemura worked for the Russian
Embassy in Japan and became an assistant professor at his alma mater
and a lecturer at Wascda University. For two years beginning in 1935,
he studied in the Soviet Union. What sort of patronage Yokemura may
have had at that time is unknown. The fact that he had been employed
by the Russian Embassy, albeit in Japan, may have worked to his
advantage. But even if that were the case, it can readily he conjectured
that there were one or two obstacles he would have had to overcome.
Although l used the term “study,” the situation in the Soviet Union in
those days was completely different than it would he for a university
professor going to study Russian literature there todav. It is not hard to
imagine that it would have required some determination. Yokemura
returned to Japan in 1938, the year in which the actress Yoshiko Okada
(1902-1992) and Ryokichi Sugimoto defected to the Soviet Union. As
more information has beeome publicly available, we now know' that
when Sugimoto erossed into the Soviet Union, he was arrested and
executed on suspicion of being a spy.
“ Being a leftist, [Yokemura] seems to have been regarded bv the
militarists with extreme disfavor.”68 As Izutsu saws, Yokemura was driven
out of the Tokyo School of Foreign Languages in 1940 because of his
political beliefs and was detained in 1945 for being in contravention
of the Public Security Preservation Law. After the war, he beeame a
member of the Communist Party in 1946 and the following vear stood
for election to the House of Councillors. When a Russian language
sehool, the Soviet Academy (now the Russian Aeadem v of Tokvo),
opened in 1954, he beeame its first principal.
Shortly after entering Keio University, Izutsu also began attend­
ing night sehool at the Tokvo Sehool of Foreign Languages with the
aim of learning Russian. All the classes were “ like eating sand; l almost
wondered whether Russian could possibly he such a boring language.”^
There was one exception: Yoshitaro Yokcinura. The view that what
Izutsu learned from Yokemura was the Russian language not Russian
literature is refuted bv his own testimony. Izutsu talked about Yokemura
in what might be called the closing years of his life. In his colloquy with
Shotaro Yasuoka, lie saws, “When one studies with someone who has the
Russian temperament in his own bodv, all of a sudden Russian becomes
understandable. Simply put, lie himself was immersed in Russia. The
spirit of the Russian language was alive in that man. It was trulv marvel­
ous.”"0 The language in the cssav “ Slidshi o motomete” (1980; In search
of the right teacher) is even more passionate. Kven though fiftv vears
had passed, Izutsu’s w'ords arc strikingly vivid when he speaks of meeting
Yokemura. The “ lie,” of course, is Yokemura.

The unfathomable depths of the Russian soul, which 1 later came to

understand as “the Russian eliaos,” somehow pulsed through his very
being, and this moved me tremendously. I le, too, was someone who
lived bis scholarship existentially. 1
Nihilism and atheism fostered in political and religious confusion; souls
in search of salvation and the Absolute in a godless place; the mysticism
of night; a unique faith cultivated bv a love of Christ that bordered on
madness —this for Izutsu was the “ Russian eliaos,” Russian spiritual­
ity that eould not rest content with any religion or ideology. Toshihiko
Izutsu learned how to catch a glimpse of the innermost recesses of the
Russian soul from the leftwing w riter Yoshitaro Yokemura.
The expression “ Me, too, was someone who lived . . . existentially”
can be considered the highest praise Toshihiko Izutsu eould give.
Among the other people of w'hom lie spoke in similar terms, Louis Mas-
signon, who studied Hallaj, comes to mind, as docs Mircca Lliadc, the
historian of religion. The former determined Izutsu’s attitude toward
scholarship; the latter lie regarded as a guide pioneering the wav for
thinkers in search of truth. Although Islamic mysticism and the history
of religion occupy different realms, these two men were both first-rate
scholars w’lio were the leading lights of their time in the twentieth cen­
tury. Among Japanese, Izutsu used the expression for the philosopher
Keiji Nishitani. “ Kxistential” in this context does not simply imply
outstanding. And if is utterly different from being correct. It is nothing
less than staking one’s whole-self on one’s mission in life. But before
anvonc can stake their life, they first have to know w hat state their entire
hod\r and spirit arc in. It is not possible to risk something one does not
truly know’. A scholar know's this through his/her scholarship; a painter
acquires mastery bv painting, a w’riter bv w'riting. For a religious person,
it is prayer; for the sick, the role is just to survive in that condition. For
a laborer it is work. Those w ho are able to master their roles completely
Izutsu calls “ existential.’’
And vet, it is not easy to detect Yoshitaro Yokemura’s influence in
Roshiciteki ningen. It is clear from that w'ork that Izutsu had a fellow­
feeling for thinkers like Solovyov, Berdvaev and Merezhkovskv who fol­
lowed in Dostoevsky’s footsteps. Dostoevsky’s basic thesis that “ beauty is
a struggle between light and darkness, the congruence of contradictory
polar opposites,” Izutsu w'rites, can he said to have been inherited from
Tyutchev and flow's through Dostoevsky into Solovvov.-2 But Yoshitaro
Yokemura denounced these men for misrepresenting Dostoevsky and
qualitatively changing Russian literature for the worse. Even though
these three m en ’s attitude toward life mav have been sincere, he criti­
cized their idea of ascribing a mvstic origin to existence on the grounds
that it distorted Dostoevsky’s truth, perverted his legacy and established
a tradition that wras detrimental to Russia. Izutsu and Yokemura do not
readily agree. Whether Yokemura read Roshiciteki ningen is not known;
since he died in 1975, there is every possibility- that he did. But even if
he did, it is unlikely that he w'ould have unreservedly approved.
Solovvov wras the model for Ivan and Alovsha in Brothers Karama­
zov (1880), and the w'ords of Ambrosius, whom Dostoevsky met at the
Optina Monaster}’, which he visited with Solovyov, were passed on to
us through the character of Father Zosima. Yokemura frequent]}' dis­
cussed Dostoevsky and often referred to Solovvov. But lie called this
story a total “ fallacy.”
Yokemura sums up Solovvov’s philosophy as follows: “ T h e ideal
w'orld is the world of God, and the actual w'orld is the world on earth.
Human beings plav the role of intermediaries between these two
worlds. Through human intervention, the kingdom of God will he
established on earth.” In order to bring this about, first, “ we must rclv

%
on G o d ” ; moreover, its attainment “ can only be achieved bv a the­
ocracy centered on the Church |the reunified Fastcrn and Western
churches).”7’ This is only an outline so there is no denying it is highly
abridged. But it does not seem to be the account of a biased critic.
Not only are there no mistakes, it faithfully conveys Solovyov’s ideas.
For there to be true peace, lie says, human beings must regain their
spirituality as the children of God, put an end to the schism in the
Church that has for so main7 years served as the matrix of wars and
confusion, and usher in the w ork of God — Solovyov calls this eternal
idea “ Sophia.” But these words arc all nothing more than a mystic’s
daydream, Yokemura complains; in reality, the world is in such dire
straits that it can ill afford to he swaved bv empty fantasies.
There is a work bv Solovyov entitled Beauty in Nature: The Gen­
eral Significance of the Arts (1889), w'hich has been translated bv Richio
Takamura. 4 The translation wtis published in 1928, just around the
time that Solovvov’s w'orks were first being seriously introduced into
Japan. T h e translator’s commentary on Solovvov’s aesthetics that
accompanied it is accurate even by today’s standards, w'ritcs the fore­
most Japanese expert on Solovvov’s studies, Michio Mikoshiba. The
writing style conveys to us that the translation was written with an
underlying sympathy and enthusiasm for Solovyov and that the transla­
tor was keeping his overflowing emotions in check. So close to the orig­
inal author docs the translator get that, if he had not forced himself to
he patient and rational, we w'ould not know7w'hether the words the pen
w'eaves are Solovyov’s or the translator’s. At the beginning of “ Beaut}'
in Nature,” the lecture on which this hook w7as based, Solovvov quotes
Dostoevskv’s words, “ Beauty will save the world.”"5 In the same work
several poems by Tyutchev are cited; the work itself is almost like a
commentary on poetry.
Richio Takamura is another name for Yoshitaro Yokemura, though
he subsequently stopped using it. When later asked by a publisher for
permission to reprint his translation of Solovyov, he refused saying
that he no longer believed those ideas. And vet the fact remains that
Yokemura w7as the Japanese who was most acutely sensitive to the spir­
itual pilgrimage of Tyutchev, Dostoevsky and Solovyov, lzutsu most
likclv read this translation. Not only that, Izutsu’s stud}7of Tyutchev is
in such close accord with it that it seems likely this book was the one b\
which Izutsu first came to know Tyutchev.
At the beginning of his literary career, Yokemura saw' a ray of light
that led him to Solo\wov’s thought, but at a certain point he bade fare­
well to this thinker. “ Knowing” the truth was no longer his goal in life.
He came to want not just to know the truth but to make it a reality. The
person who drew' Yokemura away from Solovyov’s metaphysical w orld
and brought him back to the phenomenal w’orld was Belinsky. Russian
intellectuals, be they religious or socialist, seek “ a living truth by which,
if only it existed, all problems w ould be completely solved, and human
life w'ould immediately become just and righteous,” and they place their
trust in those w'ho profess such a truth. Belinsky was “ the earliest and
the most representative expression of this fundamentally Russian intel­
lectual tendency.” His spiritual journey, w'hich “ led him successively
to” Sehelling, Fichte, Hegel, Feuerbach and then to socialism, w'as not
a mere repetition of ideological conversions, Izutsu savs. “ It w'as noth­
ing less than an itinerary in pursuit of an all-eneompassing truth.”’'6
This statement is true not only of Belinsky; it is applicable to Yoshitaro
Yokemura as well.
An anthology of Belinsky’s Russian literary criticism w'as translated
byj Yoshitaro Yokemura in a two-volume edition for the Kvanami Bunko
series.” The commentary that accompanies it is in the voice of a story­
teller passing down an oral tradition. For Yokemura, Belinsky can fairly
be said to have determined the canon of nineteenth-century Russian
literature, and one has the feeling that Yokemura considered it his
mission to make this critic live on forever. Yokemura translated many
things, but such is the passion that emanates from this wnrk one almost
feels that, even if most of them as well as his original w'ritings wrere to
be lost, he wouldn’t care as long as these two volumes survived along
w'ith their accom panying short biograph}' of Belinsky and detailed
commentary. Yokemura when discussing Belinsky transcends the con­
fines of time and space and seems to be fix ing in nineteenth-centurv
Russia. His stud}’ of Belinsky poses questions to the reader that seem
fresh even now' despite the break-up of the Soviet Union, the collapse
of the Communist Part}' and the other enormous changes that Russian
communism has undergone. What full}’ justifies reading Yokemura
todav is that he w rites in a way that goes beyond mere historiea! lime. It
is unlikely that Japan will ever produce anyone who can surpass Yoshi-
taro Yokcmura in the depth of his personal interest in Belinsky.
"Fake the following passages in Yokemura’s brief life of Belinsky.
“The uniyersc, the whole world, is ‘the breath of a single idee' in its
countless manifestations. . . . It is the mission of people, citizens, as
well as the human race, to manifest in themselves this single idee
and its human values.” And, “ art is the expression of the universes
yast single idee in its infinitely diverse phenomena.” ~s The first sen­
tence is Yokemura’s; the second are the words of Belinsky as quoted by
Yokcmura. The reason the difference between the two is so nebulous
is that Yokcmura was determined to act as Belinsky’s spokesperson. It is
also astonishing that Yokemura’s language is virtually identical to the
words with which Solovyov expresses his thoughts. Not only that, thev
are also reminiscent of what the Islamic mystic philosopher Ibn ‘Arab!
said about the unit}' of existence.
Belinsky, who has carved out a place in history for himself as the
person who laid the cornerstone of revolutionary thought, would of
course later reject the theory of Ideas. But he never lost sight of the
“ single idee" within it as the basis of salvation. People are capable of
shedding one ideology after another. But they cannot free themseKes
from what truly motivates them, that which deserves to be called their
deepest desire. What Toshiko Izutsu describes as Belinsky's “ pursuit of
an all-encompassing truth” is not a different activity from this. What a
person desires is not something that thev can freely determine. It grabs
hold of them. An earnest desire is not egotistical or self-interested. Per­
haps it would be more accurate to call it a meaningful existence, the
fundamental meaning in the life that is granted to a person.
Belinsky, who read Dostoevsky's Poor Folk (1846), immediately
appreciated the new writer’s genius and made him widely known to
the w'orld. But Belinsky did not feel the same wav about The Double ,
which came out next. Although he acknowledged the incomparable
“ independence” of Dostoevsky’s genius when it probed deeply into the
w'orld around us, the w'orks in which Dostoevsky made clear his mys­
tical view's were not to his liking. Belinsky, who died in 184.8, did not,
of course, know' Crime and Punishment (1866) or the w'orks that came
after it. Yokemura’s opinion of Dostoevsky was inherited from Belinsky.
Although Yokemura’s stndv of Dostoevsky seems to be discussing this
writer, it was, in fact, a practical, pragmatic extension of the literature
that Belinsky regarded as ideal. Yokemura’s views cited below reveal his
own attitude toward revolution rather than that of Dostoevskv.

Although Dostoevskv saw these revolutionary, democratic movements

of the sixties and seventies with his own eves, lie did not proceed in
the direction of the people. Because he was only thinking about the
suffering in his own head, because he tried to solve everything solip-
sistieallv, lie was unable to find anv real wav out. In the forties, at
least half of him was on the side of the revolution, but from the sixties
on, one could say lie had lost faith in revolution. . . . On the one
hand, to cease believing in the revolution, on the other, to maintain
the ideals of equality and harmony —that is the contradiction. y
As can be understood from the criticism implied in the words “ to
cease believing in the revolution,” for Yokemura the revolution was
something “ to believe in,” it w as a “ faith” worth dedicating himself to.
When Izutsu was discussing the “ rcligiositv” of Russian communism
in Roshiateki ningen , it is hard to imagine lie didn’t have Yokemura in
mind. It is not the dogma of communism that was religious. What was
“ religious” was the instinctive idea that the masses would transcend the
individual and seek to bring about truth, justice and love in their ow n
communities and in the w'orld. As Izutsu says, “ In Russia, ‘G o d ’ is not
necessarilv limited to the God of the Bible.”So
 A Contemporary and the
Biography of the Prophet

Religious Philosopher Yoshinori Moroi

Tenri-kvo and Tenri University played in postwar

T
he r o l e t h a t

Japanese studies of Islam has not, I believe, been much diseussed

before now. Worth noting first is its library acquisitions policy and then
the number of distinguished scholars the university has produced. The
Islam-related materials amassed by Shumei Okawa at the Past Asian
Economic Research Bureau were confiscated by the US Army after the
war, and their whereabouts arc now' unknown. Bvj contrast, the Tenri
Central Library collected important works related to Islam in the post­
war period. The person who strongly urged the second Shinbashira,
Shozen Nakayama (1905-1967), to do so was Yoshinori Moroi (1915­
1961). Nakavama had the utmost confidence in Moroi, w'ho wras not
only a Tenri-kvo theologian but also held important leadership posi­
tions as a professor at Tenri University and in organizations related to
Tenrikvology.
Tenrikvologv, the theology of Tenri-kvo , the Religion of the Divine
Wisdom, begins with Yoshinori Moroi. For this monotheistic new reli­
gion, which, like Islam itself, traces its origins to divine revelations
imparted to its founder, Miki Nakayama (179(8-18(87), Moroi attempted
to construct both a theology and a dogmatic theology that would rival
those of the Semitic world religions of Judaism, Christianity and Islam.

]()]
Because such a task resembles building a temple, it was not something
that could be completed by Moroi alone. But the core concepts for
such a project arc already evident in bis “Tenri-kyo shingaku josho”
(Introduction to Tenri-kvo theology) and “Tenri-kyo kyogigaku shiron"
(A preliminary essay on Tenri-kyo dogmatic theology). 1 Allud mg to
Thomas Aquinas, Yoshinori Moroi says that, while theology had cer­
tainly developed under Christianity, Christians have no monopoly on
it. Theology “ is not the useless theorizing of people with too much time
on their hands, nor is it an idle response to vain and empty speculations.
People inside the faith arc naturally spurred on to take this step bv the
immediate and urgent realities of life pressing in on them.”2 Theology
is not an intellectual attempt to understand God. T h e soul desires it.
It is nothing less, he says, than an act of faith on which one must stake
one’s whole life.
A distinction between theology and philosophy can be made on
conceptual grounds, since theology seeks its origins in reyelation and
deals with the Absolute whereas philosophy docs not presuppose that
the Absolute exists. And yet what really exists is a blending of the two,
as in the ease of Thomism, w here theology and philosophy arc inextri­
cably intertwined. That is the reason why Islamic philosophers always
praise Allah before they begin to speak. “ Greek philosophy is a pure
and unalloyed monotheism in religious terms. But, in fact, when it
ceases to be a religion, it is nothing more than philosophy. It is philoso­
phy, but turn it the other way around in religious terms, and it is imme­
diately an absolute monotheism.” " Izutsu’s words in “ Shinpishugi no
crosuteki keitai: Sei Berunaru-ron” (1951; T he mysticism of St Bernard)
certainly arc consonant with the historical facts. Proclus, wTo followed
in Plotinus’ footsteps, w'rotc Platonic Theology.
T h e wTitings of Christians like Augustine and Thom as Aquinas,
Muslims like Avicenna (Ibn Slna), Avcrrocs (Ibn Rushd) and Ibn 'Arab!,
Jew's like Gabirol and Maimonides, and Buddhists like Nagarjuna and
Asvaghosa, arc revered as classic texts in their respective religious cir­
cles, but tbeir readers arc uot limited to believers nor do those who study
them feel under pressure to convert to the faith. They arc the legacy of
the human race, capable of being read as philosophy bv everyone — as
Toshihiko Izutsn, in fact, did. T h e same can also be said about sacred
lexis. If nonbelievers read them and are unable to eateli a glimpse of the
truth, sueli works do not deserve to be ealled saered texts. Indeed, isn’t it
prceisclv for the salvation of those who do not vet believe that anv reli­
gion worthv ot its name exists? There is no need to go all the wav baek
to Paul to see that Christianityj has been sustained by. its eonverts: Before
turning to Christianity, Augustine renouneed Maniehaeism, Francis of
Assisi a life of debauchery, Claudel materialism, Jacques Maritain mod­
ern rationalism. In his youth, the Tibetan Buddhist saint, Milarcpa, had
killed people.
The achievements of Yoshinori Moroi are not limited to Tcnri-
kvologv. As a historian of religions, lie included in his purview not
only the world religions but even shamanism, while, in philosophy,
his range extended from Greece, of course, and ancient India to mod­
ern thought. I Ie was a first-rate religious philosopher who could hold
forth on these subjects with a personal passion. The topics to which
he devoted most of his intellectual energies were the religious act of
“ faith,” and mysticism as the apogee of the religious experience. But he
was also, one realizes when reading the tributes written after his death,
someone who thoroughly put his beliefs into practice as an educator,
preacher and administrator. This fact must not be overlooked. Instead
of simply adding another essay to his resume, he preferred to give his
ideas concrete expression, even if it meant that those ideas would be
left only partially complete.
T h e reason we have forgotten Moroi today is that he died pre­
maturely. Although he attracted attention in religious studies circles
through the numerous works he published and through his election
at age thirty-six as a director of the Japanese Association for Religious
Studies, he succumbed to illness and at forty-six made his departure to
the other world. The day before he died, he received his Doctor of Lit­
erature degree from the University of Tokyo, seven and a half years after
he had submitted his dissertation. Apart from the books brought out
during his lifetime by the Tenri-kyo publishing department, as a histo­
rian of religion he left this world behind without knowing what woidd
become of his remaining works in the history of religion. His doctoral
dissertation, Shukyo shinpishugi hassei no kenkyu: toku ni Semu-kei
choetsushinkyo o chushin to suru shfikyogakuteki kosatsu (1966; A study

HR
of the development of religious mysticism: A religious-studies perspec­
tive centering on Semitic monotheism), was published five years after
his death by the Tenri University publishing department;4 what might
be called his unfinished magnum opus, Shukyoteki shutciisei no ronri
(1991; H i e logic of religious identity), was revised bv Yoshitsugu Sawai
(1951- ) and other members of a younger generation of scholars and
published thirty' years after his death.5 If he is remembered as a scholar,
Yoshinori Moroi, the religious philosopher, the original thinker, is for­
gotten today. Me was born on 30 March 1915; doshihiko lzutsu was born
on 4 May the year before, d hey were, it is fair to say, contemporaries.
I shall never forget the day when, quite bv accident, I spotted a
copy of M oroi’s study of the development of religious mysticism in
a second-hand bookstore; I bad never even heard of M oroi’s name
before. In this octavo volume, nearly 1,000 pages long, were systemat­
ically drawn up themes that doshihiko lzutsu had, or might well have,
dealt with. Let me cite a few examples from the table of contents.

Part 1: The basic elements of religious mysticism

Part 3: ddie development of mysticism in early Islam and the
circumstances surrounding it
Chapter 1: dTe blossoming and coming to fruition of Islamic
mysticism wi th al-Hallaj as its turning point
Chapter 2: The unique experiences and ideas in Idallaj mysticism
Chapter 3: dTe question of the Prophet Muhammad’s mystical
experience
Chapter 4: dTe transccndentalizing of Muhammad’s
ur-experience in early Islam and its significance
Part 4: dTe development of mysticism in primitive Christianity and
our information about it
Chapter 1: dTe distinctive confessions of the Apostle Paul as
precedents for mysticism in Christianity and their
main points
Chapter 2: Research into the records of mystical experiences at
the time of Paul’s conversion
Chapter 3: dTe semantic structure of the mystical experience in
Paul’s conversion
 While clearly revealing their own distinctive characteristics, the
works of these two men complement each other, almost as though
there had been a profound connection between them. Shamanism,
mvsticism, Hallaj, Muhammad, the Koran, Paul —there is not a single
one of these topics in which Izutsu did not show enormous interest.
Paul is no exception. It had been Izutsu’s plan for the sequel to Shinpi
tetsugaku (1949; Philosophy of mvsticism), the “ I lebrew part,” to end
with a studv of Paul.
In his stud}' of the development of religious mvsticism, Moroi deals
first with the differences between shamanism and what he calls “ reli­
gious mvsticism.” In other words, it is a study of the subject in mystical
thought; it deals with the question of who is the true protagonist of
the mvstical experience, fo r Moroi, mvsticism is not a concept that
corresponds to a specific idcologv; it is a word that denotes an exis­
tential attitude, a way of life. Next, lie moves on to l.lallaj, the medie­
val Islamic mystic whom Louis Massignon brought back to life in the
modern world. We saw' earlier how' Massignon’s attitude toward schol­
arship had had a decisive influence on Izutsu. l.lallaj, who fully lived
the via mystica, one day began to say that the one speaking through
his mouth w'as not himself but God, and ultimately w'ent so far as to
declare, “Anc/7 Haqq" — I am the Truth/God. Muhammad had said the
same thing, Moroi savs, and the record of that experience is the Koran.
In the descent of the divine word — in other w'ords, in the spirituality
of Hallaj in the grips of a revelation —Moroi saw a revival of M uham ­
mad. Hallaj did not revive the spirituality' of Muhammad bv studving
the Koran; lie brought it about through his own experience. It was, in
fact, an astonishing thing, Moroi w'rites, but therein lav l.lallaj s tragedv.
Bv Hallaj’s time, there was no longer anyone who eoidd call to mind
Muhammad’s vivid experience of divine revelation. As a result, l.lallajj
w'as branded a blasphemer and ended his life on the scaffold.
l.lallaj, Muhammad’s experiences of revelation, the events leading
ii]) to the Koran —Moroi recounts them all as though going backward
in time. He turns the clock back even further and goes on to discuss
the prc-Islamic period and the mysticism of Paul. He w'ould later seek
out even older voices, although not in the work on the development
of religious mvsticism, and w'ritc about the Jew'ish prophets. The fact
that he deals with these topics retrospectively, by moving further and
further back into time, may perhaps be a matter of scholarly method,
but, beyond that, it likely alscHias a direct bearing on what, for Moroi,
was the existential question. In it lies the basic problem of how he
himself, living in the modern era far removed from Hallaj, can also be
connected to tbe times when prophets appeared, and to the ultimate
Source of their propheev.
It was the Roman Catholic priest Yfiji Inouc (1927— ), who called
the prosclytizcr Paul “ the man who carried Christ.”6 T hough in dif­
ferent forms, Hallaj and Muhammad, too, carried God and dedicated
their entire lives to proselvtizing. Not all of them were thinkers, vet their
“ thought” lived after them. Perhaps that is the reason we call people
who liv e their lives in this way apostles. Recall Kierkegaard’s definition
of the difference between a genius and an apostle: What a genius dis­
cusses, an apostle lives. Remarking on the theme of Mcihometto, his
biographv of the Prophet, Izutsu writes that the hook is “ about the sub­
ject of possession that forms the core of the Semitic prophetic phenom­
enon and about the structure of the descent of the divine word (what
is called ‘revelation’), the unique verbal phenomenon that takes place
within it as the topos for it.”- T he Hallaj he discusses was also an Islamic
saint who revived the spiritualitv of Muhammad as well as a mvstic who
prepared the wav for Ibn ‘Arab!.
Japan has been unable to produce anyone since Moroi and Izutsu
who has not only been deeplv moved by Hallaj but able to add fresh
insights about him. T he two men describe the true nature of Hallaj’s
antecedent by the word “ unique,” but the manner in which thev dis­
cuss Muhammad is also unique. They perceive Muhammad not as the
founder of a religious sect or a prophet, but as a mvstic of a higher order.
I have said it before, but when Toshihiko Izutsu used the word
“ mvstic,” he endowed it with his own personal meaning. Recluses w ho
spend all their time in prayer and contemplation; ascetics who sub­
ject their bodies to religious austerities; visionaries and those who lose
themselves in ecstasy —such people he does not call “ mvsties.” Mvsties
earnestly desire the annihilation of self. That is because their ultimate
aim is to become the pathway through wTich the Absolute manifests
itself. T h ev hate inflated ideas and do not limit themselves to being
contemplative ascetics, for thev believe that their “sacred duty” is not
just to reflect upon the truth hut to put it into practice. Since mystics
reveal themselves through their wav ot life, their occupation or social
status is irrelevant. Moreover, they have no direct relation to any reli­
gion or ideology. Religious figures are not necessarily mystics, nor does
being a materialist prevent someone from being a mystic as w ell.
It was mentioned earlier that most of the Greek and Islamic sages
who influenced Toshihiko Izntsn were thinkers, hut they were also peo­
ple who put their precepts into practice, activists in various spheres.
Given Izutsu’s definition of mystics, far from being surprising, it seems
almost inevitable that Dante, Bernard, Goethe, Humboldt, Glau-
dcl and the other religious leaders, artists and scholars whom Izutsu
admired were all, on the other hand, also outstanding statesmen.

There is no evidence that these two contemporaries, who were so

close in what might he called their commonality ot interests, read each
other’s works. It is inconceivable that Moroi was unaware of Arabia
shisoshi (1941; History of Arabic thought) and Arabia tetsagaku (1948;
Arabic philosophy), the first studies of Islamic thought bv a Japanese
writer. Izutsu’s translation of the Koran was published in three volumes
between 195731x11958; it is unlikely that Yoshinori Moroi took no notice
of the first full-scale Japanese translation of that work from the original
Arabic. Izutsu had never heard of Moroi, however. Yoshitsugu Sawai
confirmed this fact with Izutsu himself. Sawai is a scholar of Indian
philosophy of whom Izutsu thought highly; not only is he a member of
the same faith as Moroi, he also inherited Moroi’s scholastic mantle in
Tenri-kyo theological studies.
If thev had know n one another, it is impossible to state for certain
that thev would have seen eve to eve. ’ The similarities and differences
between them are clear simply from reading their works. But had thev
known of each other’s existence, there is no doubt they w'ould not have
been able to ignore one another. Both excelled in their fluent use of
dozens of languages, and vet even as they pursued studies based on
their reading of the classics, they wrere close as w'ell in their contem­
poraneity, never losing sight of modern thought. Kor both, philoso­
phy was not the study of the past; it was nothing less than a direct and
substantive wav to overcome the confusions of the present. While on
his sickbed not long before he died, Yoshinori Moroi asked Teruaki lida
(1929- ), a Tenri colleague \Vho was going to France, to buy him the
latest book by Merleau-Pontv. How many people in Japan w ere actively
reading Merleau-Ponty in i960? Merleau-Pontv’s name also appears
several times in Ishiki to honshitsu (1983; Consciousness and essence).
Toshihiko lzutsu wxis interested in the thought of Jaecpies Derrida,
wrote essays about him and was personally acquainted with him, but
his interest in Merleau-Ponty wras by no means less than his interest in
Derrida.
Teruaki lida w'rites that at one time the Universitv of Kvoto tried
to hire Yoshinori Moroi. T h e very^ fact that Kvoto
* Universitv* would
consider hiring someone who had neither publications nor a doctoral
degree tells us something about Yoshinori M oroi’s standing and his
promise as a scholar. When its then president Kokiehi Kano (1862­
1942) once tried unsuccessfully to get Kyoto Imperial Universitv to hire
the eminent sinologist Konan Naito (1866-1934), who was then a high-
sehool teacher in Akita Prefecture, he complained that Kyoto Univer­
sity was a place that would not accept Jesus or the Buddha themselves
if thev didn’t have an advanced degree. An invitation from Kyoto Uni­
versity was also extended to Toshihiko lzutsu. In 1962, the linguistics
scholar Hisanosuke Izui (1905-1983) tried to hire him as a professor of
linguistics. Both Moroi and lzutsu declined the invitations. Although
thev considered going to Kyoto, those close to them w'ould not allow' it
in the hopes that they w ould become leading lights at the institutions
to which each belonged.

Shamanism and Mysticism

Just as the search for truth is wTat constitutes daily life for an ascetic,
for a scholar of a higher order the w ay to truth is thinking itself. Rather
than the agreement of their interests, what is worth observing in the
ease of Yoshinori Moroi and Toshihiko lzutsu are the similarities and
differences in their spirituality'. Whereas the soul is always synonymous
with the self, the spirit seeks its Creator. Human beings cannot acquire
spirituality; they already have it. Spirituality is nothing less than an
instinct, a desire inherent in beings to return to their origins. And isn’t
salvation the efflorescence of a dormant instinct for spirituality with the
help of the light from bevond? Salvation is both a human aspiration
and the desire of the One who endowed human beings with a spirit.
Some people become aware of this instinct as the result of a serious ill­
ness. Yet even when the flesh is in agonv, sometimes the spirit rejoices.
And sometimes, instead, it soothes the pain and heals the illness.
At the beginning of his major work, Yoshinori Moroi asserts that
mysticism really exists. “ We acknowledge, first of all, that mysticism
is something that exists as an actual fact, and we recognize that it is
not simply a product of the imagination,” he writes in his study of the
development of religious mysticism.s “ We must not adopt an attitude
that would subsume phenomena regarded as mystical into other ordi­
nary psychological phenomena, and conclude that mysticism as a
unique phenomenon docs not exist.”9 Mysticism and mystical experi­
ences arc not a matter of altered states of consciousness, nor is w hat a
person thinks or feels during a mystical experience the primary issue;
the limitations of the human senses, he says, have no bearing on the
mystical reality. This passage might w'cll be called Moroi’s manifesto.
What is the true intention of the subject who speaks through human
beings? —this is the question that ought to be raised, and it is the schol­
ar’s responsibility to elucidate that purpose. And if mysticism is an
experience of God, he savs, the scholar begins the discussion bv first
acknowledging the existence of God. For Moroi, religion is not found
in doctrines drawn up by human agency. It is nothing less than the
crystallization of one’s present life backed by faith and the traditions of
that faith.
Having made this assumption, Moroi puts his outstanding linguis­
tic skills to use and conscientiously assembles texts in their original lan­
guages to verify it. Anyone who deals with “ religious mysticism,” he
says, must never become removed from historical fact. Scholarly proof
was an inflexible iron law for him. What is required of a scholar is not
a mystical interpretation but a hard look at history, reading between
the lines to discover the “ mystery” within. Moreover, be tries to sec
G o d ’s will in the phenomena that survive as historical facts, bar from
impeding Moroi’s scholarship, by eliminating the mere play of ideas.
this principle might well be said to have further strengthened the pas­
sion and the power of imagination that he invests in substantiating
bis hypotheses. Mvsties ofte»say that the present is joined to eternity;
M oroi attempts to find the pathway to eternity in every passage, every
word, of the texts.
T h e subject of the mystical experience is a topic that Toshihiko
Izutsu also dealt with, first in Sliinpi tetsugakii. He, too, sees only a
secondary significance in the mystical phenomena that present them­
selves in human beings. That is because the subjcct/agent of the action
is not the human being; it is nothing less than the transeendcntally
Absolute. Human beings are onlv passive recipients. To speak of an
“ active mystical experience” makes no sense; the true mystical experi­
ence is altogether passive. Anyone who talks about mysticism and deals
onlv with the impressions human beings receive, Moroi believes, fails
to notice the manifestation of God, who is its subject. The dragon god
manifests itself along with the rain, but the god’s true purpose cannot
be explained by discussing the human beings who are awed bv the
forces of nature. It mav be that the god appeared and caused rain to fall
on a village not to bring about an abundant harvest but to save the life
of a single sick woman.
The phrase “ religious mvstieism” is a kev term for Moroi. He used
it to make a sharp distinction between primitive shamanism, on the one
hand, and the mysticism found in world religions. Although he docs
not disavow shamanism, he does not regard it as the same as mysticism.
The subject in shamanism is not neeessarilv the Absolute; it mav be the
workings not of the One, but of the souls of the dead or a genius loci,
the protective spirit of a place. Rudolf Steiner called the surge of spir­
itual power that informs an era a Zeitgeist, a ‘“ Time Spirit” or a “ Spirit
of the Age.” There mav even have been times when such entities spoke.
Dionysus and the other gods who appear in Greek mythology may have
been the names given to just this sort of spiritual being. Setsuzo Kotsuji
would probably have said that this is true even of the name Moses. But
inasmuch as they are also creatures, they are not the subject of the “ reli­
gious mysticism” that Yoshinori Moroi is talking about.
Mireea ftliade said this in reference to the definition of a shaman:
T h ey must, first, be a “ specialist in the sacred,” 10 but that is not all;
they must know how lo use ecstasy For the good of the eoinmunitv to
whieh the\ belong. Kliadc does not reeogni/e as legitimate shaman­
ism a situation in whieh a shaman repeals a personal experience For
arbitrary or obstructive ends and becomes the object of Fear and trem­
bling. Shamanism must always be a spiritual exercise that transcends
tbe individual.

Moroi seems to have had a special aim in mind when he inten­

tionally placed the word “ religious” before mysticism to create the
term “ religious mysticism.” 1 1 is use of the word “ religious” does not,
of course, signify a particular religious sect nor does it denote religious
activities. What he is probing into is an intrinsic essence that ought to
be called tbe archetype of religion.
“ I wish these legends could also be heard, for they would . . . make
those ot us who live in the lowlands shudder,” reads the preface to the
T o/70 monogatari (1910; Legends of Tono, 1975).11 The only ones who can
speak about a different dimension of reality, no longer visible even to the
eves of religious leaders or literary figures, it saws, are the folklorists. This
statement is nothing less than the proclamation of the birth of a new
academic discipline and an expression of his concern for the times on
the part of Kunio Yanagita (1875-1962), the father of Japanese folklore
studies. Eliade, the author of Le chamanisme (1951; Shamanism, 1964),
had a similar idea. The various religions are busv discussing their own
God, but if “ religion” is regarded as the way by which humankind loves,
worships and obeys the Transcendent, then the modern world has long
lost sight of religion. Historians, philosophers, ethnologists, psycholo­
gists and sociologists may be able to discuss religion, but because thev
all try to pigeonhole it and understand it using their owai methodolo­
gies, inevitably the results always end up being only partial. The only
one “ to present a comprehensive view,” in the true sense, of “ religious
phenomena,” the only one who is genuinely able to discuss hieropbany,
to borrow' Eliade’s word, is “ the historian of religions.” 12
It will come as no surprise that Yoshinori Moroi has w'ritten in
similar terms. Wasn’t it his fervent belief that, in the present day, only
“ the historian of religions” is capable of removing the encrustations of
dogma and elucidating the inner workings of mysticism? 'The historian
of religions that he is speaking of here is the scholar w ho, before regard­
ing religion as an object of scientific stud}', holds it deeply and indeli­
bly in mind as a “ pressing problem of the soul.”
According to M o ro i’s Tenri colleague, Tadamasa Fukaya (1912­
2007), when Gabriel Marcel visited Tenri and met Yoshinori Moroi, he
was astonished to find someone in the Far Fast who had read his works
so carefully. One wonders whether Moroi met Fliadc when the lat­
ter visited Japan. Toshihiko Izutsu and Fliadc met twice at the Franos
Conference. It took no time for the two of them to understand each
other; it was as though the}' had been close friends for ten years, Izutsu
wrote. Fliade came to Japan in August 1958 to attend the Ninth World
Congress of the International Association for the History of Religions.
Yoshinori Moroi’s attendance at this conference can be confirmed from
photographs taken at the time. Ichiro Ilori (1910-1974), whose transla­
tions later introduced Fliade to Japan, had met him in Chicago the
previous vear, but Fliade’s fame in Japan in those days was, of course,
nothing like what it is today. If the two of them had met, the encounter
with Moroi would likely have left as deep an impression on Eliade as
the one with Toshihiko Izutsu did.
Shamanism is a central theme for Toshihiko Izutsu that runs through
his works from Shinpi tetsugaku (1949) to Ishiki to honshitsu (1983). The
subtitle of his major English-language book, Sufism and Taoism (1983),
is “A Comparative Study of Kev Philosophical Concepts,” but it might
just as well have been subtitled “A Study of Oriental Shamanism.” At
the beginning of the section on Taoist thought in that work, Izutsu deals
with the evidence for Lao-tzu the man and Chuang-tzu the man, i.e. for
the historical reality of Li Er and Chuang Chou, relying on Shill Chi
(Book of History) as well as records handed down by the Confucianists,
but at a certain point, as if disavowing these efforts to verily their exis­
tence, he savs that, as long as the writings attributed to “ Lao-tzu” and
“ Clmang-tzu” exist, whether or not the}- themselves existed as historical
figures is only a secondary matter. The true subject is what Lao-tzu calls
Tao; a person is only a channel for it. Insofar as the one who speaks is not
a human being, but One who transcends human beings, the personal
identity of these men is probably not a primary concern.
 This insight truly convcvs Tosliiliiko Izutsu’s intellectual outlook.
Unlike Moroi, Izutsu does not make a sharp distinction between sha­
manism and mvsticism. lie takes the attitude that a higher order of
spirits is quite capable of transmitting a glimpse of the Transcendent.
On this point, Yoshinori Moroi and Tosliiliiko Izutsu do not agree.
Indeed, Tosliiliiko Izutsu does not agree with anyone on this matter. As
quoted earlier, his view that ancient Greece, while having a sliaman-
istic spirituality, essentially tended toward monotheism, attests to the
originality of Izutsu’s experience of Greece.
“ The mystical experience is not a human being’s experience of
God,” Izutsu says in his study of St Bernard. “ It is, rather, G o d s experi­
ence of himself.” 1" If God seeing God is regarded as the mystical expe­
rience, then the human being is somewhere in between, forced to see
God with G o d ’s eyes and at the same time with his/her own human
eyes. Properly speaking, this is bevond the power of human endurance.
In Greek mythology, the human Semelc, who asked Zeus to show' him­
self in his true form, lost her life. But this is also the highest favor that
can be bestowed on a human being. In the nature of things, people can­
not know' the Vrgrund of their being through their own power alone. It
is only at the instigation of the Transcendent that thev are able to do so.
The relation between God and human is asymmetric and irreversible.
“ Vrgrund ” would become a key concept in Yoshinori M oroi’s
thought. The German prefix “ Ur,” meaning “ primal,” is affixed to the
word “Grund" and used as a single word to emphasize our primordial
nature. “ On reflection, knowing this Vrgrund was not something that
human beings are essentially capable of doing. Originally, it was some­
thing that w’as absolutely impossible for them to do. . . . The Greator
knows the Vrgrund of creatures. Vrgrund is perhaps something that is
made known only by being told or taught bv the One who knows the
origin of its formation. [People] are able to know7[the truth of their Vrgr­
und} only by being informed of it.”14 This passage is not a scholarly obser­
vation; it perhaps ought to be read as a profession of faith by Yoshinori
Moroi, the student of Tenri-kvo. But inasmuch as scholarship for him
was also a way of cultivating faith, there is probably no need to make a
dichotomy between his existential positions as a scholar and as a believer.
 Why do people need to believe in a religion? How ean the\ eateh a
glimpse of the truth of religion without delving deeply into the inevita­
ble problem of the suhjeet of*faith? Nowadays religion may be nothing
more than a humanistic coneept, and yet “ it is obvious that religious
people do not fear being included in this term. That is bceause when
it eomes to the position of an inexhaustible subjcet it is intolerable that
the pressing problem of their o\\rn souls should be flattened out and
reduced to a simple objective eoncept.” Religion is, after all, he says,
nothing other than the “ locus of the individual subject.” 1" It would be
wrong to see in this statement the narrow-minded view that onlv believ­
ers can diseuss religion. T he verv idea of a person converting to some
religion or other already relativizes or standardizes religion and ignores
the “ loeus of the individual subject,” whieh is faith.
Membership in a particular religion is not a problem. But if Moroi
w'cre asked whether it is impossible for someone who is not a seeker
after transcendental Reality to discuss religion, he would probably say
yes. “ Sueh being the ease, how would it be possible for them, when
the\' try to discuss religion, to have a grasp of its true essence without
refleeting on the living whole of it in conformity with their subjective
life?” Moroi writes. “ Serious inquiry into religion must be attempted bv
approaching its true nature with profound sympathy.” 16

At the time Shukyoteki shutaisei no ronri was published, there were

no authorial revisions; it was a posthumous work. If his studv of the
development of religious mysticism was his scholarlv magnum opus,
this posthumous book proves that Yoshinori Moroi was a rare individual
thinker. He was also a philosopher who had the requisite background
and ability to eonstruet an ideological system rare for Japan.
In-depth discussions of mystieism, or what Izutsu ealls the “ mvsti-
eal experience,” inevitablv delve into the origins of religion. Latent in
sueh discussions is the question of whether human beings are eapable
of encountering and achieving union with God without the mediation
of dogma, commandments, rituals, holy seriptures or faith-based com­
munities sueh as ehurehes and temples. This, in turn, is connected
to the fundamental question of whether people ean come in direet
contaet with the Transcendent w ithout religion at all. When Christian
scholastic theology entered a blind alley, Kckhart appeared and cleared
the way for German mysticism. When Islam became inflexible in its
interpretation of its doctrines and commandments, l.lallaj appeared
and reviyed the spirituality of M uhammad. Massignon saw a high
degree of agreement in the spirituality of these tw7o men. Just before his
death Kckhart w;as accused of being a heretic; l.lallaj was executed as a
criminal. It was no accident that they both were shunned in their day
and met unfortunate ends. Both spoke wrords that broke through the
confusion of their times and ushered in the light, but for those accus­
tomed to darkness, the light may sometimes seem more like a threat
than the bestow-al of grace. Suhraw'ardf, the tw'clfth-ccntury Persian
who spoke of the metaphysics of light, was assassinated. I lis Japanese
contemporary floncn, the founder of the Jodo (Pure Land) school,
in his later years was exiled to an island, the yirtual equivalent of the
death penalty. Jesus w'as crucified, and most of his disciples ended their
lives as martyrs.
Yoshinori Moroi was a believer in Tcnri-kyo; Toshihiko l/.utsu was
a mystic who did not believe in any particular religion. The idea that
Izutsu was a Muslim is nothing more than a myth. He was not. Me did,
however, have an incontrovertible experience of God. Philosophy for
Izutsu would be nothing less than the w'av to verify this experience.
That is the reason he was able to find traces of religion, i.e. faith, in
ancient Greek philosophy. For Moroi and Izutsu, “ mysticism” is not a
word that signifies a particular ideology or set of beliefs; it is a straight
road, an attitude toward life that regards the mysteries as the main
source of righteousness. Mysticism does not reject faith-based commu­
nities. Rather, true mysticism serves as a matrix for them. Tcnvard the
cud of his life, Bergson saw' Catholicism as the perfect complement to
Judaism and confessed his belief in it. What led him to Christianity
were the mystics w'hoim he discussed in Les deux sources de la morale
et de la religion (1932; The Two Sources of Morality and Religion, 1935).
For Bergson, a Jcwv, Christianity7was not a new' religion. Wasn’t what he
discovered in Catholicism, rather, a w'av of returning to the Urreligion?
In Sluikyoteki shutaisei no ronri, Yoshinori Moroi discusses the
topic of Urreligion. Urreligion docs not mean the oldest religion or
primitive religion. It docs not belong to a particular time, but exists
in “ time” in a qualitative sense. “ T i m e ” does not belong on a mea­
surable temporal axis. J.M. Mitfry said that what Dostoevsky depieted
was beyond time rather than in time; Urreligion , too, implies nothing
less than the existenee of this kind of “ time.” It is also the dimension
in which Eliade’s homo religiosus lives. Mvstieism breaks through spa­
tio-temporal limitations and leads people to the site of ur-revelation, in
other words, to the “ now-ness” of Urreligion. If a true dialogue among
religions is to come about, it will likelv not occur bv haggling over
dogma; it will be realized in the silenee of the mvsties.
T he reason Yoshinori Moroi was able to have such a superb feel­
ing for Islam is not unrelated to his being a believer in Tenri-kvo.
T h e faet that it is a monotheism, the position and role of its founder
and prophet, its holv land, and the details surrounding the origin of
its saered texts, their revelation and systematic compilation — a mere
glanee at this list shows that Tenri-kyo is far closer to Islam than it is
to Christianitv. Tenri-kvo is now' engaged in an active dialogue with
Catholicism, but if it were to attempt a similar dialogue with Islam, it
is apt to discover a new dimension that it would be unable to find in its
exchanges with Christianitv.
Moroi’s speculations on the persona of Cod, which he developed
in his essay on Tenri-kyo dogmatie theology, eould well be ealled an
attempt to go beyond the veil of the denominations of world religions
sueh as Judaism, Christianitv and Islam and trace religions baek to
their divine origin. Yoshinori Moroi develops his argument using not
only terms sueh as Creator and Savior for G o d ’s persona, but also
Manifested Proteetor, Revealer, Designator, Beginning of the World,
All-Funbraeing One and Inspirer. As he describes it, Tenri-kvo is a
monotheism pure and simple. As the works of Yoshinori Moroi make
abundantly elear, the thesis that Japan is rooted in a polytheistic culture
that is incompatible with monotheism is specious and naive. Had he
been able to proeeed further with his systematic construction of a Ten-
rikvologv and a dogmatie theologv of Tenri-kvo, he might have shown
analogies that transeend time and spaee between the God revealed in
Japan and Jerusalem respeetivelv.
WTat he never lost sight of was the relation of “ analogv.” An anal­
og)' basically connotes comparable phenomena. But these phenomena
arc not merely similar. If that were all, there prohahly would be no
need to discuss them further. Analogy signifies that operations of a sim­
ilar quality are unfolding dynamically among different entities. What
Toshihiko Izutsu thoroughly explored in Su/isin and Taoism is not that
these two philosophical worldviews arc similar. It is nothing less than to
cause them both to manifest Oriental spirituality analogically.

The suggestion that monotheism is based on a paternal principle

and polytheism on a maternal one has been heard man}' times. Some
say that the God of the Koran is, first and foremost, a paternal God
who causes fear and trembling. But seeing only fatherhood, the embod­
iment of sternness and judgment, in the omniscient, omnipotent one
God denies G o d ’s perfection. This is not the true nature of God but
only a graphic reflection of the limitations of the human beings who
contemplate God. The following passage is found in Moroi’s essay on
Tenri-kvo dogmatic theology: “ God the Parent washed to save human
beings from their many earc-s and sufferings and bestowed the merit
of salvation bv graciously appearing before them.” 1- God loves us as
parents love their children; this view of God runs throughout Yoshinori
Moroi’s theology. It is perhaps for that reason that Tcnri-kyo calls the
Transcendent “ God the Parent.”
“A belief in the God of mercy’s countenance of bright light, which
is the converse of the God of wrath and outwardly a complete antith­
esis to it, is a fundamental characteristic of Judaic personal theism. . .
. The Koran describes the terrifying Lord of judgment vet at the same
time attempts to convey 11 is joyful message as ‘good news.’ In fact, the
boundless mercy and loving kindness of God are emphasized every­
where in the Koran.” These are not the words of Yoshinori Moroi but
of Toshihiko Izutsu in Mahoinetto.lHIf God willed it, the wnrld w’ould
disappear in an instant. T he fact that the w'orld now exists is due to
G o d ’s loving kindness. The God manifested in the Koran is a God of
maternal mercy before being a God of judgment. This is the spiritu­
ality that Toshihiko Izutsu discovered in Islam at an early date. Like
Pascal, he discovered w'hat he had already known. It is fair to think that
the God of mercy and loving kindness was, in fact, the spirituality of
loshihiko Izutsu himself.
 Biograph}' o f the Prophet
»k

T h e use of “ M u h a m m a d o ” as the Japanese approximation of the

Prophet’s name is relatively recent. Japanese formerly referred to him
as “ Mahometto,” perhaps following French usage. Toshihiko Izutsu’s
A Icihometto came out in 1952, a vear after F lia d e ’s Chamanisme was
published. In that same year, Yoshinori Moroi wrote a monograph enti­
tled “ Muhamaddo ni okeru shinpi taiken no mondai: genshi Isuramu
no tassawuffu” (The question of M uham m ad’s mystical experience: The
flowering of tasawwuf in early Islam). T h e following vear, 1953, Yoshi­
nori Moroi submitted his doctoral dissertation, Shukyo shinpishugi has-
sei no kenkvu, which includes this essav, to the University of Tokyo.
When the dissertation was published in 1966, the title was changed to
“The question of the Prophet M uham m ad’s mvstieal experience.”
The question in point is found in Chapter 53 of the Koran.

In the name of Allah the Merciful, the Compassionate, I swear by the

setting star. Your companion was not mistaken nor was he led astray.
Nor docs he speak out of self-indulgent emotions. It is, indeed, noth­
ing other than a revelation that he reveals. The one of might} power
taught him. The one who has strength (taught him). And so he truly
acquired skill. And he was on the highest level of the horizon and
approached from there. And he bowed. Thus, he was the distance
of two bow-lengths or even nearer than that. Then he turned to his
servant and revealed what he revealed. The latter’s heart did not mis­
represent what he saw'. Do you, then, try to dispute with him about
what he saw'?'9

“ This passage is extremely' suggestive,” Yoshinori Moroi writes.

“ In all the chapters of the O ur’an [Moroi’s spelling], there is probably
nothing like it that conveys such subtle information about the experi­
ence.”20 These are strong words. Considering that the context in which
they' w'ere w'ritten was a doctoral dissertation, we must read them as
even further emphasizing w'hat he felt in his innermost heart. The key
to a basic understanding of the Koran is hidden in this passage, Moroi
w’ould perhaps sav, and those who overlook it have lost sight of some­
thing important.
 rIosliiliiko Izutsu translated the Koran twice. T he passage cited
below is taken from volume 2 of the first version, published in 1958,
which Yoshinori Moroi might have read. When the second translation
came out, Moroi was already in the other world. I lore is Toshihiko
Izutsu’s translation of the same passage.

In the name of the profoundly merciful, all-compassionate Allah. Bv

the setting star. . .
Your colleague is not misguided; he is not mistaken, lie is not
babbling baseless fancies. These are all divine oracles that are being
revealed. In the first place, the one who first taught (the revelation) to
that man is the possessor of tcrrifving pow’er, a lord excelling in intel­
ligence. 11is shape distinctly came into view far off beyond the high
horizon, and, as he looked on, he cffortlcsslv, effortlessly descended
and drew near; his nearness was almost that of two bows, no, perhaps
even closer than that. Then it revealed the main purpose of the ora­
cle to the manservant.
Whv would the heart lie about what lie certainlv saw with his own
exes? Is it xour intention to make this or that objection about what he
trillv saw?21
It has to be said that Toshihiko Izutsu’s translation is unique. And yet
it is probablv not enough to sense onl\r a difference in tone here. A
fine translation is always an excellent eommentarw Both translations
faithfully convey the “ readings” of the t\\'o men. The difference in their
translations is, in other words, the difference in their personal expe­
riences of Islam. 1 shall deal with this topic later when 1 discuss the
Koran. The issue here is a different one.
As Yoshinori Moroi points out, the question is, “ did Muhammad
in fact see Allah?” or was it an angel that the Prophet saw'. The “shape
[that | distinctly came into \’ie\\' far off beyond the high horizon” in
Toshihiko Izutsu’s translation, he would come to say, was the archangel
Gabriel. Having reviewed the interpretations of B. Shricke and Josef
Horovitz, Yoshinori Moroi came to the conclusion that what M uham­
mad saw' was not Allah, as they had said, nor was it an angel. “ It was
Allah as the subject of the Allah nature.”22 The technical term “Allah
nature” is unique to Yoshinori Moroi. Allah does not appear qua Allah;
human beings are iiieapable of perceiving him through their senses.
Even the Prophet is no exception. God is invisible and unknowable.
When Paul wfas on the road to Damascus, he encountered a light,
heard the voice of Jesus saying, “ Why are you persecuting m e?” and
was knocked to the ground. Led by the hand, he entered the city, and
for the next three days, his eyes saw' nothing, and he w'as unable to eat
or drink. T h e light that Paul saw' was not God. God, who is infinite,
is light, but that does not mean that light is God. Paul saw' a light and
heard Jesus’ voice. For Paul, God and Christ are synonymous. T h e
mystery of Christianity resides in that svnonvmv. To borrow Yoshinori
M oroi’s w'ords, one might say that this light was not Christ; it was his
“ Christ nature.”
One w inders whether Toshihiko lzutsu might not have seen an
“Allah nature” in Chapter 53 of the Koran. In later years, in the series
of lectures published as Koran o yomu (1983; Reading the Koran), he
deals w ith this chapter as the classic example of M u h a m m a d ’s vision
experience.2' Although in his translations he regards the one who
appeared as the archangel Gabriel, he adds the reservation that there
is room for scholarly debate. But if it wras not Gabriel, then a human
being saw' Allah, he savs, and that causes problems from a theological
perspective. He left no further comments on this subject. If he had
gone on and done so, he might have developed an angclology, a theory
of angels. “T he only person able to respond to the call of the Western
philosophical tradition and approach a solution to it head-on was St
Thomas. Herein lies the profound historical significance of his spec­
ulations on angels.”24 “The solution to it” is the question of the divine
nature, i.e. the existence of an “ Allah nature” that Yoshinori Moroi
noted. Ever since the time of Shinpi tetsugaku, the problem of angels
was on lzutsu’s mind.
What are angels? The fact that angels are a vibrant reality not only
in Christianity' but also in Islam is evident from the preceding quotes;
for Japanese, they may be easier to understand if w’e think of the Bodhi-
sattvas, wTio are the attendants of Nvorai. Angels have no will of their
own. T h e y are messengers wdio convey G o d ’s will. For Toshihiko
lzutsu, real angels ahvays express “ Christ nature” and “Allah nature.”
Indeed, lzutsu would probably say they cannot be called “ angels” if
they do not do so. T h e subject of angels would arise once again in
his later years as main topics in his discussion of “ the angelologv of
W O R D ” and “ the angel aspect of W O R D ” in Ishiki to honshitsu A

I’he first work byj Toshihiko Izutsu after he returned from Iran in
1979 was Isurcnmi seitem (1979; T he birth of Islam).26 Part One, the
biography of Muhammad, was a reworking of the older book Mahoni-
etto , which modified its “ extravagantly figurative” expression. T he
version contained in his selected works (1990) is also the newer one,
which he further revised and enlarged. In 1989, however, Toshihiko
Izutsu republished the original version of A lahometto. The reason for
doing so, he wrote, was “ that, despite its main' flaw's, I have come to
believe that there is, on the whole, an interesting quality and a special
flavor in the original work, and only in the original work.”2"
When he republished Shinpi tetsugakii in 1978 and combined
Arabia shisoshi and Arabia tetsugakii and published them as Isurcnmi
sbisdsbi (1975; I listorv of Islamic thought) while he was still in Iran, he
commented on the significance of their republication, saying that these
w'ere w'orks he had written as a voung man and that they could only
have been written at such a time. That does not mean, however, that
he ventured to republish them in versions faithful to the original, as he
did in the case of A lahometto. An overview of intellectual history and a
biograph}' of the Prophet are different genres, and yet the significance
he placed on the republication of Mahometto is profound in the sense
that it was a return to his starting point.
Reading Mabowetto calls to mind Hideo Kobayashi’s writings on
Rimbaud. Not because they are both w'orks by young men in which
they describe the God of their youth, but because they are candid snap­
shots of their authors’ entrance into the other world. Moreover, like
Kobavashi, Toshihiko Izutsu’s biograph}’ of the Prophet and his other
works of this period, rather than being scholarly monographs, contain
an element of literary criticism, what Baudelaire called poetry on a
higher level. That is not just my own impressionistic opinion. From a
glance at the chronology of his writings, it is certain!}' possible to catch
a glimpse of Toshihiko Izutsu the literary critic in the essays on C lau ­
del and the other works around the time of Roshia bimgaku (Russian
literature) and Roshiateki ningen (1953; Russian humanity) that were
written just before or after Mcihometto.
The introduction to Mcihometto eites a passage from the beginning
of Goethe’s Faust.

Ihr nalit eueli wieder, sehwankcndc Gestaltcn!

Die friih sieli einst dem triiben Blick gezeigt.
Versueh’ ieh wohl eueh diesmal fest 7,11 halten?
Fill'll’ ich mein Herz noeli jenem Wahn geneigt?
Ihr drangt eueh zu! nun gut, so mogt ihr walten,
YVie ihr aus Dunst und Nebel inn niich steigt;
Mein Busen fiihlt sieli jugendlieh erschuttcrt
V0111 Zauberhauch, der euren Zug umwittert.

(Once more you near me, wavering apparitions

That early showed before the turbid gaze.
Will now I seek to grant you definition,
My heart essay again the former daze?
You press me! Well, I yield to your petition,
As all around, you rise from mist and haze;
What wafts about vour train with magie glamor
Is quickening my breast to youthful tremor. ) 2 8

Faust was not a product of G o e th e ’s imagination. He believed in the

actual existence of the other world, that real life was located there.
Had that not been the case, Goethe would not have needed to applv
seven seals to the container in which he placed Faust after complet­
ing it. lzutsu also alludes to Goethe in Shinpi tetsugaku. Citing a pas­
sage from J.P. Eekermann’s Gesprdche mit Goethe (1836-1848; Goethe's
Conversations with /.R Eckermann , 1830), “ Ieh denke mir die Erde mit
ihrem Dunstkreise gleichnisweise als ein grosses lebendiges Wesen, das
im ewigen Ein- und Ausatmen begriffen ist’’ (I compare the earth and
her atmosphere to a great living being, perpetually inhaling and exhal­
ing), he calls Goethe “ the classic example of someone who has experi­
enced the World S011I.”29 Standing alone before the universe, detached
from time and space, liberated from religion and from ideological
dogmas, the mind is suddenly connected to its “ life form,” then led to
the other world. When Izntsu thinks of Muhammad, he w ould proba­
bly sav, he is always led before the gate to the other world that Goethe
describes. Izutsu called Muhammad “ the hero of the spiritual world.”
for Izutsu, it is the “ spiritual world” that constitutes “ reality.”
A Icihometto is a strange and wonderful work. What clearly remains
every time I read it is not the merchant who is transformed into the
Prophet, but rather the vast Arabian landscape expectantly awaiting
the Prophet’s arrival. Perhaps that was the author’s intention. What the
thirtv-eight-vear-old Izutsu attempted to write, it would be fair to say,
was not an objective biography of the Prophet, but rather the recol­
lections of someone who had accompanied the author’s hero. Izutsu
does not deal with the “ Prophet M uhammad” ; instead he tries empir­
ically to follow the path that Muhammad took to become a prophet
and an apostle. As for the works on Muhammad written prior to this
brief biography, he says, most of them are not “ biographies” but merely
“ legends” ; his owai objective, he declares, is dcmythologization. On
the other hand, however, lie does not conceal the passionate emotion
welling up within him; “A depietion of Muhammad into which mv
own heart’s blood doesn’t directly flow' would be impossible for me to
portray,” he writes. But does an empirical mind that would elucidate
history in the true sense nourish passion, he wonders. “ For that reason,”
he writes, “ I will take the plunge and give myself over completely to
the eall of the ehaotie and eonfused forms sw'arming in mv breast,”
then goes on to say:

Forget that you are in the dust}' and dirt-filled streets of a major city
proud of its culture and civilization and let your thoughts go where
vour imagination leads von thousands of miles beyond the sea to
the desolate and lonely Arabian desert. The scorching sun burning
relentlessly in the boundless sky, on earth the blistering rocky crags
and the vast expanses of sand upon sand as far as the eve can see. It
was in this strange and uncanny world that the Prophet Muhammad
was bornT
'Phe Arabian landscape described in Mahometto is not the author’s
imagination. The w-riting tells us that. I le would probably say that he
“saw7” it. It is hard to believe lie would have had am ’ other reason than
this for reviving the original version. T h e recollections of what lie saw
and heard are also indelibly inscribed in the passages cited below’. Read
them, paying attention not just to their meaning but also to the style
that he achieved here.
H alf of this critical biography is devoted to a discussion of the
Arab mind during the jahilTyya before the appearance of Muhammad.
Where he finds evidence for it is in the poems of this era. So frequentlv
is poetry cited that this biography can be read as a poetry anthology or
an essay on the poems of the jahilTyya period. “T h e only thing these
pre-Islamie Arabs handed down to posterity,” Izutsu savs, “ w'ere the
songs of the desert, w’hich trulv deserve to be called Arabic literature.’” 1

All, enjoy this moment

For in the end death will come to the bode.’"
j

In the background of this poem by Amr Ibn Kulthum arc a people w ho

have lost sight of eternity. T h ev wrerc by nature realists who did not
believe in life after death.

For them eternal life in a world other than this one was out of
the question. Eternity, everlasting life in this world, had to be one
enjoved in the flesh. . . . Existence bv its verv nature is essentiallv
ephemeral—having been mereilesslv dashed against the cold iron
w'all of reality, people had to accept this. And if this world sadlv is not
to he relied on and human life but a brief sojourn, then it is a waste
not to spend at least the short life we have been granted in intense
pleasure. And so people immersed themselves in immoralitv and
debaucherv and the search for transient intoxication.”

For those for whom only the phenomenal world is real, the natu­
ral conclusion is that the bonds of kinship are proof of their own exis­
tence. What confirmed this for the people of the desert, the Bedouin,
wras the tribe to w hich they belonged, in other words, blood tics. Tribal
laws, traditions and customs determined individual behavior. If a mem­
ber of one tribe met an untimely end at the hands of another tribe,
for the remaining members revenge w'as “ a sacred — quite literallv a
sacred—solemn duty.” But Muhammad, “ w’ith a pitving smile for their
haughtiness and arrogance, took no account whatsoever of the signifi­
cance of blood ties and the preeminence of family lineage.” '5 What he
preached was just one thing: “A person’s nobility does not derive from
one’s birth or family line; it is measured soleb' by the depth of one’s
pious fear of God.” '6 Islam is, in fact, thoroughgoing in its insistence on
equality in the sight of God. There was even a sect which took the posi­
tion that someone who had been the object of discrimination in the
past could become caliph, the leader of the theocracy, if the profundity
of that person’s faith were recognized.
Just as people are absolutely dependent on God, time belongs to
eternity. Eternity is real. Superiority of family lineage, which prom­
ises glorv in this world, has no special significance whatsoever for the
attainment of salvation. People exist in order to believe in and w or­
ship God, said Muhammad, preaching the absolute nature of piety.
He rejected the existing values and customs and even the existing vir­
tues. On the other hand, however, it was the pleasure-seeking realists,
people oblivious to transcendence and eternity, those who obeyed the
laws of their tribe rather than the laws of God, Izutsu writes, who were
the yen' ones that prepared the way for the coming of Muhammad. At
this time, “ If [the Arab people] were not somehow saved, it would have
been nothing less than spiritual ruin. The situation was truly becoming
more and more urgent.”
Above and beyond the relationships of need, hope, supplication
and reliance, the reason people seek God is the result of the workings
of oreksis, the instinctive desire to seek the Transcendent that Aristotle
discussed. What Izutsu wras looking for in the poems of the jahillyya
w ere the vestiges of oreksis. The urge that humans have to return to
their ontological origins triggered a chain reaction, Izutsu believed,
that resonated and invited the Prophet. But what is desired does not
necessarily appear in the desired form. The workings of God always
exceed human expectations. Before they could obtain the salvation
they sought, the Bedouin had to give up the blood ties they had previ­
ously considered most important.
At first, Muhammad had no intention of founding a religion. The
Muhammad w'hom Izutsu describes is not the founder of a religion hut
an admonishcr, a spiritual revolutionary. “ Mahomet, w'ho was sent as
G o d ’s apostle to deliver the Koran to the w orld, was a nadhir (admon-
ishcr). . . . His mission as Prophet was spent in giving warnings."^ As
Izutsn’s w’ords suggest, the reason Islam became a religion was only
because these warnings w7ent unheeded. The Koran is a compendium
of admonitions. If the experiences of M uham m ad that came to frui­
tion in the Koran wrere truly mystical experiences, the words that were
spoken could not have been those of M uham m ad the human being.
T h e reason the Koran is holv scripture is not because the Prophet
M uham m ad had a part to play in it, but rather because M uham m ad
annihilated himself to the point that even his afterimage disappeared
and therebv became the passagewav for the W O R D of God.
It wras M u h am m ad ’s insight as Prophet that it wras not the Jews or
the Christians, but he himself w'ho had inherited in its entirety the spir­
ituality of Abraham and Jesus.

It had to be a religion that was neither Judaism nor Christianity, a

far purer, far more authentic Israelite religion than those historical
religions that had gone astray. It had to be a religion that transcended
history, truly the direct embodiment of “eternal religion” { a d - d l n
a l - q a i v i n i ) . . . . Islam wras not a new' religion; it was essentiallv an old

religion.

An “ eternal religion” — this is perhaps the original nature of Islam

that flows from its Urgrund, but it also clearly expresses what Izutsu saw-
in Islam. A studv of God that transcends sects and denominations can
only be articulated by someone wdio has had an experience of God that
transcended religions. T h e “ eternal religion” of which Izutsu speaks
here is identical to Yoshinori Moroi’s Urreligion.
 Catholicism

T h e Saint and the Poet

I mentioned that, when Izutsu was writing

I
N the first ch apter

Shinpi tetfiugciku (1949; Philosophy of mysticism), he belieycd that

Greek mystic philosophy had not been brought to completion by Plotinus,
but rather had flourished under, and reached perfection in, Christian
mysticism. The follow ing passage is from the preface written in 1978 at
the time a reyised yersion of Shinpi tetsugaku was published.

Perhaps as a reaction against the atmosphere at home, where an exces­

sively rigid Oriental mentality prevailed, 1 was far more fascinated with
the West than with the Past. In particular, 1 was deeply affected bv
ancient Creek philosophy and Creek literature. But that was not all; I
was possessed by the highly tendentious view that Creek mysticism as
such had not ended, but had entered Christianity and undergone its
true development, reaching its culmination in the Spanish Carmelite
Order’s mysticism of love and in jolm of the Cross especially.1
If Izutsu was saying that mystic philosophy’s only legitimate line of
descent is the one that leads to John of the Cross, then he must accept
the criticism that this \yas indeed a “ tendentious” notion. Yet it would
be no one other than Izutsu himself w ho, in his later years, w'ould
clearly show that not only Islam and Buddhism but the other Oriental
thought systems of Confucianism and Taoism also belonged on mys­
tic philosophy’s family tree. Nevertheless, it is fair to note that Toshi-
hiko Izutsu, who regarded shamanism as the arehetype of religion and
ascribed a positive significance to it, described himself as “ possessed.”
Inasmuch as he was “ possessed,” that was presumably because, inde­
pendent of his own cool consideration, an idea had seized hold of him
that might even be called an uncontrollable impulse. As in the case of
shamans, when someone is possessed, it is not the one w ho is possessed
that speaks, but the one w ho does the possessing.
“ Shinpislnigi no erosuteki keitai: Sei Berunaru-ron” (1951; T h e
mystieism of St Bernard) was w'ritten as a sequel to Shinpi tetsugaku. 2
In developing his arguments there, Izutsu took over some of the latter
work’s key concepts, beginning with theories i.e. philosophical con­
templation, the metaphysical activity that might be called intellectual
prayer. T he relation to that book is further attested to bv the fact that,
in writing this study about a tw'elfth-centurv doctor of the Christian
Chureh, he engaged in a deep and thorough diseussion of the Hellenic
and Hebraic gods. What is more, he made the superficial correspon­
dences between the twro works explicit bv referring to Shinpi tetsugaku
as the “ previous book.” T h e main topic of the essay is not merely a
diseussion of Bernard the man or his thought. It is rather Izutsu’s trea­
tise on God, in other w'ords, a study of the unitary nature of God, the
One who lies hidden within the many gods whom different religions
and culture have divided up and ealled bv different names. For Izutsu,
Bernard is nothing less than the elassie example of someone w'ho has
posed this problem in its acute form.
Greek theoria, beginning with Plato all the w'ay down to Plotinus,
was still confined to a “ purely metaphysical contemplation” ; “ there was
no awareness of the persona-nature of God.” There was a presence but
no persona. The diseovery of a “ G o d ” w ho woidd become the object of
“ faith and meditation,” he savs, wras “ entrusted to Christian mvsties.” '
For Izutsu, “ mysties” are those wrho discover the “ face,” i.e. the per­
sona, of the Transcendent. That persona ehanges along with the times,
the culture, environment, tradition and circumstances. Izutsu sees no
contradiction between the singular reality of the Transcendent and the
plurality' of religions.
 In the twelfth ccntmv, the Christian Church was facing crises on
several fronts. Confronted by schism within the Church —two popes
contending for hegemony — on more than one occasion over the course
of his lifetime, Bernard was forced to work strenuously to bring about
reconciliation. Not only did he have access to decision-makers w ithin
the Church; he met face to face with several kings as well and told them
what he believed. Between the sovereign might of the State and the fluc­
tuating influence of the Church, there was always a tense relationship
over who should have dominion, the visible or the invisible powers.
Alien Islam emerged as a threat. 'Theological crises and confusion in
the metaphysical realm shook spiritual society. And, as if in response to
the demands of history, Bernard appeared. “A twelfth-centurv theology
ot crisis” is what Izutsu calls Bernard’s theology.'4 Perhaps he was here
recalling Karl Barth, the twentieth-centurv crisis theologian. In Shinpi
tetsugaku he paraphrases Barth’s words: 'The w'orld is G o d ’s world. For
that reason, Cod alone can save the world. 'There is no continuity from
this w'orld to God; there is an absolute abvssF Although these words
cannot be applied directly to Bernard, there is no doubt that lie, too, saw
a destructive crisis of the soul in people w'ho had forgotten Cod.
From the middle of his life onward, Bernard was a religious leader
w ho practiced what lie preached, forced to live at the very center of his
age in religious, political and spiritual terms, and vet what history has
recognized him for is his mystical theology. We see the “ contemporary
significance” in his actions, but “ what w'ould his eternal significance
be,” Izutsu w rites, “ if not the intrinsic significance of his mysticism
itself?”0 The God whom Bernard discusses is a God of love through
and through, and the ultimate state of faith is one in which G o d ’s
closeness to human beings is expressed by the term nuptiae (marriage)
instead of the Greek concept of henosis (union). The Christian spiritu­
ality nurtured bv Bernard led to tbe mysticism of the Carmelite Order
in sixteenth-century Spain, where “ it flow ered into an infinitely elegant
lyricism and, at the same time, wvis thoroughly rationalized bv the rig­
orous logic of John of the Cross,” Izutsu savs, until a perfect “ logic of
the formation of the transcendental subject” w as established.- The cor­
respondence between this statement and the one in the preface to the
revised version of Shinpi tetsugaku cited above is obvious.
 Bernard has been called “ the last of the Church Fathers.’’ As the
greatest mystic of the High Middle Ages, a theologian who constructed
his own unique theology in his sermons on the Old Testament Song
of Songs, which arc songs of “ love,” it was Bernard, not Beatrice, Dan­
te’s eternal love, who would lead the poet to heaven at the end of the
Divine Comedy. Bernard was not a contemplative living a life of peace
and quiet. He established a Catholic monastic order to serve as a sys­
tematic base for the search for truth; he was also a man who put his
ideas into action and did not begrudge becoming involved in the pol­
itics of the day. As his importance in the Church grew, his appeals for
reform would eventuallv move Church administrators.
The Second Crusade — the campaign to take back the Holv Land
in whose genesis Bernard had played a leading role — crossed the Bos­
phorus and headed for the holy city of Jerusalem. Perhaps because he
thought it deviated from his main theme, “ the mvsticism of St Bernard,’’
Izutsu does not mention Bernard’s involvement in the Crusades. If he
had completed this unfinished work, he would surely have mentioned
it. On 31 March 1146, the Good Friday before Faster, with the king of
France seated next to the abbot at Vezelay Abbey, Bernard preached
the significance of the Crusade before a congregation of nobles and
countless soldiers. T he masses spilling out of the abbey fell under the
spell of Bernard’s sermon. So powerful was his language and so full of
conviction his tone of voice, some even thought that heaven w as speak­
ing through Bernard. The new Christian knight “ w ages a two-fold war,”
Bernard had once w'ritten, “ both against flesh and blood and against
a spiritual armv of evil in the heavens.”8 When the sermon was over,
Bernard “ did not so much hand out” crosses as tokens of the Crusade
“ as scatter them around.” When the crosses that had been prepared ran
out, he tore strips of cloth from his own vestments, fashioned them into
crosses and continued to distribute them until the day was over.9
O f course, the figure at the center of this scene is that of a hero
as viewed from the perspective of the Christian Church. For Catho­
lics, Bernard would later become St Bernard. But for Muslims, it must
have seemed that a scourge had risen up against them. To Dante, who
accorded Bernard the highest rank among human beings, Muhammad
w'as litcrallv the enemy of heaven. In Mahometto , his 1952 biographv

no
of the Prophet, Izutsu eites the following passage from the Divine
Comedy.

Gia veggia, per mezzul perdcrc o lulla,

com’ io vidi un, cost non si pertngia,
rotto dal mento infin do\’c si trulla.
Tra lc ganibe pendevan 1 c minngia;
la eorata pareva e ’1 tristo saeeo
ehe merda fi di quel ehe si trangngia.

(No barrel staved-in

And missing its end-pieee ever gaped as wide
As the man I saw split open from his chin
Down to the farting-plaee, and from the splavcd
drunk the spilled entrails dangled between his thighs
I saw his organs, and the sack that makes the bread
We swallow7turn to shit.)10

T h e arrival of M uham m ad was startling. Not just for Europe but

also for the Arabs who worshipped pagan gods, it \\ras an earth-shak­
ing event. In the eyes of Christians, he probably even seemed like the
Devil. As Izutsu says, from today’s perspective, Dante s description
sounds a bit comical, but during Bernard’s lifetime, the raw7 hostility
against Islam was so deep-seated and tenacious that the words cited
above seem totally inadequate.
If a saint is someone who is refined, courageous, devout, humble,
loving and compassionate, Bernard has every one of these attributes,
and yet he does not at all fit the mold. Rather than warm-hearted,
Bernard was passionate, “ a fervent, terrifying, hot-blooded man w ho
burned w'ith a blazing flame that w'ould scorch even heaven itself.”11
No matter w'hat sort of front someone might present to the world, Ber­
nard Nvith a single glance w'ould immediately lav bare the baseness of
the hidden delusions writhing in that person’s innermost heart” — not
because some supernatural pow'er resided wathin him, but because he
more than anyone “ was keenly awrarc of the sins” in his own heart that
lie could not readily disavow.12 It was not the “ St Bernard” who became
an object of veneration that Izutsu was interested in, but rather a man
called Bernard of Clairvaux, from whom, if w ounded, fresh blood
would pour forth from his bodv and his soul. In fact, it was onlv in such
a person, Izutsu believed, that true sanctity would appear.
For Izutsu, w ho called Muhammad a “ hero of the spiritual w'orld,”
the land of the Arabs wras a spiritual homeland and Muslims his broth­
ers. Bernard reviled his hero, sent knights against his homeland and
was responsible for the deaths of untold numbers of his brethren. It
w'ould not have been strange if, out of commiseration for Arabs and
for Muslims, Izutsu had been highly critical of Bernard. Although the
Catholie C h u r c h ’s invasions of the Islamie world, the inhuman v io­
lence inflicted on those of a different faith, mav be condemned as
appalling massacres, today, more than Boo vears later, it is easv to pass
judgment on the age of the Crusades. And yet wrho is capable of decid­
ing what is true or false in the sight of God? When confronting history,
all we are allowed to do is to ask ourselves frankly how would I have
lived had I been born in those times, in that place and under those
circmnstanecs.
In 1939, when he wras tw'cntv-fivc, Izutsu w'rote a long review of
Franeesco Gabrieli’s “ Correnti e figure della letteratura araba contem-
poranea” (Currents and figures in contemporary Arabic literature).1"
Francesco Gabrieli was a leading Italian scholar of Islam. But what is
at issue here is not found in Gabrieli but in a book to w'hich he refers.
La eseatologia musulmana en la Divina Comedia (Islamie eschatol­
ogy in the Divine Comedy ) . 14 As the title suggests, this work, which was
published in Spain in 1919, argues that the thought of the Islamic mys­
tic Ibn ‘Arab! entered the Divine Comedy through certain thcologieal
w orks and that the structure of heaven, purgatory and hell in this poem
are Islamic. Even the poet Dante himself wras unaware that an Islamic
spirituality deeply underlay his owm thought. T h e influence mav
have been indirect, the author wrritcs, but, for that very reason, it wras
unavoidable. Miguel Asm Palacios, a Spaniard, was a professor at the
University of Madrid and an outstanding scholar of medieval Islamic
thought, but he wras also a Roman Catholie priest. In this work, lie
vividly describes how the restoration of the divine world will take place,
transcending religions differences and beyond historical differences —
clans la metahistoire.
The Divine Comedy mav he a classic, hut it is not a sacred text.
And vet those who were able to discuss the matter dispassionatelv, as
though it were merely a cultural matter that an alien culture had found
its way into the Divine Comedy , were not the onlv ones to respond to
Asm Palacios’s thesis. Particularlv w'ithin the Catholic Church, just
as Thomas Aquinas’ Summa theologica laid the theological basis for
Catholicism, the Divine Comedy is read, discussed and defended as a
poetic expression of the Summa , in other words, as the poetic expres­
sion of the pure Catholic faith. The view' that an Islamic spirituality,
which had repcatcdlv excited hostilities that had once led to massacres
on both sides, had found its wav« into the Divine Comedy/ was not read-
ilv accepted. A division of opinion among Dante scholars was only to
he expected, but Asm Palacios’s views caused an even greater sensation
within intellectual and religious circles. Although nearlv 100 vears have
passed since its publication, a final verdict on this hook has yet to he
reached.
Noting that the w'ork had been neglected by the European schol­
arly w'orld, the twcntv-five-vear-old Izutsu w'as positive in his appraisal
of the questions Asm Palacios raised rather than of the theorv itself.
He never changed that assessment. When Izutsu refers to the Divine
Comedy , it must never he forgotten that the Dante he had in mind was
someone wrho had been exposed to, and inevitable had come in con­
tact w ith, a non-Christian mentality. Izutsu’s encounter w'ith La escato-
logia musulmana en la Divina Comedia took place more than ten years
before he w'rote his works on Muhammad and Bernard. For Izutsu,
discussing Dante w'as not just a matter of exploring the Christian tra­
dition; rather, it was an act of restoring to its original state the One
wrho had been divided up into many gods by various religious tradi­
tions. lienee, it wras perhaps only natural for him to discuss the unitary
nature of the Transcendent who rises above religious differences in the
context of a study on Bernard, whom Dante describes w'ith the highest
esteem. Let us look once again at a passage cited earlier.
 Why, one wonders, is the creative agent of eternal life throughout
the entire universe, the Lord-God of all things in heaven and earth,
different among the Creeks and the I Iebrews? Here, too, disputatious
theologians have brought the petty distinctions of their human intelli­
gence into the nature of divinity itself—,as if the itemization of differ­
ences that have great value for their scholarship would naturally have
enormous significance for God as well.15

T h e Hebrew' God is tbe G od of the Old Testament. T h e Greek

G od is the Supreme Being of Plato and Aristotle and Plotinus’ One.
These tw'o gods meet in Christianity. W hen human beings, seeing
G o d ’s different personae, conclude that only their own experience of
God is the truth, a elash of cultures begins. And when cultures clash,
today as in the past, great conflicts ensue. History teaehes how fierce
was the encounter, and the conflict, between the tw'o cultures and the
tw'o “ gods” of Hellenism and Hebraism. Then Islam entered the frav.
An intensification of the conflict was inevitable.
It is wrong to see a belief in religious pluralism in Izutsu’s state­
ment that the Hellenic God and the Hebrew God are merely different
divine personae. What he is speaking of there is the unitary nature of
God, whieh exists beyond the plurality' of gods. His efforts to discover a
deep-level agreement beyond the superficial differences of Hellenism
and Hebraism must he evaluated separately from his achievement in
being the first person in Japan to deal with a giant of medieval mysti­
cism. “ [T]he distinction between the Hellenic God and the Hehraie
G o d ,” he goes on to say, “ was not a divine distinction but, in fact, a
man-made one. The differences are not in God; they are, instead, fun­
damental differences in the attitudes of human beings toward G od.” ’6
What is fundamentally different is not found in God, he adds, hut in
the Greeks’ and Hebrew's’ sense of God.

For both the Greeks and the Hebrews, God could not be anything
other than a “living God,” i.e. a personal God. But if someone were
to say that the Greeks were polytheistic, the I Iebrews monotheistic,
the\' should read the Old Testament and the earliest historical records
that predate the books of the prophets. Thev would then perhaps
 realize that Yahwch, the god of Israel, is merely the god of one small
trihe, just a single war god coexisting and contending with the god of
iMoah, the god of the Philistines, the god of Ammon and many other
pagan gods. One among these many, the god of this one insignificant
trihe, became t h e o n e a n d o n l y God through the faith of the proph­
ets; it was a course of development that would take place over a long
period of time before acquiring that grand and imposing singularity
of a world religion. . . . In the final analysis, the philosophical god of
Plato and Aristotle was nothing other than the absoluteness of the liv­
ing Absolute, i.e. its singularity, which had been pushed to its utmost
limits bv the abstractive process of a rigorous, ruthless l o g o s . 1
This one passage may suggest what would have been the central topic
in the “ Hebrew7 Part,” the unfinished sequel to Shinpi tetsugaku. lzutsu
rejects the view that the Hebrew god was from the verv beginning
the one God. The one out of manvv became “ the one and onlv* G o d ”
through the prophets. 1 know' of no clearer statement of the difference
between polytheism and monotheism than this. Nor have 1 ever before
read a sentence that deals so directly with the fact that the mission of the
prophets wras nothing less than to make manifest the one and only God.
When lzutsu discusses Bernard, he speaks like a monk following
his abbot. And when he discusses Muhammad, lie speaks like a fol­
lower of Muhammad born in the scvcnth-ccnturv Arabian desert. He
spoke of Bernard the mystic, w'ho gave sermons on the Song of Songs,
just as he spoke of Muhammad advancing through the desert on jihad.

Toshihiko lzutsu wrote tw'o studies on Paul Claudel, one entitled

“ Shi to shukyoteki jitsuzon: Kurodcru-ron” (1949; Poetry and religious
existence: On Claudel),” and the other, “ Kurodcru no shiteki sonzai-
ron” (1953; C laud el’s poetic ontology).lS l ie also refers to Claudel in
Roshia hungaku (Russian literature), the precursor to Roshiciteki ningen
(1953; Russian humanity), as w'cll as in his English-language work Lan­
guage and Magic (1956).K) A prominent twcnticth-ccntury French poet,
Paul Claudel wras also a playw'right and an outstanding literary critic.
A literary' light in the France of his day as w'cll as a diplomat, he didn’t
mind speaking out, even occasionally in situations where religion and
polities mixed. Although Izutsu never compared Bernard and Claudel,
the two arc somehow similar. As was true of Bernard, Claudel, too, was
all too human.
Just as the Old Testam ent prophets were poets as well men
entrusted with the word of C o d , Claudel, too, Izutsu writes, was “ a
poet and a prophet”20 and “ a philosopher as well as a poet.” 21 In his first
cssav on Claudel, he describes the poet’s mission; in the second, the
relation of “ Being” and “ beings” — the mystery by which the Transcen­
dent is transformed into all phenomena, including humankind. Izutsu
also puts into writing his praver-like hope that, bv discussing this poet,
he “ may be able to solve the mvsterv of those strange and secret work­
ings of the spirit” that pulsate in poetry.22
“ When 1 read C la u d e l’s poems quietly out loud to myself, 1 feel
with mv whole body their sublime and weightv rhythms that seem
somehow to resonate up from the deep, deep bowels ot the earth, and
unexpectedly I tremble,” Izutsu writes at the beginning of his essay on
poctrv and religious existence.2' Claudel was probably not the onlv
poet who made him feci that wav. Izutsu read poctrv out loud. When
he did so, a poem was not just a work of literature; it became a tribute
offered up to heaven. In it he felt an evocation of Being, the divine
mvsterv of language that prompts the birth of life. Poets do not write
poems to divulge their innermost feelings. Claudel never lost the firm
conviction that through the medium of language he was taking part
in the creation of the world. But he himself does not create. T he poet
only speaks when inspired by the workings of creation. 1

1le is trulv a creative human being, and yet the source of his cre­
ative activity lies hidden in the solitary and secluded subterranean,
metaphysical depths that predate the beginning ot historv. And its
primordial, original nature is, in fact, nothing other than the original
nature of God himself. Claudel is clearly aware that the voice of that
uneannv thing that comes bubbling up from the deep and eternal
fountainhead of all things and assumes the guise of human speech
by passing through his tongue, is the voice of God. In this wav, the
poet takes part in the great task of the creation of the universe and
becomes a co-operator ot God’s providence.24
 More importantly than subjects like joy and anger, birth, old age,
sickness and death, or even beauty, Claudel writes of “ Being.” Just as
“ gods” became “ G o d ” by speaking through the prophets, the poets’ mis­
sion is to bring about the revival of a hidden holiness by writing about
it in their poems. Claudel was a poet who was strongly aware of this
responsibility, Izutsu savs. Although the “ he” in the above quotation is
Claudel, it is no longer Claudel the man. Just as the prophets’ individ­
ual identity ceases when they utter prophecy, poets, too, become the
channel that links the metaphysical world with the phenomenal world.
Claudel has no need of extravagant miracles. I le sees a miracle in
the blooming of a single flower. “ [PJour le simple envoi d’un papillon le
eicl tout enticr cst ncccssairc. Vous ne pouvez comprendre line paquet-
tcrc dans l’herbe, si vous ne comprcncz pas le solcil parmi les ctoiles.”
(For the simple flight of a butterfly you need a whole skv. You cannot
understand a daisy in the grass if you do not understand the sun among
the stars.)2S We arc living in the midst of a miracle at this very moment,
Claudel says. If someone desires the manifestation of an invisible reality,
s/he must have an accurate knowledge of it. In Claudel’s native French
the word meaning “ to know” is coimaitre, w hich contains co-naitre, “ to
be born wi th.”26 “To know' something is to be born wi th it,” Izutsu savs.2
“To know-” is a metaphysical form of cognition, and human beings arc
incapable of achieving it by themselves. If thev could, it would no lon­
ger be possible to call it a metaphysical activity. For Claudel, a meta­
physical activity is not simply a matter of dealing w'ith invisible things;
it means meta-physica, i.c. the supernatural, —the world that transcends
nature, including human beings — in the mysterious sense that Henry
Corbin understood metaphysics, and called wYat w'as bevond the his­
torical dimension metahistoire, meta-history. To come in touch with it,
an invitation from the meta-physica is indispensable.
The meta-physica undoubtedly is also the dimension w'hcrc human
beings make contact with the souls of others. If it is possible to come
in touch with someone else’s soul, the one w'ho does so presumably
docs not doubt the soul’s existence. But the one wTo is touched also
knows s/he has a soul. It is not only a matter of the existence of the
soul. When the w'orld mutually knows one another, it causes internal
holiness to blossom.
 The poet opens his eyes and faees the world; when he docs so, by that
very act alone, the wwld occurs in its analogical nature. All beings,
despite their eye-deeeiving diversity, sense that they ultimately are
bound together by a profound affinity; it is this that is the source of
Claudel’s poetry and philosophy.28

“T he world oeeurs in its analogical nature” —what this passage directs

the attention to is the order inherent in Thom as Aquinas’ analogici
entis. The eoneept that the ereated world by its very existence provides
analogies whereby creatures can understand their Creator occupies a
eentral position in Catholie Christian theology even today. Although it
eertainly forms the theological basis of Catholicism, Izutsu believes that
the analogia entis Claudel pereeives is not a striet theological truth but
an existential one that was supported by his own unshakeable experi­
ence. Claudel did not learn it first theologieallv; he “ felt” it. For him, “ It
\\ras a natural feeling, even an instinct. It is not just a basie principle that
guides his thinking; it fundamentally colors his intuition and his vision
itself.”29 To be sure, these words elearlv express the basis of C la u d e l’s
spirituality, but, independently of this poet, don’t they describe the soul
and his reeolleetions of it of Izutsu himself? Above and beyond being
a student of the mysteries of Being, Izutsu, too, wras a feeling human
being. He verified the authenticity and depth of these feelings by study­
ing them. “ II est legitime de dire qu’il y a dans l’Ange spirituellement
quelque ehose qui correspond a notre organisation physique. . . . Ainsi,
il est permis de dire dans un sens non pas purement metaphorique . . .
que l’Ange voit, qu’il sent, qu’il parle, qu’il respire, . . . qu’il se merit.” (It
is legitimate to say that something that corresponds to our fleshy frame
exists in a spiritual form in angels. Therefore, it is permissible to say in a
not purely metaphorical sense that angels see, feel, speak, breathe and
move.)’0 T h e words are C la u d e l’s but it is Izutsu who eites them. It is
likely he translated the poet’s words here instead of stating his own view’
of angels.
In the earlier of his two studies of Claudel, Izutsu refers to F.R.
Curtius. Curtins was a German who loved French literature even more
than the French did. That was not all; he loved an eternal Europe
as much as he loved his own eountrv. When Curtius w'rites that he
perceives a Geschichtslosigkeit, an “ absence of history” in Claudel, he
is not noting a laek of historical perspective in this poet. “ I le means the
profound and awful primordial nature of eternity, w hich, while in the
verv midst of lime and historv, breaks through the limitations and ren­
ders time and historv equal to nothing.” '1 Claudel, rather, is “ a poet of
eternity,” Izutsu says, a poet who is directly linked to “ qualitative time,”
which exists on a different dimension from the physical temporal axis.
It was mentioned earlier that, in reference to Bernard, Izutsu spoke
of his “ eternal significance.” Claudel wrote poetry the way Bernard
preached. But what is of interest here is not that the words of a saint
and a poet broke through the harriers of the phenomenal w orld and
let in the wand that blow's from the w'orld beyond, hut, rather, that it is
Toshihiko Izutsu himself, w ho fell this wind keenly and gazed intently
on the other world. He did not believe that sermons for a religious
leader, or poems for a poet, were fundamentally different from philos­
ophy for a philosopher. That is the reason in the study of St Bernard,
before we know' it, the philosophers Plato and Aristotle have changed
into prophets.

In the summer of 1922, Curtius visited the abbey of Vezclav, w'herc

Bernard had given his sermon on the Crusade. A few' w eeks later, w'hen
he visited the abbev of Bramveiler, where Bernard had also preaehed
on the obligation of undertaking the Crusade, he saw' the gold broeade
vestments the saint had worn w'hen he gave his sermon. And w'hen he
visited Cologne and saw' the painting of the Madonna and Child with
St Bernard bv the Meister des Marienlcbens, he could not help hut feel
“ die gesehiehtliehe Einheit,” the historical unity of Europe, willing up
in his heart, he said. Curtius was German; Bernard w'as Freneh. The
two countries repeatedly fought one another. A breaeh betw een G er­
man}- and France existed from ancient times. During the First World
War, Henri Bergson had gone so far as to say that the war betw'een
Germany and Franee wras a w'ar between brute foree and moral force.
Memories of the tragedy of the Sceond World War are still fresh today.
Curtius, though a German, loved Franee and believed in a European
spirit and the revival of its “ historical unit}'.” llis friendship w ith Gide
and Valery is w'ell know'n.
 Where Curtins'refers to Bernard is the essay called “ Pontigny.” ’"
At Pontigny, a small village in-the Burgundy region of France, there
had once been a great abbev of the Cistercian order to which Bernard
belonged. T h e monastic buildings were destroyed at the time of the
French Revolution, and only the abbev church remains today. In 1793,
shortly after the revolution, the abbey was dissolved, and in 1906, after
the law on the Separation of Churches and State was enacted, the site
was auctioned off and bought by Paul Desjardins. Professor at the Fcolc
Normale Superiore in Sevres, Desjardins was a first-rate scholar and
critic, Curtins savs. He was also the founder of lTJnion pour la Vcrite
to reunite France, which had been split in two politically, socially and
spiritually at the time of the Dreyfus affair. Desjardins did not buv the
abbey site as a place to li\rc; he intended to use it to bring political and
ecumenical unity to a divided Europe.
Living together far from the noise and confusion of cities, lingering
in the natural beauty, sometimes going for walks, the participants at Pon­
tigny talked individually to one another and deepened their acquain­
tance, then held discussions in the afternoon. Desjardins held the first
ofth ese “ entretiens” there in 1910. These symposia continued until 1914,
resumed in 1922, and were held uninterruptedly thereafter until Desjar­
dins’s death in 1939. Curtius attended the second Pontigny from 1922
on. Whether vou were a scholar, a statesman, a writer or a business­
man, Curtius savs, at Pontigny vou were expected to participate as just
an individual human being. Participants included Gidc and Valery, of
course, German wa iters such as Thomas Mann and Heinrich Mann and
religious philosophers such as Max Seheler. Among the French literary
figures were Jacques Riviere, Roger Martin du Card, Charles du Bos,
Francois Mauriac and even Louis Massignon. Philosophers included
Gaston Baehelard, Gabriel Marcel and Vladimir Jankelevitch. There
were also participants from the English-speaking world such as T.S.
Eliot. Lev Shestov, the Russian who wrote Dostoevsky/ and Nietzsche:
Philosophy of Tragedy (1903), Bcrdvaev and Claudel also attended.
In its conception and implementation as a place for opposing cul­
tures to meet face to face and break through the prevailing confusion,
Pontigny served as the forerunner for the Eranos Conference, in which
Izutsu would later participate and plav an important role. Ernesto
Buonainti, w ho was part of Kranos from its inception, was also a par­
ticipant at Pontignv. I shall perhaps have occasion to refer to him later,
lie was the teacher of the Christian thinker, Krnst Benz, with whom
Izntsn became fricndlv at Kranos, as well as being a spiritual hero of the
voimg Kliadc. It is no accident that the Knglish translation of Curtins’
magnum opus, Luropciisehe Litem hi r unci I z/teinisches Mittelaltcr (1948;
European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages, 1953), was published bv
the Bollingen foundation, which virtually ran the Kranos Conferences.
Kranos first started in 1933, but its founder, Olga Krocbc-Kaptcvn, had
had the experience that might be called the inspiration for it manv vears
earlier. Kranos shared the same Zeitgeist, the revival of the same spiritu­
ality, 1 believe, as that which manifested itself at Pontignv.

The Praxis of Proceeding toward Truth:

Shuzo Kuki and Yoshihiko Yoshimitsu
Just as Izutsu took part in Kranos, a Japanese also participated in Pon­
tignv—the philosopher Shuzo Kuki (1(888-1941), author of Iki no kozo
(1930; The Structure of Iki, 19 9 7 )0 Since the publication of Mcgumi
Sakabe’s ground-breaking book, Luzai no uta: Kuki Shuzo no sekai
(1990; Song of 11011-being: T h e world of Shuzo Kuki),"4 studies bv
Kvfibun Tanaka and others have appeared, but, like Izutsu, Kuki, too,
has been unable to secure his rightful place in the liiston of thought.
Kuki w as a close friend of Soielii Iwashita (1889-1949), w'lio later
became a priest, hvashita was also the first person in modern Japanese
Catholicism w'lio deserves to be called a theologian. Kuki was in love
with Iwashita’s sister and even thought of marrying her; he w as baptized
into the Catholic Church at that time. In the end, she, too, like her
brother, entered the Church, and nothing came of their relationship.
Some critics, w'lio hold Kuki in high esteem, think this unrequited love
had a lasting impact on Kuki, but that baptism had no effect 011 his
mentality. But 1 believe, rather, that his romantic attachment drew' him
closer to Catholicism, and it is precisely for that reason that vestiges of
it were deeply impressed in him. Kvcn though he w rites in Propos sur
le temps (1928; “ Considerations 011 time,” 1997), “ I do not believe . . .
in a life after death in the Christian sense,” "5 the intellectual issue of

HI
Kukis relationship to Catholicism should be reconsidered, I think, for
the fruits of that encounter do'not necessarily take the form of a direct
discussion of a Catholic worldview. Even in the life of a philosopher,
metaphysical events mav occur independently of the stud}’ of meta­
physics. Here, too, 1 believe, the words of Izutsu arc true: “ Metaphysics
should come after a metaphysical experience.” ’6
The two lectures that Kuki gave at Pontignv in 1928, “ La notion du
temps et la reprise sur lc temps cn orient” (The notion of time and rep­
etition in Oriental time) and “ Lfexpression dc l’infiniti dans Part jap-
onais” (The expression of the infinite in Japanese art), were published
in France as Propos sur le temps. Kuki sent a copv to Kitaro Nishida,
who praised it highly in a letter to Hajimc Tanabc (1889-1962), another
philosopher of the Kyoto School. This was a work in which its author
gives expression to his own interests in a language that is not his own,
presenting content with worldwide appeal. In that sense, M egum i
Sakabe says, its significance is equal to the w orks of Kcinzo Uchimura,
Inazo Nitobe and Tenshin Okakura, who were influential in introduc­
ing Japan to the West in the late nineteenth and early twentieth cen­
turies. Sakabe also regards Propos sur le temps highly, and not just for
the special place it occupies in Kuki’s oeuvre; he considers it his most
important work. Kuki and Izutsu arc on the same scholarly plane in
having books that deserve to be called their main wrorks in both English
(or French) and Japanese and in being active internationally as a result.
Kuki studied w ith Heidegger; indeed, it was Kuki who made Sar­
tre aw'are of Heidegger’s existence. Izutsu wrould later cite Sartre and
Heidegger as the quintessential philosophers of the modern era and,
in “ Existentialism East and West,” he discussed both their differences
from SabzawarT, the nineteenth-century Islamic mystic philosopher,
as wrell as an intellectual closeness to him that transcends time and
space.’7 On this point, too, there is a strand of intellectual historv that
connects Shuzo Kuki writh Toshihiko Izutsu. It is not that the two men
studied philosophers who dealt w'ith “ Being” and “ existence,” but rather
that, under that influence, they both went on to construct philosophies
of their owti. 'The two are also close to one another in their awareness
of a realm called the Orient. At the beginning of “ La notion du temps
ct la reprise sur le temps en orient,” Kuki savs his discussion will be
about “ Oriental time,” and writes that it is time which repeats itself
(the time of transmigration) and transcends physical time. As was also
the ease for Izutsu, the Orient Kuki is speaking of here is a mnlti-lav-
ered semantic construct that is both a geographical region and a spiri­
tual dimension.
In the temporal dimension capable of measurement, “ time has
three modes o f ‘cestasis,’ of being ‘outside itself: the future, the present,
the past.” 's Time occurs by developing ecstatically, i.e. outside itself, in
each of these directions. But future, present and past are all confined to
the coordinate axis of time, and an ecstcisis that does not make a dimen­
sional leap is merely a “ horizontal” ecstcisis. Thus, in addition to this
horizontal cestasis, Kuki posits a vertical ecstcisis that should be called
an atemporal or trans-temporal cestasis. “ [T]his cestasis is no longer
phenomenological, rather it is mystical. . . . [T]he horizontal plane rep­
resents the ontologieo-phenomenologieal cestasis, the vertical plane
the metaphysieo-mystieal cestasis.” '9 Kuki seems to be the first person
to have thoroughly digested the Heideggerian concept of ecstatic time
and to be able to speak about it in his own words. On the other hand,
what is also worth noting is that he recognizes the place where cestasis
occurs on what he calls the mystiea i Piane that goes bevond the phe­
nomenological realm in the narrow' sense.
We have already seen that ekstcisis along with enthousiasmos are
kev terms in Shinpi tetusgciku. Izutsu, too, uses the word ekstcisis pre­
sumably in response to Heidegger’s Sein and Z eit (1927; Being and
1 ime, 1962) and Sartre’s L'Etre et le necint (1943; Being and Nothing­
ness., 1956), but the reason his usage differs from that of both Heideg­
ger and Sartre is that he is dealing with ecstatic sensations as personal
expressions based on his own empirical, i.e. ascetic, practices. The
same thing occurs in Kuki.

[The self] a1wavs recommences its life anew in order to finish anew.
. . . A continuity of self] is a continuity which reweals itself only in
mystical moments, the profound moments of a “profound enlighten­
ment,” moments in w'hich the self takes recognition of itself w'ith an
astonishing shudder. “The self exists” at the same time that the “self
does not exist.”40
“ [OJnlv in mystical moments . . . of a ‘profound en lighten m ent,’
moments in whieh the self hikes recognition of itself with an aston­
ishing shudder” — this is not the mental state of a philosopher as we
know it, but of what Izutsu calls a mystic. “ If philosophy is the praxis of
proceeding toward the Truth and the praxis of coming back from the
Truth, only the genuine mvstie has the qualifications to be a genuine
philosopher,” he says in Shinpi tetsugaku 41 T he “ praxis of proceeding
toward the Truth,” in other words, is nothing less than experiencing
eestasv in a dimension in whieh one has aeeess to the “ praxis of coin­
ing back from the Truth.” If philosophy can be defined as that which
first provides a logical system for one’s own fundamental issues and
existential experiences, and only after that deals with objective matters,
then Kuki and I/mtsu are among the few philosophers, in the true sense
of the word, in the tradition of Kitaro Nishida.

Izutsu said in a colloquy with Shusaku Fndo that he had often read
the works of Yoshihiko Yoshimitsu. A “ forgotten” thinker today, Yoshi-
hiko Yoshimitsu (1904-1945) was a philosopher who played an active part
not only in prewar religious circles but also in the worlds of literature and
journalism. He represented Catholic intellectuals at the 1942 Overcom­
ing Modernity symposium, attended bv the leading thinkers of the day.42
Yoshihiko Yoshimitsu was born in 1904 in what is nowTokunoshima,
Kagoshima Prefecture. In 1927, he heeame acquainted with Father Soi-
chi Iwashita and was baptized into the Catholie Chureh. His life there­
after changed dramatically. In the following year, 1928, he translated
Jaeques Maritain’s Elements de philosophie (1920; Introduction to Phi­
losophy, 1930).4" Yoshimitsu was twenty-four at the time. T he next year
he went to France and studied under Maritain himself. As a leading
nco-Thomist advocating the renascence of Thomas Aquinas’ thought,
Maritain had enormous influence in French intellectual circles as
well as w ithin the Catholie Chureh itself. After Yoshimitsu returned to
Japan, he spoke widely, introducing the traditions and current state of
Furopean Catholicism to a Japanese audienee.
Not just Shusaku Fndo, but the poet Hideo Nomura (1917-1948)
and crities sueh as Yasuo Ochi (1911-1961), Ilisanori Tsujino (1909­
1937), Shin’ichiro Nakamura (1918-1997) and Shuichi Kato (1919-2008)
were strongly influenced by Voshihiko Yoshimitsu. lie also had friend­
ships with writers such as Tatsuo llori (1904-1953), llidco Kobavashi
and Kazuo Watanahc (1901-1975). Contributors to the Catholic literary
magazine Creation (Kdzo), where he served as cditior-in-chicf, included
Tetsutaro Kawakami (1902-1980), Toshihiko Katavania (1898-1961) and
Slioimi Nohori (1878-1958). The period in which lie was active lasted
from 1930 until his illness in 1944, not quite fifteen years, hut it can he
called Japan’s Catholic Renaissance.
Izutsu’s Arabia shisoshi (Mistorv of Arabic thought) was published
in 1941; it seems uulikclv that Yoshimitsu would not have read this
historical overview of Islamic thcologv and philosophy, the first to he
written by a Japanese. Yoshimitsu had a personal interest in flallaj, the
legendarv svmbol of Sufism. In fact, the first person in Japan to discuss
the latent intellectual significance of this extraordinarv mvstic was not
Izutsu hut Yoshimitsu, who, in 1943, referred to flallaj in “ Shinpishugi
no keijijogaku” (The metaphysics of A lystik).^ It would he five vears
later, in 1948, that Toshihiko Izutsu would discuss him in Arabia tet-
sugaku (Arabic philosophv). Yoshinori Moroi’s studv of the development
of religious mysticism, which likewise discussed flallaj, was published
in 1966, the last work to do so to the present daw No studies of flallaj to
rank with theirs have come out since. Farlier I mentioned flallaj and
Massignon. Izutsu never met Massignon, hut Yoshimitsu did several
times while he was studying in France. Maritain hosted a salon at his
home in Meudon, which Massignon attended. Though Yoshimitsu at
the time was impressed by Massignon’s character, he had no deep inter­
est in his scholarship or in the non-Catholie flallaj, he said. Thirteen
vears after his return to Japan would pass before Yoshimitsu commented
on Massignon and Hallaj.
In “ Shinpishugi no keijijogaku,” Yoshimitsu deals with Plotinus,
aneient esoteric Indian thought as represented by Sankara and the yoga
of Patanjali, flallaj and Sufism, as well as Christian mysticism down to
John of the Cross. Few' studies since can surpass it in the farsightedness
and impartiality of his grasp of mysticism in Fastern and Western spir­
ituality or in the subjectivity of his discussion. The largest number of
pages in Shinpi tetsugaku are denoted to the mystic philosophv of Ploti­
nus. Toshihiko Izutsu’s interest in Plotinus grew’ steadily oxer the vears.
That Patahjali, Sankara and other ancient Indian thinkers had long
been the objects of Izutsu’s i-ntercst is also clear in Ishiki to tetsugaku
(1983; Consciousness and essenee). And Izntsu had planned to make a
stud\’ of John of the Cross. The interests of Izutsu and Yoshimitsu were
surprisingly similar.
But even more important than the congruence of the topies they
discussed is the attitude of the two men toward mysticism. Yoshimitsu
alludes to the impossibility of defining mysticism in “ Shinpishugi to
nijisseki shiso” (Mystik and twentieth-century thought). “ Beginning a
diseussion by asking what is the precise definition of'M ystik' or ‘mysti­
cism,’ the translations of shinpishugi, is not particularly meaningful.”45
When defining mysticism, someone may grope for “ a nominal etymo­
logical answer” and seek its origins in ancient Greece. Someone else
may attempt to offer an “ aecount of the phenomenological essence”
of mystical thought or of mystical experiences past and present, Bast
and West. But “ the former does not explain anything as to content,”
Yoshimitsu says, and, “given the overabundance of phenomena, the lat­
ter eannot avoid arriving at an arbitrary conclusion.”46 Izutsu deals with
the same topic at the beginning of Shinpi tetsugaku.

If books entitled “The Philosophy of Mysticism” have to begin first of

all by giving a definition of the terms “mystical philosophy” or “mysti­
cism” themselves, people are all the more likely to end up becoming
addicted from the outset to this childish, meaningless game. For it
belongs to the essenee of mvstieism to transeend absolutely and posi­
tively refuse to answer the logical question: What is it?4”

What Izutsu may have feared is having the word “ mysticism” sig­
nify a particular ideology or dogma. I le considers it appropriate to call
what is popularly known as mysticism a via mystica. And yet, “ despite
the fact that [the via mystica] is elearly an experience of human beings,
it is by no means a purely human experience,” he says. “ Rather, some­
thing greater than a human being takes possession of the human soul
and eomes to pass.”+s Just as Izutsu speaks of the via mystica, Yoshimitsu
uses the German word A Ivstik
✓ to avoid the term “ mvstieism.”
» Izutsu’s
Shinpi tetsugaku has a ehapter entitled “ Shizen shinpishugi no slmtai”
(The subject of Naturmystik); the topie of the subjeet in Mystik is one
that Yoshimitsu delves deeply into in his study of the metaphysics of
mysticism. Yoshimitsifs “ mystical person” or A lysiik is identical to the
“ mystic” or the via mystica in Shinpi letsugciku.
“ 'True Mvstik is not the self-contemplation of an ideal self,”
Yoshimitsu believes; “ it must always t z be an existential experience
(cognition) in which the Source of our mind (soul) posits his own exis­
tence.” And there must also he “ an affirmation in it of the highest love
of creative spirituality.”49 The mystical experience is not one in which
human beings know themselves; it is an event in which the Source
of the soul, the Transcendent himself, reveals his own existence; the
workings of w hat deserves to be called sublime love must overflow' in
it, be savs.
“The most profoundly mystical person is also the most profoundly
active person,” Yoshimitsu w'rote at the conclusion of “ Shinpishugi no
keijijogaku. s° It should come as no surprise that similar words are also
found in Izutsu’s Shinpi tetsugaku. Recall this passage in Shinpi tet-
sugaku that deals with the mystic’s truth.

No matter how blissful the contemplation of the Ideas niav be for

him, lie is not allowed to remain forever in the peace and tranquilitv
of this transcendental world. After he has mastered the hidden depths
of ultimate Being, he is charged with the sacred clutv to come back
down once again to the mundane world and serve bis fellow human
beings.'’1
Father Joseph Roggendorf, wrho wras a close friend of Izutsu, bad a
indirect relationship with Yoshimitsu through bather Hermann Heu-
vers. Had Yoshimitsu lived longer, perhaps he and Izutsu would have
had friendly conversations about Massignon and Hallaj.

Izutsu’s Influence on Christians:

Shusaku Hndo, Yoji Inouc and Takako Takahashi
Izutsu’s personal history is not the only reason for thinking that the
issue of his relation to Christianityj cannot be overlooked. There is also
the fact that people with deep connections to C atholicism —Yasuo
Ochi, Shusaku Kudo, Yfiji Inouc and Takako Takahashi — responded
extremely strongly to Izutsu’s w ritings and translations. M any people
in the fields of philosophy, religions studies, linguistics, Islamic studies,
Buddhist studies and literature were also deeply moved by him. Nor
were thev confined to Japan; even today there are readers of Izutsu all
over the world. Even so, the fact that the abovementioned group of
people with deep ties to Catholicism reacted so strongly to Izutsu has a
special significance since it sheds light on an aspect of this philosopher
that has not been much discussed.
Yasuo Ochi is probablv not verv well known todav. A poet and a
critic, be was born in 1911 and died in 1961 at the age of fortv-nine.
Although nothing of his came out during his lifetime, two vears after
his death, a posthumous work, Koshoku to hana (Sensuality and flow­
ers), was published by Chikuma Shobo with the support of his friends
and moved not only such literarv figures as Mitsuo Nakamura (1911—
1988) and Kenkiehi Yamamoto (1907-1988), who knew him while he
was alive, but also Ken I lirano (1907-1978), Toshio Shimao (1917-1986)
and Yoji In o u e T Oehi followed in the footsteps ofYoshihiko Yoshim-
itsu; he was, I believe, an outstanding literarv critic who, in addition to
his superb study of llideo Kobayashi, deserves special mention even
now for tbe works of bis early period on Claudel and Gabriel M ar­
cel that are permeated with Catholic spirituality.Shusaku Endo, who
started out as a critic, thought highly of Yasuo Ochi as his predecessor.
Oehi made an in-depth study of Martin D ’Arey’s The M ind and
Heart o f Love, \yhieh Izutsu translated.54 (A colleague of Izutsu’s at
Keio University, Masao Matsumoto [1910-1998], also discussed this
work, but dealt with the original rather than Izutsu’s translation of it.)
O ehi’s “ ‘Are ka kore ka’ to ‘Are mo kore m o’: Dashl no Ai no rogosu to
patosu o yomu” (‘This or that’ and ‘this and that’: Reading D ’Arev’s The
M ind and Heart of Love) is the only example of what could be called
a critique of the Japanese translation, although in it Ochi is discussing
D ’Arey’s ideas and shows no direct interest in the translator.55 Presum­
ably Oehi was unaware of Toshihiko Izutsu the philosopher. Martin
D ’Arey was a leading twentieth-century English thinker; in his pub­
lic capacity, he bore the heavy responsibility of being Provincial of tbe
English Province of the Society of Jesus, one of the largest religious
orders in the Catholic Church. Izutsu met D ’Arev in 1953, when the
latter came to Japan at the invitation of the Japan Committee for Intel­
lectual Interchange, and personally asked his permission to translate
this book. As might be expected in light of this personal request, there
arc several passages in this work that could be mistaken for Izutsu’s
own. One such passage is as follows.

[T]he mystery religions of the Hast encountered the philosophy of

Greece, and out of this encounter came a new' religious philosophy
or philosophic religion. . . . The Greek wisdom had no contacts with
earth; its happiness was in reason and thought and the fruits of these.
The mystery religion, on the other hand, was the child of passion
and it lived on passion. The madness which love excites was changed
from a brutal passion into an ecstasy, a divine fren/.v.'’6
D ’Arcy believes that Greek philosophy was a “ new religious philosophy
or phil osophic religion” rather than the academic study that it is today.
Had these words been found in Shinpi tetsugaku, not only would there
have been no inconsistency, they clearly express the kev theme of that
work, i.e. the relation between philosophy and God. “ [I]t mav well be
. . . that many find the true God by becoming initiates of this uneov-
enanted mysticism,” D ’Arev says.157 This statement predates Vatican II
and was made at a time when Catholicism publicly called other reli­
gions heresies. D ’Arev deserves full credit for such fair and impartial
views.
The M ind and Heart of Love \\ras published in 1945; Shinpi tet­
sugaku came out four years later in 1949. Izutsu mav have already read
this book by then. Seeing that Ochi does not let this passage go unno­
ticed but responds to it, it seems fair to think that O ehi’s allusion to
the central idea of Shinpi tetsugaku, even if it is via D ’Arev, establishes
an invisible intersection between these two Japanese contemporaries.
D ’Arcv’s book should be read not only as a philosophical work on the
changing nature of love, but as “ an extremely bold attempt at ontol­
ogy,” which pursues the basic principle of Being, love, Izutsu writes
in bis translator’s introduction.58 Love does not emanate from human
beings; it is born from Being alone. T he idea that to reflect on love is
to reflect on Being itself is in keeping with the theme of O ehi’s book,
Koshoku to liana.
 The M ind and'Heart of Love is a study of anim a , Oehi writes. It
was Jung who brought the word anima back into contemporary usage.
D ’Arcv deals with anima and often mentions Jung, but the animci that
Jung talks about is a form of the human soul. For D ’Arey—and for his
translator Toshihiko Izutsu — anima, rather, is understood to be the
basic principle that animates the human soul. Anima is spirit and ani­
mus is soul. Anima is a persona or manifestation of the Transcendent;
animus symbolizes tbe human being who partially possesses it. “ [F]or
au fond he [Animus] knows well . . . that all the fortune belongs to
Anima, and that he is a beggar, and lives on what she gives him,” writes
D ’Arev, citing the words of C lau d el.59 To be is itself already an act of
grace, Claudel would probably say. Oehi and Izutsu intersect with one
another through Claudel.
Perhaps as a result of this work, in 1952, D ’Arcv took part in the
Eranos Conferen ce when Jung was in a leadership position. At the
time, it required considerable resolve for a Catholic priest to participate
in Eranos. Today the Catholie Church has criticized Eranos in an offi­
cial statement.60 It would be fifteen years after this that Izutsu attended
the Eranos Conference. D ’Arey eame to Japan the year after he had
been at Eranos. One wonders whether he talked about that gathering
with Toshihiko Izutsu.

When Toshihiko Izutsu died, Shusaku Endo openly expressed his

indignation that Izutsu had not been given his due. He seems to have
begun reading Izutsu in earnest around the time of Isurdmu tetsugaku
no genzo (1980; T h e original image of Islamic philosophy) or Ishiki
to honshitsu (1983; Consciousness and essenee). 11 is encounter with
the latter work, in particular, seems to have made a great impact; he
was sorry to finish reading it, he wrote. E n d o ’s long essay, W atakushi
no aishita shosetsu (1985; A novel 1 have loved), is ostensibly about
Francois M auriac’s Therese Desqueyroux,6’ but when it first eame out
in serialized form, it was ealled “ Shukvo to bungaku no tanima d e”
(Between religion and literature), and the work’s contents seem eloser
to the original title. In this essay, aided by bis reflections on Izntsu’s
Koran o yomu (1983; Reading the Koran), Endo discusses the theory of
literary archetypes. What Izutsu calls an archetype is not unrelated to
the archetype in Jungian psycholog)', but its domain is far broader and
deeper. An archetype for Izutsu is not a category with which to clas­
sify psychological phenomena; rather, it is the way by which human
beings return to their origin, the path that the soul takes to he trans­
formed into spirit and vice versa, i.e. the passageway through which
Spirit makes its appearance in the phenomenal world. No holy hooks
exist without passing through archetypes nor are there any myths with­
out them. Although stories about God or the gods can be said to have
been revealed through archetypes, the fact is, rather, that it is only by
passing through archetypes that we can have access to the incorporeal,
transcendent reality that is God. Archetypes arc the birthplace of holy
scripture —or the site of its manifestation.
Another concept that moved Endo deeply was that of “ linguistic
alayci-rijnancr in Ishiki to honshitsu. In the depths even deeper than
alaxa-vijiicina, which is the bottom of consciousness in the Yogacara
(consciousness-only) school of Mahavana Buddhism, Izutsu presup­
poses the existence of a deep layer that he calls the “linguistic alaya-con-
sciousness.” AJ aya-consciousncss means “ storehouse consciousness,”
but Izutsu sees in it an even greater function than that of a simple store­
house. This is where the birth of meaning occurs; it is nothing less than
the point of contact between consciousness and Being.
Endo refers to linguistic alcivci-consciousness in a tribute to tbe
memory of Hideo Kobavashi. In it he defines a writer as someone who
has seen firsthand the realm of linguistic u/uytf-consciousncss and
describes it in his/her own words. At that time, Endo only used the
key words “ linguistic clIay a-consciousness” without mentioning that the
term was derived from Toshihiko Izutsu, but bv purposefully referring
to linguistic aJaya-consciousness while discussing Kobayashi’s work
on Motoori Norincigci, he is clearly suggesting that the minds of Hideo
Kobavashi and Toshihiko Izutsu have some invisible but high degree
of agreement and resonance. I mentioned earlier that Shusaku Endo
thought highly of Yasuo Ochi. O c h i’s most important work was on
Hideo Kobavashi. Although Toshihiko Izutsu s name docs not appear
there, what becomes clear in reading O chi’s work is the place where
Hideo Kobavashi and Toshihiko Izutsu meet. On this level, the proper
names Hideo Kobavashi and Toshihiko Izutsu cease to he names of
individuals w'ith their own personal histories and become synonyms for
a spirit that inquires into the mysteries of reality’, sanctity and being.

The Catholic priest, Yoji Inouc, read the works of Izutsu at the rec­
ommendation of a friend. It is easy to guess that the friend in question
was Shusaku Endo. T he two of them had been close friends and kin­
dred spirits ever since their student days in France shortly after the war.
On the impact of his encounter with Izutsu, Inoue wrote the following
in his study of the Apostle Paul, Kirisuto o hcikonda otoko (1987; T he
man who carried Christ).

lie very clearly explained, as if pointing out my location on a map,

why, ever since my student days in France, I had always felt a dis­
tress akin to a sense of spiritual pressure or suffocation when forced
to accept European Christianity, or why, for some reason, 1 felt an
interest in the thought of Motoori Norinaga and had so much sympa­
thy for Basho.62

“ Bv coming in contact with the theology of Ibn ‘Arab!,’’ he goes on

to say, “ it seemed as though 1 had been given a sure guarantee to the
direction of the Japanese Christian theology and spirituality I had been
searching for up until now'.”63 Izutsu’s influence on Inoue is remarkably
strong.
What Inoue found in Izutsu was a yiewr that goes beyond panthe­
ism. Panentheism was mentioned earlier in the discussion of Flallaj.
Izutsu dynamically develops this topic in his English-language mag­
num opus, Sufism and Taoism. There is a connection between panen­
theism — the view that G o d is both transcendent and im m ancntly
present in the world — and the three persons of the Trinity. It is not
possible to know the Trinity, Augustine said, but it is made clear bv
living and believing in it. When explaining the mvstcrv of the Trinity,
Inoue often uses the metaphor of w ater as a symbol for the Absolute.
Hot w'ater, ice and steam arc all w'ater that has changed its form, he
savs. The same metaphor is also found in Izutsu’s wrork.
Dissatisfaction with medieval Christian theology and its doctrines
centered on a paternal God; the discovery of G o d ’s maternal nature in
the life of Christ; and finding the core of the Gospel in the rapproche­
ment between these two natures - that is the spirituality of Shfisaku
Kudo and Yoji Inone. Tnknko Takahashi (1932- ), on the other hand,
tries to go hack to a medieval Kuropean spirituality. Inevitably, this
would produce differences between her, on the one hand, and Kudo
and Inone, on the other. As a reader of l/.utsu, Takako Takahashi has a
different image of the philosopher than Kudo and Inone had.
What she responded most sensitively to is Toshihiko Izutsu’s treat­
ment of consciousness. In Ishiki to sonzai no nazo (1996; 'The riddle of
consciousness and existence), when she speaks of the Christian mvstic
Teresa of Avila, her words evolve through a deepening of contempla­
tion into a discussion of salvation/’4 Takahashi is particularly fond of
Julien Green, and her diary, like that of Green, is a work of art in itself.
Toshihiko Izutsus name appears in the entry for 2 November 2002.

After 1 had studied the complexities and subtleties of the depths of

human consciousness from the Christian mystics in Trench during
the 1980s, these matters were reinforced alter mv return to japan bv
the works of Toshihiko l/.utsu, and around the time that 1 took up mv
pen again, 1 had the feeling that what I was writing about was ahead
of its time.6'’
At one time she had stopped writing and gone to Prance with the inten­
tion of becoming a nun. When she started writing again, what sup­
ported her were the Christian mystics. The voices of those mystics were
deepened and strengthened through her reading of Toshihiko Izutsu
and finally led her beyond the phenomenal world.
As we saw earlier, there had been a colloquy between Shfisaku
Kudo and Toshihiko Izutsu. Try to imagine what a colloquy between
Toshihiko Izutsu and Takako Takahashi might have been like. Perhaps
Izutsu would have told Takahashi, who had spent time in a convent,
the thoughts on Christian mysticism that he had never put in writing.
A passage in her diary reads, “ I took a splendid biography of St Bernard
out of the library and read it through in a single sitting. . . . St Bernard
- what a wonderful man!” (entry for 30 December 2002).66 Perhaps she
and Izutsu would have exchanged ideas about Bernard.
J
 Words and WORD

The Position of Islam in Izutsu’s Scholarship

OSH1HIKO IZUTSU attracted widespread attention after his return
from Iran in 1979. He had written several hooks prior to that, of
course, and was well known in certain circles, but compared to the
interest and attention he generated especial!)' after Ishiki to honshitsu
(1983; Consciousness and essence), it would have to be said that the
degree to w'hieh he had been known before then was limited. On the
other hand, as his name recognition increased, so did the number
of people who called him a scholar of Islam, despite the fact that lie
always described himself as a philosopher of language.
Izutsu’s return to Japan was sudden and unexpected, an event
brought about by the intensifying of the Iranian revolution under the
Avatollah Khomeini. From the Japanese perspective, it was impossible
to understand w'hv the revolution had been inevitable; it wras regarded
as a political step backward to theocracy or even as an anachronism.
Hence, the Japanese media were eager to ask Toshihiko Izutsu, who
had just returned from there, to w'ritc or speak about Islam. Coinci­
dentally, books in Japanese bv Izutsu on Islam-related subjects were
coming out sporadically around that time: Isuramu seitan (1979; The
birth of Islam), Isuramu tetsugaku no genzo (19(80; The original image
of Islamic philosophy), Isuramu bunka (1981; Islamic culture) and
Koran o yowu (1983; Reading the Koran). If the lectures and colloquies
given in this period arc included, his pronouncements on Islam would
increase still further. These discussions, backed up by existential expe­
rience, enthralled his listeners and readers. If lie was referred to as a
world-renowned scholar, popidar opinion had no doubt that it must be
in Islamic studies.
Almost as if he had expected as much, Izutsu quietly resisted
being labeled a “ scholar of Islam.” In the brief biography appended
to Isurdmu tetsugakn no genzo, which was published the year after his
return, he wrote: “ specialty: philosophy, semantics.” Even in a book
with the expression “ Islamic philosophy” in the title, he refused to call
himself a specialist in Islam. Although he did include “ Islamic philos­
ophy'” among his list of specialties in the works after Ishiki to honshitsu
such as hn 'i no fukami e (1985; To the depths of meaning), which came
out after his scries of books on Islam, including the one just cited, lie
never forgot to add “ philosophy of language” before it.
As a glance at his selected works shows, it would be inaccurate to
define Izutsu as an Islamic specialist. Shinpi tetsugaku (1949; Philoso­
phy of mysticism) was a study of the history of Greek mystical thought,
but it was also the spiritual last will and testament of a poet-philoso­
pher, written with an acute consciousness of his own mortality. Around
the time he wrote “ Roshia no naimenteki seikatsu” (1948; Interior life
in Russia) for the magazine Kosei (Individuality), he seems to have
had an inner awareness of himself as a literary critic. T he writing style
of his studies of Russian literature beginning with Roshiateki ningen
(1953; Russian humanity), or those on poetry that dealt with Claudel
(1949 and 1953), and even Mahometto (1952), whose subject was the
Prophet M uham m ad, could all appropriately be described as literary
criticism. As he himself stated, Mahometto was not a work of scholar­
ship; it should perhaps be read as a hymn of praise to his spiritual hero
and a confession of his inner thoughts, in other words, as what Baude­
laire calls “ criticism.” Finally, to read his first English-language book,
Language and Magic (1956), and the notes taken on “ Introduction to
Linguistics,” the lectures he gave over a more than fivc-vcar period at
Kcio University, is to realize that the issue of language — or W O R D , to
use the expression lie would later adopt, — underlies the formation ot
his thinking. This was the period in which he was a linguist; thereafter,
lie metamorphosed into a linguistic philosopher.
Kven his translations of the Koran (1957/8 and 1964) were not sim­
ply the fruits of his study of Islam. They were nncc|iiiyocally works of
philosophical semantics, attempts to put his ideas on the philosophy of
language into practice. 1 1is Knglish-langnagc work, The Structure of the
Ethical 'Terms in the Koran: A Study in Semantics (1959), which came
out the year after the publication of his first translation of the Koran, is
more an experiment with a full-scale semantic study played out against
the background of the Koran than it is a treatment of key Koranic terms.
It is not intended to be a work on Islamic linguistic philosophy; its sub­
ject is, as the subtitle says, “A Study in Semantics.” When this work was
translated into Japanese by Shiu ’va Makiuo in 1972, it was published
under the title hni no kozo: Koran ni okeru shfikvo dotoku guinea no
hunseki ( The structure of meaning: An analysis of religious and ethi­
cal concepts in the Koran).1 The Japanese title is a clearer and more
straightforward description of the hook’s contents than the Knglish title
is. Perhaps Izutsu had an emotional attachment to this monograph, for
when it was included in his selected works, lie cxtcnsiycly rewrote the
first four chapters. On that occasion, he alluded to his aim in writing
the work and added that he had done so “ as part of an cffectiyc way
to come to grips with dealing semantically with the ethical and moral
concepts in the Koran.”2 In this passage, written tow'ard the end of his
life, we should be able to get a clear reading of his intentions from the
fact that he specifically emphasized the word “semantically.”
The following passage is from the foreword to Isuraniu seitan, which
was written in 1979, less than half a year after his return from Iran.

Around the time I wrote this book \G od and M a n in th e K o r a n :

(1964)], I was thinking

S e m a n tic s o f the K o ra n ic W e lt a n s c h a u u n g

about trying to devise methodologically something that might he

ealled semantic sociology or, more generally, a semantic hermeneu­
tics of civilization, making use of the German linguistic tradition of
semantics as represented by Weisgerber and others. And in order to
clarify the analytic method —which at first was still hazv hut whose
outline little by little was beginning to appear —by applying it to
 specific material," l took up as mv subject matter the Koran, the holy
book of Islam. Such was tbe^iim for which this book was written; in
short, it was a preliminary essay to determine, after my own fashion, a
methodological range for a semantic hermeneutics.3

T he words “ a preliminary essay to determine, after my own fashion, a

methodological range for a semantic hermeneutics” should be taken at
face value. His scholarly focus was clearly on “ a semantic hermeneu­
tics” and not on Islam.
The fact remains, however, that Toshihiko Izutsu’s achievements in
the study of Islam are recognized not just domestically but internation­
ally as well. Japanese research on Islam, led bv Shfnnei Okawa, Koji
Okubo and others at the dawn of Islamic studies in Japan, changed
greatly with the arrival of Toshihiko Izutsu. Izutsu was not the only
Japanese who understood Arabic at that time. But not only could he
read Arabic texts, he extensively read the w orks of Western scholars in
their original languages and was the first to describe Islam in Japanese
as an Oriental spiritual impulse that had been formed subsequent to
but in close conjunction with Hellenism, Hebraism and Christianity.
As well as being the first Japanese to write a book on the history of
Islamic thought from the birth of the Koran to Averroes in the twelfth
century (Arabia shis*shi [1941; History of Arabic thought]), he was also
the first Japanese to make a complete translation of the Koran from
the original Arabic. He became a professor at M c G ill University in
Montreal, Canada, an internationally renowmed center for the study
of Islamic thought, and, w'hen it opened a branch in Tehran, he went
to Iran at their request. In 1978, when his Japanese translation of Mulla
Sadra’s Kitab al-M ashd'ir (Book of metaphysical penetrations) was
published,4 with the exception of Henry Corbin and a few others, even
the Islamic world had forgotten the existence of this seventeenth-cen­
tury mystic philosopher. Izutsu w'rote that, in the near future, Mulla
Sadra would attract worldwide attention, and these words came true.
Toshihiko Izutsu left original achievements in the field of Islamic
thought: his Fmglish-language research on Ibn ‘Arab! in Sufism and
Taoism (1966-1967), of course, as well as such wrorks as The Concept
and Reality of Existence (1971) on Sabzaw'arT, the nineteenth-eenturv
mystic philosopher who followed in Ibn ‘Anibf’s fooisieps and whom
lie dealt with svnchronically, showing how his philosophy of existence
intersected with the existentialism of I Icidcgger and Sartre.
In tandem with these activities, during this period, Izutsu gave
lectures and seminars at prominent Islamic institutions, including the
Institute of Ismaili Studies, the research center in London run bv the
Ismail is, an offshoot of the Sln’itc sect. Although he certainly displayed
exceptional ability in his research on Islam, that is no reason to limit
his area of expertise to that field. Even in the studies that focused on
Islam, his gaze was always directed to the “ Orient” bevond. Sufism and
'Taoism is a good example. While dealing with Ibn ‘Arab! as a repre­
sentative thinker of Sufism, a form of Islamic mvsticism, he simultane­
ously developed his ideas on the Taoism of Lao-tzu and Clmang-tzu,
and made a thorough examination of the ontological structures that
permeated both. “ Looking hack, I have done a lot of different things up
to now'. Every time I change the direction of mv scholarship, someone
has tried to pin a label on mv work. But I have never been satisfied
with the labels others have applied to me," he wrote.s The one label
that he did receive his approval as being most truly descriptive of his
scholarship wras “ philosophical semantics.” In 1967, when Toshihiko
Izutsu w'as invited to he an official lecturer at the Eranos Conference,
the organizers proposed listing his specialty as “ philosophical seman­
tics.” Not only did he accept this suggestion, nothing, he said, summed
up his w'ork so w'ell as this one term.
There was a tacit understanding at Eranos that only one person
each time would be invited to attend from any given discipline, which
might include philosophy, religion, psychology, biology, music, lit­
erature, mathematics and physics. After Jung left, Ilcnrv Corbin, bv
his own reckoning and that of others, was the central figure at Era­
nos. Izutsu participated in Eranos w'ith Corbin from 1967 until the
latter’s death in 1978. Given that Corbin wras a leading twentieth-cen­
tury scholar of Islamic mystic philosophy, it is clear from the external
facts as w'ell that Toshihiko Izutsu wras not treated as a specialist in
Islamic studies there. Izutsu gave lectures at Eranos tw'elve times over
the course of fifteen years, and w'hat he consistently dealt w ith w'as the
possibility of an “ Oriental” philosophy; not once was Islam his main
theme. Toshihiko Dutsu’s name w as also on the list of official members
of the Institut International de Philosophic headquartered in France.
Raymond Klibansky, who recommended Izutsu, regarded him as a phi­
losopher w ho wras laving the groundwork for a renascence of Oriental
philosophy, not as a scholar of Islam.
Let me enumerate some of the main topics in Izutsu’s magnum
opus, Ishiki to honshitsu: Japanese classical literature and thought,
Islamic philosophy, Jewish mystical thought, Taoist thought, the
thought of C o n fu c iu s, Clni-tzu, N co -C o n fu cian ism in the S u n g
period, C h in e s e Z e n , Japanese Z e n , ancient Indian philosophy,
Tibetan tantrism and Ktikai’s thought, ancient G reek philosophy,
Rilke, Mallarmc and Sartre. To be sure, Islam w'as a tradition of spiritu­
ality that he found endlessly fascinating. But it occupied only one cor­
ner of Toshihiko Izutsu’s Oriental philosophy and had the same weight
as Buddhism or Greek philosophy.
In an article on Toshihiko Izutsu and the Japanese understanding
of Islam, Satoshi Ikeuchi observes that Izutsu’s perceptions of Islam arc
“ Japanese.”6 As a single reading of this essay makes clear, Ikeuchi is
not criticizing Izutsu, but merely pointing out a fact. His view' is a fair
one and important for Islamic studies in Japan; this is an outstanding
study that assesses the originality’ of Izutsu, w’ho, in his search for a new
Orient, read things into texts and actively deviated from Islam. And
yet Ikeuehi’s observation that Izutsu’s understanding of Islam was not
necessarily correct is also counterproof of Izutsu’s ow n contention that
he was not a scholar of Islam. As he himself said, he had “ from the out­
set I have had absolutely no interest in an objective study of someone
elsc’s thought with which I have no personal or existential relation” ;"
from the very beginning, Izutsu’s interest in a standard understanding
of Islam wras slight. Referring to contemporaries such as Roland Bar­
thes, Jacques Derrida and Michel Foucault, Izutsu comments that, in
the background from which these original thinkers emerge, there arc
often creative “ misunderstandings.” Barthes’s “ readings” sometimes arc
not only incorrect; they may even seem excessively highhanded. But if
we single out only their deficiencies or inconsistencies, we completely
lose sight of the vein of ore this remarkable w'ritcr has discovered.
“ Misreadings” that are arbitrary or arrived at aeeidcntlv, l/.utsu saws,
sometimes lead us instead to the depths of meaning.
It is not the aim of the present w ork to confine itself to a critical
stuck that corrects mistakes. What I am trying to the best of my abil-
itv to discover are the changes in and the development of Tosh ill iko
Izutsu’s mind. This is the tiger cub that I am pursuing, and to catch
a tiger cub one must enter the tiger’s den. Kvcn if there are scholarly
“ mistakes,” the aim is to understand the path that led to those mistakes
and why he continued on down it.

L an g u ag e and Sem antics

One dav when Izutsu w'as a middle-school student, he wras reading the
Bible. While casually leafing through the pages, quite bv chance, a pas­
sage at the beginning of the Gospel according to ]olm caught his eve.
“ I cannot forget even now' how astonished I felt w'hcn I read that,” the
seventy-ycar-old Izutsu said.

In the Primal Origin of all things . . . was the WORD. And the
WORD was with Cock Or rather, the WORD was Cock Kaeh and
every thing came into being through It, and of all the things that
came forth there was not one single thing that came forth without lt.S
These are the first few lines of the Gospel of John. Although the trans­
lation was made bv Izutsu in his later years, the w'ords seem to convey
the excitement he had felt as a teenager. Compare the same passage
from the English Standard Version:

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the
Word was God. lie was in the beginning with God. All things were
made through him, and without him was not anything made that was
made.
Kvcn from that one passage alone it is possible to catch a glimpse of
how Izutsu “ read” the Greek New Testament. Had lie translated all
four Gospels the way he did that one passage, w'e w'ould likely have a
completely new' Japanese Bible just as we have his Koran.
 He goes on to cleseribe his thoughts at the time he encountered
this passage at the beginning o f the Gospel according to John.

I recall being overwhelmed bv a trulv extraordinary feeling, some­

where between surprise and excitement. “WORD was God.” What
a mvsterious thing, 1 thought. I didn’t understand what it meant at
the time, of course. Still, even though its meaning was unclear, as
mystical words that were somehow full of unfathomable depth, this
passage left a lingering aftereffect deep in my heart that did not fade
away' for a long, long time.9

It was probably not long after this incident that Izutsu b e cam e
acquainted with Greek philosophy. As we saw earlier, for the voung
Izutsu that encounter was an event that might almost be called a rev­
elation. T h e middle-school vears were the first time that the unique
mentalitv nurtured during Izutsus bovhood with his hither came into
direct conflict with the outside world.
After the leeture in which these statements were made was published
as “ Gengo tetsugaku toshite no Shingon” (1985; Shingon: A philosophy
of language) in the scholarlv periodical Mikkyogaku kenkyu (Journal of
Esoterie Buddhist Studies), Izutsu made additions to it, renamed it “ Imi
bunsetsu riron to Rubai” (Kukai and the theory of semantic articulation)
and published it in the magazine Shiso (Thought). This version was
later included in the book Imi no fukami e.l° When it was published in
Shiso, however, the reference to the Gospel was removed. The relation­
ship between the Bible and Izutsu’s linguistic Urelebnis could only' be
confirmed after the collection of his unpublished essavs in Yomu to kaku
(Reading and writing) came out in 2009. This incident was virtuallv
unknown during his lifetime.
“ Gengo tetsugaku toshite no Shingon” was a leeture given at Mount
Koy'a to monks of the Shingon sect. T he expression “W O R D ,” which is
used here easually\ is Toshihiko Izutsu s most important kev term, but
it was not until after Ishiki to honshitsu that he would structure his phi­
losophy' around it. Or, rather, it would be fair to sav that it was the act of
writing this work that eonjured the expression W O R D into existence. It
was in the same leeture at Mount Kova that Izutsu for the first time artic­
ulated the eoneept “ Being is W O R D .” “ Being is W O R D ” —Toshihiko
Izutsu’s philosophy would converge on this one phrase. “ Being” does
not refer to the existence of phenomena. “ Being” here is as Ibn 'Arab!
uses it, another name for the absolutely Transcendent. “ W O R D ” is not
confined to any linguistic category such as Jangue or parole, signifiant
or sign ifie. It is different as well from ccriturc. When “ Being” “ creates”
“ beings,” it undergoes a process of self-expansion as WORD. “ W O R D ” is
the dynamic reality that calls phenomena into existence, i.e. it is nothing
other that the “energy form” that evokes being.
When Izutsu wrote Shinpi tetsugaku, he traversed ancient Greece
in search of nous-, when he wrote Roshiateki ningen, lie lived in ninc-
tccnth-ccnturv Russia and stared fixcdlv at the reality o f pneiuna. Then,
his long journev with W O R D in Islam began. Passing through Lao-
tzu, Glmaug-tzu, Confucius, ancient Indian philosophy and Japanese
classical literature, lie returned to Buddhism at the end of his life. 11 is
encounter with Kukai (774-835), the founder of the Shingon sect, was
a fateful one. 1 lis last work was Ishiki no keijijogciku: “Daijo kishinron”
no tetsugaku (1993; Metaphysics of consciousness: The philosophy of
the Awakening of Faith in the A lahavana)," in which he discussed the
true form of “spiritual true likeness” LLiOH, shin shinnvo). for Izutsu,
nous, pneuma and “ spiritual true likeness” all appeared in the guise
of W ORD. Toshihiko Izutsu’s W O R D embraces, vet transcends, the
field of linguistics. Bach used the W ORDs of music; van Gogh, those
of color. For Jung, who drew mandala, images and archetypes w ere
W'ORDs. To overlook the historical process that led to Izutsu’s pen­
etrating examination of W O R D and treat him only as a specialist in
Islam is to ignore Toshihiko Izutsu the philosopher’s most important
speculation. For Izutsu, Islam was a fertile intellectual and spiritual
field that opened out into W ORD.

Leo Wcisgcrhcr, who was mentioned earlier, was a tw’cntieth-ccn-

turv German linguist in whom Toshihiko Izutsu had a profound inter­
est. Though well knowai in linguistics circles, W'cisgerber max’ not he
a very familiar name among those outside his special field. 1 Ic is by
no means in the mainstream of linguistics today. In terms of schol­
arly influence, W'eisgcrber wras an older contemporary of Izutsu’s w’lio,
along with Junzaburo Nishiw'aki and Louis Massignon, had the most
profound impact on him. And vet, as though in inverse proportion to
the profundity of their influence, the names of these three men hardly
ever appear in Izutsu’s writings. This goes to prove that their influence
on Izutsu was not confined to the simple absorption or assimilation of
their views and eoneepts: Izutsu tended to wrestle with the ideas of his
predecessors until it becomes impossible to determine whieh are theirs
and whieh, his own. Weisgerbers influence is not limited to the sphere
of linguistics in a narrow sense; it manifests itself ontologicallv.
There are references to YVeisgerber such as the one below in the
English-language work, God and Man in the Koran (1964). In Izutsu’s
discussion of the “ dynamie ontology” of the Koran as an expression of
the inextrieable relation between words and the ereation of a Koranie
worldview, his indebtedness to Weisgerbers theories on the question
of language and mind formation is extremely large. Moreover, Weis-
gerber’s ideas, i.e. the “ Humboldtian philosophy of language,” are
consistent with the so-ealled Sapir-Whorf hypothesis of linguistic rela­
tivity, whieh attracted considerable attention in linguistic circles in the
English-speaking world and which Izutsu himself regarded with con­
siderable interest. “ [TJhese two sehools [Sapir-Whorf and the Ilum-
boldtian school] have long been developing the same type of linguistic
theory on both sides of the Atlantic without being acquainted with eaeh
other,” he says, drawing attention to their svnehronic coincidence.12
Just as Weisgerber’s influence deeply eolors God and Man in the
Koran, it is impossible to diseuss The Structure of the Ethical Terms in
the Koran (1959) without mentioning Sapir and Whorf. Edward Sapir
and Benjamin Whorf were American linguists active at the beginning
of the twentieth eenturv. As a result of their studies of native Amer-
iean languages, they too believed that words were something more
than tools for naming things; thev were a reality that transcended the
physical, phenomenal world. In thinking about language, thev aetivelv
departed from the field of linguistics in the narrow sense. Weisgerber
and Sapir-Whorf are in strong agreement in their recognition that lan­
guage is eloselv connected to all beings; that to eonfine oneself to a
single aeademie discipline is to ignore this relationship; and that in a
situation such as this it is impossible to eome elose to one’s goal just bv
pondering these ideas.
 Wcisgcrber called his linguistics nco-I Inmboldtiai 1. 1 1c did so, he
writes in Das Klenschheitsgesetz der Sprache (1964; The humanistic
law of language), because the form in w hich he inherited Humboldt’s
ideas was reminiscent of the manner in which the thought of Ploti­
nus, who carried on the Platonic tradition, was called Neoplatonism.
Although Wilhelm von Humboldt’s name appears several times in
this hook, that does not mean Wcisgcrber advocates turning back the
clock 150 years. Rather, it is “ a sign of mv conviction that the ceaseless
working of time has now’ made it possible to mobilize the full force
of scientific goal-setting and take up in all their diversity the problems
that [Humboldt]— far ahead of his day —had in ingenious w'ays recog­
nized.’1" “ In the beginning there w'as intuition,” Toshihiko lzutsu states
at the start of Shinpi tetsugaku;14 Humboldt, too, writes that human
beings can recover their primal connection to the w'orld through intu­
ition alone. Just as in his youth Toshihiko lzutsu became aw'are of the
existence of the noumcnal w orld through Plato, as a scholar he learned
through I Iumboldt’s linguistics that the mvstcry of W O R D wras capable
of becoming a subject of scholarly study.
Humboldt, wrho bad also been an able diplomat engaged in heated
negotiations with the Napoleonic empire, w’as a remarkable linguist
and a friend of Goethe’s and Schiller’s in private life. In his Gesprache
mit Goethe (1836 and 1848; Conversations of Goethe with Kckermann
and Soret, 1850), Eckermann w’rites that he hopes Humboldt’s visit w ill
cheer up the melaneholv-prone Goethe. 1 say friend, though Goethe
was eighteen vears older than Humboldt. Humboldt observed at an
earlv date that the study of language w'as a fertile but undeveloped
field that deserved to be established as a scholarlv discipline, and he set
about doing so. He continued to lecture in university classrooms for the
last fifteen years of his life. Both during his lifetime and after his death,
manv have held Humboldt in high esteem as a diplomat and as a polit­
ical theorist. But partly' due to the fact that all his w’ritings on linguistics
w’ere published posthumously, it was not until the twentieth century
that anyone regarded him as a linguist.
A w’ord is not a mere sign that represents an object; a word deter­
mines w’hat that object ought to be. Language “is not ergon d Hum­
boldt wTotc; “it is energeiad Krgon, w'hich is translated as “product,” is a
Greek word that means a completed work. Energeia is entelekheia, “ the
activity by which spiritual power is completely manifested,” as Izutsu
explains in Shinpi tetsugcikuT C o n tin u in g his previous sentence,
Humboldt goes on to say that language is die sich ewig wiederholende
Arbeit des Geistes — the eternally self-repeating work of Geist.l6 Geist
is translated as mind; it also means spirit and is related to the Latin
spiritus, which means breath or breathing, and to pnemnci, a Greek
word used to signify' the Holy Spirit. Pneunia also refers to w ind; rather
than the physical flow' of air, “ wind” here is a metaphor for the creative
pow'er of God. A similar spiritual experience lies behind w'hat Islamic
mystics call the “ breath of mercy/ the divine activity that brings the
world into existence. Words don’t know' how' to stand still; they can per­
haps be called an organic form of Geist , as it w ere. 1 Iumboldt believed
that the true significance of W O R D lay not in its function of expressing
phenomena but in causing the existence of all things to rise to the sur­
face. Weisgerber inherited this idea and attempted to develop it further.
In order to clarify' Humboldt’s linguistic world, he structurally designed
a field that lie called a Zwischenwelt.
Between human beings and the external w'orld there exists a spra-
chliche Zwischenwelt, a linguistic intermedian' world. In the everyday
w'orld, it is impossible to cognize not only material objects but even
abstract ideas without passing through this intermediary w'orld. That is
because the Zwischenwelt is not simply linguistic (sprachliche); it is also
mental or spiritual (geistliche). If the language is different, naturally the
spiritual intermedian' world is also different. Nor is even our inner real­
ity free from the workings of W O R D . Weisgerber continues his argu­
ment w'ith an analog}’ to the stars. We can see the constellation know'n
as Orion, but it is not a universal reality. It is only a cultural universal
that is limited to specific cultures; in a different cultural zone, there is
a completely different wrav of “ reading” the stars. Orion, Cancer, Pisces
and other constellations exist only in the sprachliche Zwischenwelt of
the people w ho “ read” them that w’av in the skv.
In certain ethnic groups what we call a palm tree has sixty differ­
ent names; some ethnic groups, on the other hand, sum up the entire
botanical w'orld in four words. What is a weed? Weisgerber asks. There
is no “ plant” in the natural world called a weed. People only decide
w hether something is a weed in proportion to how' useful thev think
it is. In front of my eyes is a nazuna. One of the seven herbs of spring
in Japan, it is deeply loved by those who know' it as an edible plant.
If 1 hear that there is a forgotten pieee of land wrhere only penpen-
gnsa grow, it conjures up a vacant lot, overgrown and desolate - even
though penpengusa and nazuna are different names for the same plant,
what in Knglish is called shepherd’s purse, for the poet Basho, how­
ever, who w'rotc, Yoku mireba / nazuna liana saku / kakine ka na (If I
look carefully', I see a nazuna blooming bv the hedge), the plant is a
symbol of the microcosmos transmuted into a gateway to the cosmos.
An edible plant, a medicinal herb, sometimes a useless weed, on the
one hand; on the other, an artist’s motif that serves as the portal to the
other w'orld. We cognize the world through the words we use.
Wcisgcrbcr also took note of the relationship between people and
their mother tongue. Our mother tongue forms the basis of our Welt­
anschauung, our w'orldvicw', he asserted, and no one can escape the
restrictions it imposes. In other words, the entire human race is inev­
itably ‘‘articulated’’ into linguistic communities. It is unavoidable that
the community that forms the basis of human life is, first of all, a “ 1 in-
guistic community.” He called this the Gesetz der Sprachgemeinschaft
(law of linguistic community) or the Menschheitsgetsetz der Sprache
(humanistic law of language) and believed it to be an inescapable truth
of human existence. A Japanese hears a poem from the Manydshu ,
the earliest collection of Japanese poetry from the eighth century, or
from the Kokinshu, an anthology from two centuries later. The reason
our hearts are moved by it even before w'e understand its meaning is
because our mother tongue leads us to an ur-landscape of the spirit.
“ Mother tongue” is not limited to language in the narrow' sense. As
Rimbaud wrote to Dcmenv* in his famous lettre du vovant / , it includes
even sounds, colors, smells. Our sense of language innately consists of a
combination of multiple senses. In an essav, Tosh ill iko Izutsu said that
even biosemiotic activities —the sound of birds, the biological activity
of plants, the reactions of cells —are capable of being language.
It is impossible to overlook the association w'ith linguists and phi­
losophers of language in the formation ofToshihiko Izutsu’s thought—
1 lumboldt, Wcisgcrber, Sapir, Whorf, Jakobson and the reevaluation of
the later Saussure. In particular, the eoneept of “ articulation,” whieh
originated in the Humboldtiaji sehool beginning w ith Humboldt him­
self and was subsequently deepened by Weisgerber, would beeome
a kev term that forms the basis of Izutsu’s thought. Language articu­
lates the world semantieally. And semantic articulation automatically
becomes ontological articulation. Why? Because Izutsu believes that
“ meaning” is not a sign attached to a phenomenon; “ meaning” grabs
hold of the phenomenon. Izutsu first refers to linguistic articulation
in his stud}- of Plotinus in Shinpi tetsugaku. At that time, the term was
simply mentioned in passing, but with caeh successive work, its mean­
ing deepened. In his magnum opus, Ishiki to honshitsu, it becomes
one of his most important kev terms. It was in Ishiki to honshitsu
that philosophical semantics, i.e. losluhiko Izutsu s philoso phy of
W O R D , passed beyond the existing field of linguistic philosophy and
took the creative leap to beeome an ontology and a study of conscious­
ness, a mystieal philosophy of W O R D . After this work, he made a clear
distinction between words and W O RD .

T h e “ Introduction to L in g u istics” Lectures

Sparked by the professor’s leetures on linguistics, my interests, onee 1

had entered that field, naturally proceeded in the direction of linguis­
tic theory and the semantic development of a philosophy of language.
After graduation, I beeame Professor Nishiwaki’s teaching assistant
and eventual!}' succeeded to his ehair in linguistics, and beeame
more and more deeplv engrossed in philosophical semantics.lS

“T he professor” refers to Junzaburo Nishiwaki, the “ ehair in lin­

guistics,” to his Introduction to Linguistics leetures; S h in ’va Makino
(1930- ) mentions these leetures in an insert in volume four of Izutstu’s
selected works.19 T h e leeture notes that the poet Hiroko Murakami
faithfully took also exist; although Makino wrote that these notes were
to be published in the near future, they remain unpublished to this
da}r. Hiroko Murakami was born in 1930 and left six volumes of poetry;
she was also aetive as an illustrator. Here is a passage from her poem
“Yamai” (Illness).
 You will conic todav, 1 think.

You, who love to visit the sick.

Your visit is as quiet as a painted picture.
The chattering wind,
Rustling gaily, comes and goes.20

The “you” presumably is a reference to Christ, and if we take “ w ind”

metaphorically, perhaps the Holy Spirit is wdiat the author had in
mind. Murakami \yas a devout Catholic; she contributed articles on
theology to a magazine put out by the Carmelites, a religious order
renow ned for its austerity. In the brief biography appended to Sarafan
kamishibai (Cellophane paper picture-play), her last poetry collection,
she wrote that she had “studied \yith Professor Toshihiko Izutsu in the
Faculty of Letters, Keio University.”21 There is no similar comment in
any of her preceding works. She died in 2000, shortly after that book
came out. According to an obituary written by her friend and fellow'
Catholic, French literature specialist Masako Taniguchi (1931- ), for
several years after graduation Murakami came to Keio just to attend
these lectures. Though apparently urged to publish her notes, she ada­
mantly refused to do so on the grounds that the}' might not accurately
convey what the lecturer had intended. So I was told bv another note-
taker, Daijiro Kawashima (1927- ), with whom Murakami had corre­
sponded on this matter.22
It is not possible here to cover all the contents of the “ Introduction
to Linguistics” lectures that lasted for a total of six and a half years;
that would require a separate work. The year after these lectures ended,
Toshihiko Izutsu wrote his first English-language book, Language and
Magic (1956). The likelihood of the lecture notes being published is,
at present, slim, but through this English-language work we can get a
sense of Izutsu’s linguistic worldview as well as the excitement these
lectures must have generated. In this chapter, I will refer to both this
unpublished material — Kawashima’s and Murakamis notes —as well as
to “ Sarutoru o koenasai” (1996; Surpass Sartre), the posthumous tribute
to Izutsu that Kawashima wrote fora literal)' magazine.2’ In what follows,
I will call the records of the lectures given between 1949 and 1950 that
Kawashima attended the “ early notes” and those between 1951 and 1955
that Murakami attended the Uater notes.” Just as an essay is different
when it first appears and when it comes out in book form, ideas that arc
rough in the early notes and have a onc-timc-onlv quality— the begin­
nings of an idea welling u p —show' signs of deepening in the later notes.24
The lectures of the early period were originally supposed to have
been given bv Professor Junzaburo Nishiwaki, but sometime in Maw
in the middle of the first semester [the Japanese academic year begins
in April], that abruptly changed. Kawashima’s notes show' signs of Pro­
fessor Nishiwaki’s name being corrected to Toshihiko lzntsu. Being put
in charge of the course may have been a sudden event. T h e year the
lectures began, 1949, was also the year that he finished w riting Shinpi
tetsugaku, a period, he recalled, in which “ I was actually on mv sick­
bed coughing up blood as I wTote ” 2S “Around that time, as a young
man, I lectured on linguistics in the Faculty of Letters at Keio Uni­
versity,” Izutsu wrote when he was in his seventies. “ I was dissatisfied
w'ith bow' casually the conventional linguistics that I had studied and
that 1 myself w'as teaching treated the phenomenon o f ‘meaning’ as a
self-evident, eommonsense fact.” 26 At the beginning of the lectures, as
w'ell, he spoke of his distrust of language and the still-embrvonic state
of linguistics as a scholarly discipline. Students of language must ques­
tion eaeh and every premise of language and linguistics, he explained,
in an effort to change their attitude toward scholarship. These w'ords
certainly convey the state of linguistics at the time. But, on the other
hand, thev w'ere also lecturer Toshihiko Izutsu’s declaration of his
intention to construct a linguistics/philosophv of language the likes of
w'hieh no one had ever seen before. Bv the beginning of the later notes,
the expression is slightly more refined. On the blackboard, according
to Murakami’s notes, he wrote a passage in French, perhaps from Paul
Valery, to the effect that one must never believe conventional linguis­
tics can completely fathom all the problems that language presents.
The words that Kawashima heard bad much the same meaning.

When reading the notes to “ Introduction to Linguistics,” Ogden

and Richards’ The Meaning of Meaning is impossible to ignore. “Words
deceive us” is not only Ogden and Richards’ basic proposition in that
book; it is also the underlying thesis of “ Introduction to Linguistics.”
“ Words,” Izutsu said, “ do not guarantee that a thing exists,” writes Dai-
jiro Kawashima. Not only do words fail to adequately express the thing
in question; people are misled by them. True “ meaning” is obscured
by words. “ [TJhcrc is no longer any excuse for vague talk about Mean­
ing, and ignorance of the way in w hich words deceive us,” Ogden and
Richards write.2" The words “ no longer any excuse” give a sense of the
authors’ strong intent.
Although wc can speak of “ a round square,” no such thing can
possiblv exist. Even without being so obvious, words in the strict sense
usually do not represent reality completely. And vet, though people
sense that w'ords are somehow' incomplete, in order to communicate
they simplv disregard this distinctive feature of language. What about
the ease of “ God,” for example, Izutsu asks. Even if human beings w'ere
capable of correctly cognizing all the historical implications that this
one term carries w'ith it, “ G o d ” w'ould not be a word that expresses all
aspects of the transcendently Absolute. A God capable of being known
w'ould no longer be transcendent. The w'ord “ G o d ” contains a funda­
mental paradox: If human beings w'ere able to cognize God wTollv and
completely, God w’ould cease to be transcendent. We know' only the
“ G o d ” created by human beings, and that is what we regard as God/thc
transcendently Absolute. The charge atheists make that human beings
invented “ G o d ” mavj even be nearer to the truth. Tosh ill iko Izutsu calls
this impasse “ linguistic nihilism.”
The first edition of The Meaning of Meaning, which is now' a clas­
sic, w'as published in 1923, and the fourth and definitive edition came
out in 1936. I T e Japanese translation bv Kotaro Ishibashi w'as published
that same vear.2,s Yoshisaburo Okakura (1868-1936) contributed the
introduction. Okakura was a scholar of the English language, editor of
the first edition of the Kenkyusha Englisli-Japanese Dictionary, a close
acquaintance of novelist Soseki Natsume and the younger brother of
Tcnshin Okakura. At the beginning of the introduction, Okakura cites
the passage at the beginning of the Gospel according to John: “ In the
beginning w'as the Way, and the Way w'as with God, and the Way was
God.” This is, of course, Okakura’s owai translation. As w;c saw earlier
in this chapter, the English Standard Version reads, “ In the beginning
was the Word.” T h e 1 meaning of the Greek word logos, which is trans­
lated into English as “ word,” .cannot possiblv be completely compre­
hended bv this term, Okaknra writes. Suffice it to sav that logos implies
a combination of “ reason” and “ word,” and that is whv he translated it
as “ Way.” “A term that expresses both ‘reason’ and ‘word’ as spiritual
entities,” he goes on to say, “ is [the Japanese word] koto," and he raises
the question of whether it might not have been the original mission of
words “ to signify spirituality7and spiritual intensify.”29
Someone who picked up this book as a work on linguistics might
feel these sentences bv Yoshisaburo Okakura arc somehow incompat­
ible with that subject. And yet this passage clearly conveys the spirit
that prevailed at the dawn of linguistics, including the spirit of Ogden
and Richards themselves. Chapter Two of The Meaning o f Meaning
is entitled “The Power of Words” and deals with the spiritual power of
language and the real state of confusion that is produced as a result.
According to the introduction to the second edition, in the first edition,
this chapter was deemed to have been exceptionally long. Yet even so
Ogden did not feel he had been able to treat the subject adequately
and at one time planned to publish the chapter as a separate hook
under the title Word Magic. It is unlikely that the word “ magic” here is
unrelated to the same word in Izutsu’s Language and Magic.
With the appearance in the twentieth century of Freud, Jung and
Adler, a current of thought arose that sought to explicate scientifically
the depths of human consciousness which had previously been the
exclusive purview' of religion, mystic thought and ancient philosophy.
Phis was a period in which psychology took a creative leap forward
and was reborn as literally the study (logos) of the soul (psvchc). All
other scholarly disciplines thereafter could no longer overlook the fact
that consciousness is a multilayered reality. One of the disciplines that,
along with psychology, made the greatest strides in the twentieth cen­
tury was linguistics. As talented individuals from various fields entered
linguistics, they were not afraid to establish close relations with other
scholarly disciplines. Ogden was a psychologist and a philosopher;
Richards, a literary critic. Ogden was a polymath in the true sense of
the word; there were virtually no limits to his expertise, l ie was some­
one who had a good command of W O R D s that would break through

1"2
the confusion of the times. I Ic was also the quintessential outsider who
kept his distance from academia. An outstanding editor and series plan­
ner, he drew7up proposals for the publication of w orks by authors such
as Jung, Russell and Malinow'ski and was friendly with Russell and
Wittgenstein. Yoshiko Aizawa’s hook 8 <yogo ni miserareta tenscii: C.K.
Oguden (C.K. Ogden: 'The genius fascinated by 850 words) frankly
describes him as not only naturally gifted in many fields but also as a
man of conscience who fought against the prewailing orthodoxies of
his times.'0 Psyche, the journal he edited, covered fields ranging from
parapsychology, as can he deduced from its name, to education, reli­
gion, literature, art and social issues. But it w'as a reflection of Ogden’s
mind that even topics related to the transcendental world must never
he considered in isolation from the phenomenal world. Ogden loathed
useless mysticisizing that wont contrary to reason.
Although Sapir did not always sec eve to ewe with Ogden, he had
a profound interest in 7 he Meaning of Meaning and contributed to
Psyche. Also, like Ogden, he was someone who had been quick to
respond to Jung. What “ Jung” meant to both of them w'as not just the
name of a remarkable psychologist, but rather a worldview predicated
on the existence of the unconscious, the unseen reality at the basis of
the visible world. Sapir was admired for his prodigious abilities, but
his best student, Wborf, w'as interdisciplinary and innovative. He was
not a scholar based in academia, but a successful businessman w'ho
worked for an insurance company. In a letter he sent to the Slavic lin­
guist Nikola}' Trubetzkoy, Wborf wrote that working for a company w as
a good opportunity to think about language.
Roman Jakobson spoke about Whorf’s situation as an outsider-scholar
with an admixture of sympathy. He also had a high regard for Charles
Sanders Peirce, the obscure thinker and brilliant linguist wTiom virtually
no one paid any attention to at that time. Referring to Peirce’s 1867 paper
on semiotics, “On a New List of Categories,” Jakobson described it as “ bis
magnificent profession of faith.” ' 1 In the twentieth century, particularly
during its first half, linguistics was not a discipline that investigated the
function of language; rather, Jakobson believed, it was “ theology” under
a different guise. To say that linguistics assumed the role of theology
implies that this discipline attempts to reveal a dimension that would go
beyond differences'in culture, history and mentality. Jakobson’s meta­
language w as one sueh attempt. Jakobson’s name can be found several
times in Izntsn’s wrorks. “ Fven in R. Jakobson’s structural analysis of
poetic language, it was impossible to find a satisfactory guide,” be says
in bis Afterword to Imi no fukanii e,v~and be made critical comments on
Jakobson’s overly optimistie pronouncements about a universal language,
i.e. metalanguage, in “ Bunka to gengo aravashiki” (1984; Culture and
linguistic c7/<m/-conscioiisness)T In recognizing the need for a metalan­
guage, far from being outdone by Jakobson, its attainment was Izutsu’s
own deepest desire. But the metalanguage that Izutsu hoped for wrould
have to be a metalanguage in the true sense —a reality- that wrould tran­
scend language not an existing language used transcendently.

Words arc caught between two silences, Izutsu said in a lecture: the
silence that precedes language and the silenee of the absolute world that
is utterly ineapable of being expressed linguistically. All phenomena
occur between these silent echo-existences. And in that space, there are
four linguistic levels: “ animal erics, conventional usage, the existence
of non-existents, ultimate harmony.” While each exists independently,
they are all inextricably connected. They coexist in eonccntric cireles,
so to speak, Izutsu said, and be wmild draw- four concentric cireles on
the blackboard, Kaw'ashima w'rites, with animal cries in the center and
ultimate harmony in the outermost circle. T h e four levels beginning
w'ith animal eries deepen as they approach ultimate harmony. This mul­
tilayered, linguistic world acts as a ladder from the phenomenal w’orld
to the transcendental world. It exists in a step-like progression, but that
docs not mean that the paths leading from each region to the w'orld of
silence in and of themselves are blocked off. There is a point at whieh
a leap-like change of dimension occurs; this is the place where “ pure
poetrv” is born.
For the most part the later notes include the same eontent as the
earlier notes. T he one exception was pure poetrv. Izutsu diseussed this
topic passionately in the early lectures, but did not refer to it directly
in the later ones. In Roshiateki ningen, alluding to Pushkin’s poetry, he
had this to say about tbe pure poetry element that ran through it:
 What brings into being the rare, pure hannonv of these poems is not
their plot or meaning but a n i n e f f a b l e s o m e t h i n g that far transeencls
their semantie eontent, s o m e t h i n g M. Bremond ealls p o e s i e p u r e W

“ Pure poctrv” is not a term applied to a particular work; it is a quality or

property that deserves to be called the primordial, original nature that
pervades the w riting of pocty. In saying that it “ is not their plot or mean­
ing but an ineffable something that far transeencls their semantie eon-
tent,” Uutsu means, in other words, that it is something prclinguistic.
The first person to use the expression “ pure poctrv” was Paul Valcrv.
When Henri Bremond took up this term and wrote La poesie pure,'s a
“ pure poctrv" debate broke out that embroiled the French literary and
intellectual worlds. Bremond raised the issue of whether a poem has to
be read in its entirety. If something happens to catch our eve in a few
lines, that max’ be enough even without reading what precedes or follows
them. Pure poctrv is definitely deeplv ingrained in Dante s Divine Com­
edy. That is prceisclv the reason this work has continued to he cherished
for the past several hundred years. But it is hard to read the whole poem,
and not simplv because it is so long. When readers encounter pure poetic
images, they often lose interest in what comes before or aftenvards. Pure
poctrv, in which words appearand come into being almost as if a revela­
tion, is not the product of personal choice. The role of the poet is not to
search for words; it is to become the field for the pure expression of some­
thing that passes through the poet. Poets are entrusted w'ith the words by
something. Their ultimate form, Bremond saws, becomes the w ords of a
praver in the true sense. Underlying Bremond’s idea that, when “ pure
poetry” arises, the human poet inevitably becomes an “ active” passive
voice is a clear recognition of human limitations and the absoluteness
of God in the work of creation. Wc should probablv not read Bremond’s
w ords to mean a poem must become a prayer. Human beings could not
even pray, he believed, unless the praver wras given to them. A prayer is
not a supplication; it is an affirmation in w'ords of the Absolute.
As the classic example of such people, the Prophet Muhammad
max' come to mind. Or perhaps, just as the Old Testament proph­
ets xx'crc poets, Izutsu’s statement that “ Claudel, too, is a poet and a
prophet” coincides with this idea.’6 Poets do not have w ords of their
own. Only by receiving the W O R D from God do they full}' express
their own identity. Pure poetry is pure entelekheia , “ the activity by
w'hich spiritual power is co m pletely m anifested,” pure energeia.
Hence, its mission docs not end in being understood. “ [Un poeme]
cst fait expressement pour renaitre dc scs ccndrcs et redevenir indefin-
iment ce qu’il \rient d’etre” ([A poem] is expressly designed to be born
again from its ashes and to become endlessly what it has just been),
said Valery.’7 Mallarmc had called his ideal of an absolute language le
Verbe. When Valery w'as nineteen he met Mallarmc, who became his
teacher. Readers of Ishiki to honshitsu wall perhaps recall that Izutsu
treated Mallarme as an extremely important person. In both the “ Intro­
duction to Linguistics” lectures and Language and Magic , Izutsu, like
Valery, “ often spoke of Mallarme.”
In Izutsu’s Knglish and Japanese works, references to Bergson arc
by no means frequent — there arc only twro or three — but his name
crops up often in the “ Introduction to Linguistics” notes, conveying
the fact that Izutsu had seriously grappled with his ideas. T h e Berg­
son discussed there, how'ever, w'as not the philosopher of the elan vital
and time. He is the prosecutor of language that docs not express the
actual state of things, a denunciator who makes his anger and indigna­
tion clear in w'hat could well be called a curse. One might even almost
think that he literally believed the account in Genesis 11, where God
caused humankind to speak different languages as a punishment for
planning to build the tower of Babel.
Although there are a few’ references to him in Roshiateki ningen and
“ Shi to shukyoteki jitsuzon: Kuroderu-ron” (1949; Poetry and religious
existence: On Claudel), it is hard to convey on the basis of his published
w'orks how’ Toshihiko Izutsu read Valery. Among the Western works in
the catalogue of his library arc several volumes bv that poet. And the
lecture notes tell us that Izutsu confronted Valery no less passionately
than he did Bergson, fie observed that Valery had a profound interest in
Leonardo da Vinci. Perhaps he recalled that Leonardo is the protagonist
of the novel The Renaissance of the Gods (1900) bv Mcrezbkovskv, w ho
along w’itb Berdyaev was the Russian thinker who influenced Izutsu
most. In this novel Mcrezhkovskv describes Leonardo’s achievements as

1~6
not just artistic or scientific but as spiritual. Although not to the extent
of Leonardo, Valery, too, was a multi-talented genius. And yet their true
greatness did not lie in the breadth of their fields of activity, hut rather
in the fact that the}' continued to seek for one thing in uianv places. It
was Katherine Mansfield who allegedly called Valerv a “ godless mys­
tic.” Valery liked this expression. But its applicability is not confined
to Valerv;. this was likclv
j a characteristic of Leonardo as well. A mvstic
.
for them would have been synonvmous with the meaning with which
Toshihiko Izutsu used the term consisteutlv from Shinpi tetsugaku on.
T h e power of words, which Izutsu explored in Language and
M agic , not only gives rise to meaning; it is a mvstery of “ Being” that
determines reality. But if wc were to translate the word “ magic” in the
title with the Japanese words niajutsu (iMtli) or jujutsu (HYflj), as wc read
on, the hazier the point under discussion would become. Someone
might sav that if w c understand the Lnglish w’ord, there is no need to
go to the trouble of translating it. But given bis understanding of Vcis-
gerber, Izutsu wordd avoid so sanguine a view. When reading a foreign
language, no matter how proficient wc mav be, in order to understand
it wc translate it into our mother tongue. Even though, at a conscious
level, Japanese readers mav think they understand a Western-language
text, at the deep-consciousness level, they grasp its meaning by convert­
ing it into its kana (syllabary) and kanji (character) equivalents or their
archetypal images. Such was the view' of language of Izutsu himself,
w ho was said to know’ more than thirty languages. According to Izutsu,
words are nothing less than magico-religious entities. The transcen­
dence that “ magic” connotes in this context cannot be expressed by tbc
Japanese w'ords niajutsu or jujutsu.

All things that have been given names have their corresponding sub­
stance. In this wax', an ideograph is in an inseparable relation with,
and corresponds to, tbc real world. It is not the superficial form of a
word; it is nothing less than a designation of the substance itself that
the word means. Just as spoken words hax’c a k o t o c h n n a [a word soul],
written words, too, hax’c this sort of incantatory function.^
It was not Izutsu who w'rote this. This is a passage from Kanji hyakuwa
(A hundred stories about Chinese characters) by Shizuka Shirakaw'a
(1910-2006), an authorit\r on ideographs. A written word is not some­
thing that simply expresses a*n existing object, lie says; rather, there is
a power in the written word, an ineantatorv function (Pftet, jund), that
evokes a substance and its meaning. Shirakawa would probably have
translated Language and Magic as Kotoba to juno
It may seem abrupt to introduce Shizuka Shirakawa in this context.
But it is not just the attitudes with which lie and Izntsn confront the
written word and W O R D respectively that they have in common. A
comparison of the statements thev made about people such as C o n ­
fucius, Chuang-tzu, C l i ’ii Yuan or the Apostle Paul, or the themes and
subjects thc\r dealt with such as the Shih-ching (the Chinese “ Book of
Songs,” 520 B C E ) , the Manyoshu and the history of the birth of wakci,
in other words, poetics, shows that the writings of the two men are in
such accord with one another that it seems all the more surprising that
their paths never crossed.

The written word stands at the crossroads between myth and history.
With myth in the background, the written word took over from it and
assumed the function of making mvth put down roots in the world
of history. Consequently, the earliest written words were the words
of God; they came into being in order to give form to, and make
present, the words that were w'ith God. If we were able to continue
the biblical text, wc could perhaps say, “Then, there was the Written
Word, and the Written Word w'as w'ith God, and the Whitten Word
was God.”43

T h e biblical text that Shizuka Shirakawa is referring to here is, of

course, the passage at the beginning of the Gospel of John cited ear­
lier. Someone might say that Shirakawa deals with the written word,
Izntsn with spoken language — isn’t what they are discussing different?
But that this is a dispute about superficial differences would probablv
be refuted by Izutsu’s own words in the quotation cited below. T h e
meaning of “ seeds,” “ linguistic d/uvu-eonseiousness” and the other dis­
tinctive kev terms that Izutsu uses in this passage is not the matter at
hand. What I would like vou to get a sense of, instead, is how the studv
of the written language, far from being subsumed into Izutsu’s world of
W O R D , is regarded as the most important issue.
 It is a view of] angiia^c centered on the process of evoking the primal
images of the “seeds” of meaning in the realm of the deep-level con­
sciousness, w'hich I have been treating in this essav under the name
of “linguistic r7 /(/V(/-eonseiousness”; logicallv developed, this has the
potential to give rise to an imposing philosophv of language. It would
he a linguistic philosophv at the depth-level of consciousness com­
pletely different trom the philosophies of language that we normally
think of, i.e. ones that reason fabricates in our surface consciousness.
There are several classic eases of it, such as Kukai’s meditation on the
syllable “a” in Shingon Buddhism, the letter mysticism of Islam, and
likewise the letter mvstieism of the Oahhalah.4'

It would be fair to call this one passage Toshihiko lzutsu’s philosophical

manifesto. The construction of “ a linguistic philosophy at the depth-
level of consciousness completely different from the philosophies of
language . . . that reason fabricates in our surface consciousness” —that
was Izutsu’s deepest desire.
But it is not just an agreement of their views on language that can
be found in Izutsu and Shirakawa. Rather, it is the nature of their expe­
rience of God. Inasmuch as “ the Wh itten Word was God,” Shirakawa s
inevitable conclusion was that the discipline that deals with it is mysti­
cism, i.e. a higher level of theology. The same was also true for Izutsu.
What Toshihiko Izutsu discovered in linguistics, the studv of W O RD ,
was nothing less than a theology, a studv of God for the present day.
With the discovery of the character scii, Shirakawa s study of ideo­
graphs took a unique turn. This character could well he called the kcinji
equivalent for Shirakawa of what the syllable “ a” had been for Kfikai,
i.e. an ur-language. Not the same as the box-like ideograph u for mouth,
sai signifies a container in which to place the prayers and oaths that arc
offered as pledges to the gods. “The original meaning” of the ideographs
that contain this character “ was to denote someone who pravs to God
and is able to hear G o d ’s voice.”4” It was through the publication of Kcinji
in 1970 that the world learned of this discovery, which shook the studv of
ideographs to its very foundations, though, unbeknownst to the world,
Shirakawa had published his findings much earlier, lie developed his
thesis in a 1955 essay, “ Shakushi” (The history of interpretation). This
corresponds to the period that, unbeknownst to the world, Izutsu was
writing Language and M agic."
Surprised that YVeisgerber and Sapir-Whorf had elaborated highly
similar hypotheses at roughly the same time despite there being no
direct contact between them, Izutsu responded strongly to the idea that
concepts which have so much in common with one another arise svn-
chronicallv. T he same thing could be said to be true about himself and
Shizuka Shirakawa. There is little likelihood that Shirakawa read Lan­
guage and Magic. But if he had ever gotten hold of this book, he would
probably have been very surprised that a Japanese contemporary of his
was discussing the mysteries of language in Fnglish.

T h e S e m an tics o f Waka

Just before he retired from Keio University, Yasaburo Ikeda held a

three-day colloquy with cultural anthropologist K c n ’ichi Tanigawa
(1921- ), which would later result in a collection of conversations about
ethnologists Kunio Yanagita and Shinobu O r ik u c h iT For Ikeda, this
seems to have been a special book in the sense that he did not limit
himself to looking back on his scholarly career but reflected on his life
in general. While proofreading it, he had “ the feeling that I was sitting
across from professors Yanagita and Orikuehi,” he said. Spontaneously
recalling Keio classmates such as historian Saburo Icnaga (1913-2002)
and Toshihiko Izutsu, he writes that now' “ I think I should deepen mv
ideas, particularly along the lines that Izutsu’s cssav suggests.”44
It is not clear to which of Izutsu’s essays he is referring, but at the
time Ikeda was writing Tegaini no tanoshiini (1981; T h e pleasures of
letters), the v'ork in which this article appears, “ Ishiki to honshitsu” was
being serialized in the magazine Shiso. Ikeda mav have been referring
to the place in “ Ishiki to honshitsu” where Izutsu alludes to the waka
of the Kokinshu and Shinkokinshu. There is a passage in the colloquy
with Tanigawa in which Ikeda mentions Izutsu.

There was a fellow at Keio named Toshihiko Izutsu —lie’s now a world-
renowned expert on Islamic studies—who suggested to me that we work
together and try applying colors to poems in the Al a n v o s h u — color it
 crimson when a poem reads akancsasu , for example. . . . It’s a method
used in literary studies abroad, I understand. When a color appears in
a novel, try applying that color to it. 'I’hat would make the writer’s color
sense, his likes and dislikes, stand out, he said. We never actuallv got
around to doing this because he went abroad soon afterwards, and it’s
been something of a blind spot ever since.4S

In 1983, two years after these words were written, Ikeda died, and the
research project was never undertaken. The aim of applying colors to
waka was probably not to understand the color sense of ancient Jap­
anese or appreciate their brilliant culture and natural environment.
Might it not be the ease, rather, that by applying color to something
colorless it would have caused, as Shizuka Shirakawa saws, “ the sub­
stance itself that the word means” to rise to the surface?

“A noir, E blane, I rouge, U vert, O bleu” is a line from Arthur

Rimbaud’s famous poem “Vovelles.” As Baudelaire says in “ Correspon-
danees,” poets sense colors in words and in smells. Normally the fix e
senses operate independently, each holding fast to its own domain —
color for the eves, smell for the nose, sound for the ears. But sometimes,
for some people, several of the senses are largely interchangeable. The
five senses interpenetrate each other and work together so that a person
perceives colors in w ords or smells in sounds, for example. This phe­
nomenon is called synesthesia. Mallarme’s la solitude bleue expresses
this svnesthesie world.

Palmes! et quand elle a montre eette relique

A ee pere essayant un sourire ennemi,
La solitude bleue et sterile a fremi.
(O you palms! and when it show'ed that relie
to this father attempting an unfriendly smile,
the blue and sterile solitude shivered all the while.)46

Color is not normally associated with “solitude.” Another example in

the next poem is “ blue incense” — Fencens bleu in the original. Nor­
mally✓ we do not see colors in smells.
 Kt tu fis la blaneheur sanglotantc dcs lys
Oui roulant sur dcs mcrs de soupirs qu elle effleure
A tracers l’eneens bleu des horizons pal is
Monte reveusement vers la lune qui pleure!

(You made the sobbing white ot lilies too,

tumbling lightly across a sea of sighs on
their dreamy wav to weeping moonlight through
the azure incense of the pale horizon!)4

Similar examples are also found in Japanese wcika and in Basho. Not
everyone perceives things the wav Rimbaud and Baudelaire did, and,
although Liszt is said to have seen colors in sounds, that does not mean
all composers have the same experience. In our everyday life, however,
we use terms like “ sweet talk” for flatterv or “ feeling blue” when we are
depressed. There are also idioms such as warm colors, hot colors, cold
colors or cool colors. And we call an inexperienced person “ green.”
Svnesthcsia is dccplv rooted in our lives.
In all ages and places, svnesthcsia has existed almost as a matter of
course in a variety of cultural phenomena throughout history. In Japan,
in the Asuka (538-645) and Ilakuho (645-710) periods, different col­
ored headgear designated each of the twelve court ranks. Colors are
also associated with the five elements of Yin and Yang, the two cos­
mic principles of ancient China. Manv religions have sacred colors.
In national Bags, colors represent virtues, ethical principles and tra­
ditions. T h e reason the color for “ freedom” differs from one national
flag to another, for example, is that, just as there are linguistic differ­
ences between Japanese and English, the “ language” of color is also
different. T he “ language of flowers” is another phenomenon that mav
have arisen out of a similar background. W horf made an extremelv
interesting comment about synesthesia. “ Probablv in the first instance
metaphor arises from synesthesia and not the reverse.”4S The origins of
synesthesia are hidden deep in the phenomenal world. Might it not he
the ease, Whorf is saying, that the reason synesthetic language exists is
not because it derives from the development of metaphorical expres­
sions hut because phenomena themselves were originallv svncsthctic?
 A discussion of svncstlictcs as extraordinary individuals is far from
the concern of this chapter. It is virtually axiomatic that truth is rare in
strange phenomena whereas mvstcrics manifest themselves in ordiuarv
events. The topic that deserves to he discussed, rather, lies in the fact
that we live our cvervdav lives svncsthcticallv w ithout being aware of it,
and that W O R D appears and is cognized and expressed through mul-
tipl e senses. When wo encounter a phenomenon that is assumed to he
invisible, even though we cannot perceive it with the naked eye, we
feel as though we have “seen” it. Most people have had a similar expe­
rience, 1 suspect. Kven in the ease of the simple act of seeing, people
engage in activities cvervdav that go bevond the normal use of evesight.
The person who was the earliest to notice synesthesia in classical Japa­
nese literature and to write about it in ‘“ Miyu’ no sekai” (The world of
niiyu) w'as Akihiro Satake (1927-2008).49 Although Satakc had audited
a seminar on general semantics that lzutsn gave at Kvoto University in
1955, it was not until 1982 w'hcn Izntsu gave the course on reading the
Koran for the hvanami Citizens’ Seminars series that the two became
acquainted. At the time, Izntsu wras not vet aw'arc of Satake’s research
field, but when lie found out, their relation rapidlv deepened. When
Satake’s Mimva no shiso (Intellectual aspects of folktales) came out in
paperback in 1990, Izntsu contributed an essay to it.s° With the excep­
tion of his own works, there is no other instance of lzutsn w'riting a
commentary for a paperback book. A single reading shows that he had
high expectations of, and great faith in, the younger semanticist.

The Creeks called true reality Ideas, but Ideas were, first of all, visible
things, “forms” as objects of intuition. Behind the ancient Japanese
word m i y u as well, the ancients’ thought process, which grasped exis­
tence through the sense of sight, is seen to have been stronglv at workA
Mivu — seeing — was not just a functional activity of the physical eve,
Satakc insists; it w?as a joint operation of all the senses. Satake fre­
quently discusses synesthesia in his other works as w ell.
Just as Satake dealt w'ith the world of miyu in the Manyoshu, Izntsu
discussed wdiat lay beyond the phenomenal w orld bv wray of the word
nagame in the Shinkokimhu. “ I love the S h in k o k in lzutsn said in his
colloquy w ith Ryotaro Shiba. “ I even once thought I might devote myselt
to a semantic study of the structure of thought in it and the K okin ' ' ' 2
T he period when lie seriously considered making a semantic study of
waka appears to have been between the time of the "Introduction to
Linguistics” lectures and the writing of Language and M agic . Given
Ikeda’s comment earlier that Izutsu "went abroad soon afterwards,” it
mav have been the same period that the two of them were looking for a
joint research topic. Izutsu went abroad for the first time in 1959.
As lie informs us through his use of the terms “structure of thought”
and “ philosophical,” what Toshihiko Izutsu calls semantics is not con­
fined to the realm of linguistics. In linguistics, it is normal to proceed
from a thing to the word that names that thing and then to the meaning
of the word. But Toshihiko Izutsu’s semantics starts from the source;
in other words, it develops from W O R D -> meaning -> word -> phe­
nomenon. W O R D articulates itself into meaning; meaning calls forth
words; and words as energeia evoke a phenomenon as ergon. Rather
than being a search for meaning in words, for Izutsu, the philosophy
of language was the activity of finding a wav to return to Being through
meaning. When Japanese encounter a Manyo poem, our hearts arc
moved even before we intellectually understand what it means. That
is because a consciousness other than our surface consciousness per­
ceives in it the breath of "Being” blowing from its primordial precincts.
It is regrettable Izutsu never completed a semantic study of waka
in book form, and yet there are statements in Ishiki to honshitsu that
give 11s an inkling of what he might have said. As Satake points out,
the word miyu in the Manyo period had signified an Idea-like contem­
plation, but by the time of the Kokinshu this connotation had com ­
pletely disappeared. This was not simply a matter of a word being in
or out of fashion. It suggests that a major revolution had occurred in
the encounter with and approach to "Being,” to borrow Izutsu’s term, a
change that rocked the Japanese worldview to its very foundations.
In the Kokin period, according to Shinobu Orikuchi, the word
nagauie meant “ pensiveness, with a slight sexual connotation linked
to sexual abstinence” during the long rainy period {nagaame) in the
s p r i n g . B y the time of the Shinkokinshu in the early thirteenth cen­
tury, however, the situation had changed dramatically. Poets appeared
who attempted to direct their gaze (nagame) beyond the phenomenal
world, and nagame ceased to he confined to a term denoting a love
affair and came to acquire an ontological “ meaning.” When nagame
“ had evolved complctclv within an ambience that privileged the pur­
suit of a Shinkokin-like yilgen |subtlctv and profunditv|,” Izutsu writes,
it signified “ a conscious, subjective attitude that attempts to render the
‘essential’ specificity of things indistinct and to perceive in the resulting
vast, atmospheric space the depths of Being, which is revealed there
in its true form.” S4 The act of gazing (nagameru) instantlv becomes a
response to Being, “ a unique kind of ontological experience, a unique
kind of relationship of consciousness to the w o r l d . W h a t is called
“ essence” here is the function by which a phenomenon is determined
to be what it is. If there is a moon, for example, there is an underlying
qualitv by which the moon exists qua moon. Nagame, Izutsu savs, is
the activity that breaks through this. To gaze at the moon is not simply
a matter of placing the moon in the visible world; with the moon as
our entry point, wrc look beyond the phenomenal world and “ see” the
dimension in which the moon reveals itself.
It was Shizuka Shirakawa w ho dealt with the function of seeing
in waka w'ith a particular purpose in mind that might even be called
existential. 'That both Izutsu and Shirakawa recognized a basic Japanese
attitude in nagame and miyu, the act of seeing in the Shinkokin and the
A lanyo respectively, is extremely interesting. Rather than merely being
independent scholarly conclusions, their concurrence in this regard may
well derive from a congruence in their existential experiences. When
Tosh ill iko Izutsu deals with a fundamental issue, an existential experi­
ence has ahvavs preceded. Or rather, it is characteristic of him to regard
onlv such an experience as a subject that truly deserves his investigation.
It is fair to see the statement that “ a theory of Ideas must necessarily be
preceded bv the experience of Ideas” in his discussion of Plato in Shinpi
tetsugaku as an expression of his own personal article of faithT6
The following passage is from Shirakawa s Shoki Manyo-ron (On
the early \ lanyo).

The period of the early M a n y d was one in which the ancient view'
of nature still dominated; the popular consciousness was in a partic­
ipatory relationship w'ith nature. It was thought that, through their
 activities and their attitudes toward nature, people could negotiate
with nature and make it function spiritually. . . . The most direct
method of bargaining with nature was through “seeing” it. The act of
seeing, found in main' of the early M c i n v o poems, is an activity that
has just this sort of meaning.5'

“ T h e ineantatorv nature o f ‘seeing’ is further strengthened by the

expression mireclo akcinu | never tire of seeing],” Shirakawa w rites.
T h e act of seeing wras the earliest activity in which people interacted
“ spiritually” w ith the world. What Izutsu and Shirakawa both found in
waka, i.e. in the origins of Japanese poetry, is not a high point of artistic
expression hut a manifestation of Japanese spirituality.’s
The study of ideographs is the field that deals with what Shirakaw a
read into the written wrord, but mv concern is, rather, with why he w'as
able to read them in this w'av. T he same is true in the ease of Izutsu.
Although it is important to discuss how' he read something, the main
theme of this hook is wiiv he encountered certain phenomena and w'as
able to “ read” them. In other w'ords, it is not a matter of how Izutsu
interpreted naganw, it is a matter of w'hv he w as able to “ read” its true
meaning. Shirakaw'a began bv looking at a character. Me lingered in
front of the written w'ord and did not stop until something in it began
to move. What he did next was to copy it out carefully and deliberately.
As he was doing so, Shirakaw'a believed that the written w'ord began to
tell him about itself. D id n ’t Izutsu approach a text in much the same
wa\'? I can’t help seeing the impact of Izutsu’s father here. As was men­
tioned earlier, I believe that the most fundamental influence Izutsu
received from his father w'as that of “ reading.” In their attitude that
scholarship is not a matter of acquiring knowledge, but of preparing for
the manifestation of wisdom, Toshihiko Izutsu and Shizuka Shirakawa
reveal a high degree of unanimity.
’Three essavs w'ritten by Izutsu’s wife, Toyoko, “ Gengo flrudo tosh-
ite no w'aka” (Waka as linguistic field), “ Ishiki flrudo toshite no waka”
(Waka as cognitive field) and “ Shizen m andara” (’The mandala of
nature), provide the grounds that allow' us to infer how' her husband’s
work on a linguistic-philosophical semantics of Japanese classical lit­
erature might have evolved.59 A single reading shows that there was a
profound exchange of ideas between the two of them about “ philo­
sophical semantics.” Thai Toyoko was her husband s best reader is also
elcar from her understanding of technical terms and the closeness of
their literary styles. The following passage is from “ Shi/.cn mandara,”
an essay in the Iwanami series on Oriental thought, for which l/.utsu
served as general editor.

It is conceivable that the poetics of Yaniato k o l o b a — native Japanese

words —and w a k a themselves are nothing less than the intellectual
activity of attempting in a creative and original manner to further
develop within its own indigenous semantic horizon the foreign
thought svstems that were being absorbed not in simple hut in
ahead}- complex forms |while retaining] a structural awareness of
the individualitv and uniqueness of Yaniato k n t o b a ' s own semantic
organization/10
Bv “ the foreign thought systems that were being absorbed not in
simple but in ahead} complex forms,” Tovoko seems to mean not just
such imported ideologies as Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism
but to include Neoplatonism and the Christian sect of Nestorianism,
whieh may perhaps have entered Japan via China at the beginning of
the ninth century around the same time that Kukai introduced Tan trie
Buddhism. Toshihiko believed that Kukai mav have come in contact
with Nestorianism and Neoplatonism in C h ’ang-an, which was a cul­
tural crossroads at the time. Tovoko savs that waka were a declaration
of spiritual independence from foreign influences such as these; thev
also proclaim the dawn of a new wav of thinking that was not confined
to beautv and emotion or the events of the world of religious ecstasy.
As one more clue for inferring what Izutsu’s poetics of waka might
have been, I would like to mention Kcijiro Kazamaki (1902-1960).
Izutsu thought highly of Kazamaki’s accomplishments. Unlike the
Manyoshu neither the Kokinshu nor the waka anthologies that followed
it had been given their proper place in the critical literature sinec the
time of the poet and literal'}’ eritic, Shiki Masaoka (1867-1902). Kei-
jiro Kazamaki’s Chusei no bungaku dento (The literal'}’ tradition in the
Middle Ages) dealt with the decisive change in Japanese poetry that
can he seen in the waka of the Kokinshu and subsequent anthologies; it
also revived the concept of yugen that runs through the Middle Ages.6'
T h e first edition was published in 1940, and reprinted after the war in
1948. Izutsu probably read it around the time that he was coming to
grips with the Kokinshu and Shinkokinshu. “ Through his innovative
approach to the ‘Middle Ages,’ a dccisivclv important period for Jap­
anese literary history, he opened up new horizons for an intellectual
understanding not just of literature but, more broadly, of Japanese spir­
itual history,” was the critique of Chusei no bungaku dento thatToshi-
hiko Izutsu wrote when he was seventv-three vears old.62 That book’s
j j

influence had lasted for more than half his lifetime.

Up until a certain point, Kazamaki composed waka. But “ now, in
addition to my desire to trv to w;rite one good poem, I feel a burgeoning
desire to clearly understand the history of Japanese culture,’’ he said,
and thereafter devoted himself to scholarship.6’ Kazamaki believed that
waka was a medium by w hich the reality of the soul expressed itself
directly through w'ords, unconstrained by the w orld of ethics, virtue or
religion. Discussing the revival of yugen in the Senzaishu (Collection
of a thousand vears, ca. 1188), he w'rote, “Although waka wras reani­
mated in this way, it was, at the same time, the self-conscious establish­
ment of a tradition.” For Kazamaki, tradition is something that, “ so
as not to be lost, is implanted in hearts that are compelled to love it
anew'.”64 Tradition is a life form that chooses those w'ho wall carrv it on.
What w'e ought to care about, he believed, is not found in tbe expres­
sion of individuality but in the manifestation of truth. Perhaps Izutsu,
w'ho wras w'riting Shinpi tetsugaku w'hile reading about the mysteries of
tradition in Kazamaki’s work, may have inwardly added, “ and for phi­
losophy as w'cll.’’
 Translator of the Heavenly World

T h e Translation o f the Koran

translation the Koran is a contradiction in terms. The only

OF

A Koran is the one in Arabic; a translation is no longer the holv

book. Izntsn was, of course, well aware of this. “The Koran in the orig­
inal Arabic is holy scripture,” Izntsn writes. “The Koran translated into
another language is no longer holy scripture; it is a secular work. It is
merelv an extremelv rudimentary commentary on the original text.” 1
And yet he translated it. It was God who chose Arabic. That fact cannot
be changed to suit the convenience of human beings.
The Koran is not a book written by Muhammad; originally, it was
not “written” at all. It was orallv delivered bv God, who spoke through
Muhammad. The Prophet was merelv the channel through which
God appeared in the world we live in. The words of God, spoken over
the course of more than twenty years, were memorized bv M uh am ­
mad and written down from time to time during bis lifetime on palm
leaves or parchment or animal bones. Because the compilation of the
Koran was completed during the reign of the third caliph, ‘ Utlnnan, it
is called the Utlunanic recension. The entire work is divided into 114
chapters or surahs, the oldest of which appear in the latter half, the
more recent in the first half; it was compiled in such a wav that, for the
most part, it goes backward in time. Kirst, God spoke; lie approved the
efforts of the man who rceordcd the divine words; and the holy book,
the Koran, was born. As was rroted in the Prefaee, in reecnt years, the
transliteration Onr’an is usually used to more elosclv approximate the
Arabie pronunciation, but in this chapter, as in the rest of this book, we
will follow’ Izutsu and use the transliteration Koran.

Toshihiko Izutsu translated the Koran twice. In an interv iew toward

the end of his life, he said that he had begun the first translation in 1951
after the publication of Roshia bungaku (Russian literature) and com­
pleted it in 1958.2 This corresponds to the period from the beginning of
the later lectures on “ Introduction to Linguistics” through Language
and Magic (1956) to the writing of The Structure of the Lthical Terms in
the Koran: A Study in Semantics (1959). T he new translation was begun
in November 1961 and completed in December 1963. The translator was
probably aw'are that not many readers were likely to compare the two
versions. And vet the Afterword to the new’ translation conveys the trans­
lator’s strong hope that, if possible, the reader will not limit him/hcrsclf
to looking at the corrections and additions. “This revised translation
is not just a partial revision; the work has been completely rethought
and retranslated.” ’ As the translator himself says, rather than a revised
translation, it deserves to be called a new translation. Between the two
translations, Izutsu had had, for the first time, the experience of studying
abroad. T he Rockefeller Foundation awarded him a fellowship on the
basis of Language and M agic , and, over a two-year period, he visited
Egypt and other Arab countries, as well as Germany, France, Canada
and the United States. ’The conversations he had with Islamic scholars
in Cairo would prov e a decisive turning point for him when it came to
embarking on a new translation. Also, when he visited Germany, he
met Leo Wcisgerbcr and presented his research findings in his presence.
To translate such an enormous bob’ book as the Koran twice in such
a short period of time required cxtrcmelv strong motivation. In addi­
tion to “ the literary stvlc, which is the most important problem,” Izutsu
writes, “ the interpretation of many of the verses has also been revised.”4
'The underlying issue here is an understanding of the linguistic levels
of the Koran. Koran o yonui (Reading the Koran) is the record of a
reading of the Koran that took place over ten sessions at the Iwanami
Citizens’ Seminars in earlv 1982.s An introdnetion to the Koran, this
book also serves as an introdnetion to Toshihiko Izutsu’s thought, one
which deals with the basic structure of his philosophy. And if the Koran
is regarded as poetic literature of the highest order, Izntsn explains and
elucidates how' it came to he. This book could not help hut pique the
interest of literary figures. We have alread\' seen that it moved Shusaku
Kudo. Some twenty vears ago, when I was a student at Kcio, the poet
Gozo Yoshimasu (1939—) lectured 011 poetics at the Mautaro Kubota
Memorial Lecture there using this work as his text. I have forgotten w hat
the lecture wtis about, but I vividly recall w ith what passion Yoshimasu
spoke of his surprise and delight at having discovered this hook.
In this work Izutsu alludes to three “ expressive levels,” i.e. levels
of language, in the Koran. The topology he is speaking of is as follows:

\. the realistic level,

2. the imaginal level,
3. the narrative or legendary level.6

Although it mav not seem particularly provocative to speak of “ lex-

els of expression,” it is not merely a rhetorical matter: These levels sig­
nify the ontological dimensions of the w'orld that the Koran reveals. In
the Koran, the physical, metaphysical and legendary levels are inter­
mixed. If the W O R D of God uttered in the metaphysical world is not
grasped on the realistic level, it will be impossible to come close to
the true meaning concealed in the Koran. The dimension in whi ch
we live on an evervdav basis is the realistic level. The imaginal level
is the place where, for example, transcendental realitv appears and
transforms itself into mvth. It is the dimension in which, to use Hcnrv
Corbin’s term, the imagination creatrice arises. It is also the conscious­
ness level of primal, depth-consciousness images and the shamanic
dimension, the ontological world of the shaman.
T he narrative or legendary level Izutsu calls the “ mcta-historical
level.” Located between the two other levels cited above, it is also the
dimension of meta-history, Izutsu writes. Incidents occur in history, but
thev are also recorded in a dimension that transcends history where
they occur continuously and timelessl}' as current events. Lor example.
the Sln’ite imam in Islam, Kukai in the Shingon sect, and the founder
of Tenri-kvo,
v Miki Nakavama-,
« all continue to live on even after their
phvsieal deaths. 'This is a realitv for their believers, it is not a metaphor­
ical expression; it is nothing less than a truth of faith that exists betw een
the realistic world and the imaginal world. If the imaginal level is a
shamanic world, by contrast, Izutsu savs, the legendary dimension is a
priestlv w'orld, a level presided over bv priests. Moreover, what forms
the cultural background for this dimension, he savs, is a tradition that
descends from Mesopotamia, where human beings established per­
manent settlements at oases, practiced agriculture and engaged in a
temple-eentered religious life. Under “ Mesopotamia” he includes the
cultures of Sumer, Akkad, Babylonia, Assyria and even Egypt. Into the
Koran, Toshihiko Izutsu observes, have entered traditions other than
the spirituality of the desert-dwelling Bedouin nomads or the Abra-
hamie religions of Judaism and Christianity.
T he three levels are tightly interwoven. Something that has hap­
pened in the imaginal or transcendental world becomes a phenome­
non and oeeurs in the realistic world. The converse sometimes mav
also oeeur. What ean mediate in that ease is prayer. In order for us
human beings to cateh a glimpse of the reality of the imaginal w orld,
we must pass through the meta-historieal dimension. But there we
eome under pressure to deconstruct our realistie-world eonecpts.
T h e first edition of Ethical Terms in the Koran (1959) was pub­
lished after the completion of the early translation. As ean be seen from
the fact that it was revised in 1966 after the new translation was com ­
pleted, this work is directly eonneeted to the translations of the Koran."
Indeed, it is in this work that Izutsu reveals the passion for scholarship
that he had kept hidden deep within the translations. Izutsu develops
the semantics of the linguistic inner structure of the Arabic word kufr,
xvhieh signifies “ unbelief,” turning on e’s baek on faith. Kufr has the
meaning of “ ingratitude” and also eonnotes the condition of turning
one’s baek on grace. Expressions that derive from this term oeeur fre-
quentlv in the Koran, and one obvious example is found in the first
verse of Chapter 98, “ T h e Divine O m e n ” (al-Bavvinah: T h e C lear
Proof). T h e old translation reads, “ Both the aeeursed people of the
Book [Jew's and Christians] and the band of idol-wForshippers.” s In the
new translation il lias been elianged to, “ Both the people of the Book
|Jew's and Christians| w ho have turned their baeks on the faith and the
polytheists.”i; Deeply ingrained in the expression “ turned their baeks
on the faith” or “ unbelieving,” w'liieh is used instead of “ aeeursed,” is
his awareness that faith is something that is bestowed, i.e. it is graec.
It includes a profession of his belief that the creation of faith is a work
of God w'liieh human beings are incapable of achieving on their
ow'ii. They mav think thev can decide for themselves whether or not
to believe in God, hut it is not a choice they are able to make. It is
God who allows them to choose. This does not mean that the term
“ aeeursed” disappears from the new translation. But simplv using that
word alone, Izutsu believed, does not convcv the truth that, in the
beginning, God had unstintingly bestowed faith on all people.
Words have meaning. No one denies that. But w hat if w e w ere to
sav that words have a “ depth of meaning” that exists on a different lewel
from their superficial lexical connotation? The quest for a reading at
the “ depth of meaning” was yet another existential reason that spurred
Izutsu on to make a new' translation. Recall the words cited earlier with
w'liieh he expressed his inner feelings at this time. “ I was dissatisfied
with how: casually [linguistics . . .] treated the phenomenon o f ‘mean­
ing’ as a self-evident, commonscnsc fact.” 10 What he wras attempting in
his translations of the Koran wvis w hat can fairlv he called an ambitious
attempt to put his philosophical semantics into practice.

No consideration of the changes in the Koran translations can over­

look Mahometto (Muhammad).11 Though a small work, il cites several
verses from the Koran. Seen below' is one of these from Chapter 112,
“ Purification.” Let us compare it w’ith the same verse in the old and
new' translations. Mahometto wtis written in 1952, around the time that
Izutsu was actively engaged in translating the Koran. He retranslated
this chapter, which occurs in the latter half of the Koran, five vears later.

tk'Mo W

t tz # i><D—*DtzlzU U

m
 Preach: Allah is the One and Only God,
The God of eternity,. **
Not son, not father
And without any peer, One alone.

At th is time, he read the Koran, particularly the revelations of the early

period, as poetry. Open Mahometto at random and you will readily
encounter lengthy verses that have been translated as literary language.
Now let us turn to this same verse in the first translation of the
Koran. T he changes arc small, but the effect is completely different.
No longer is the Koran a euphonious hymn. It becomes a divine oracle
of overwhelming power that has peremptorily intervened in this world.

TFANMF&G
G t? fi£|Jid1GoJ

Iell them, “Me is Allah, the One and Only God,

Allah, the eternal, the indestructible,
Not child, not parent,
Know’ he is God without peer.”1"'

T he title of the chapter, which had previously been translated as “ Puri­

fication,” was also changed to “ By Faith Alone.” In other translations,
it is translated as “ Sincerity ,” which is closer to the original, Al-dkhlas.
Though Izutsu was aware of this, he intentionally translated it “ Bv Faith
Alone.” Implicit in this reading, which goes beyond mere sincerity , is
Izutsu s semantic interpretation that the Transcendent who bestows
faith and the believer w'ho submissively receives it coexist.
The unique style of “ Know’ he is God without peer,” reminiscent of
the words of a shaman, runs through Izutsu’s translation of the Koran.
Here he is trying to revive for today’s w’orld the descent of the divine
word, i.c. revelation. In the pre-lslamic period called the jdhiljyah , a
shaman known as a kdhin held absolute sw’av as the intermediary who
connected this world w’ith the other world. Izutsu explains kdhin with
the example of the prophet Amos in the Old Testament: “ Suddenly, he
was possessed by some invisible spiritual power, lost consciousness and
spoke not his own words but the words o f ‘someone else.” '4 The words
of a kclhin arc not expressed in ordinary language; they have a special
form of utterance known as saj'. 'These are w ords that have made their
descent from an invisible world, an intangible dimension. “ Character­
ized by the rhythmical repetition of the same or similar sounds,” l/.utsu
writes, this rhymed prose has an uncanny resonance like the sound of
a drum, by w hich the listener “ is drawn into an excited state of self-
intoxication.” 1'5 Sc//” is present everywhere in the Koran, l/.utsu tries
to recreate these saj' words as divine W O RD s being uttered now. lie
tries to free them from the historical fact that they came dowai to the
Muhammad more than 1400 years ago and release them once again
into the present daw
In the new' translation, the change occurs not in the literary style,
hut in one important verse.

^ If X, rd i i e &6 ftK

Tell them, “He is Allah, the One and Only God,

Allah, on whom all people depend.
Not child, not parent,
Know he is Cod w'ithont peer.”'6

In the second line, “ the eternal, the indestructible” has been changed
to “ on whom all people depend.” 'The w'ord in the original is Alla-
hus-samad. Shumei Okawa translated it w'ith the Buddhist term shoe-
sha (PJrttiii) and added the gloss “ means someone on whom all arc
dependent.” Izutsu was not following Okawa, however. Okawa s trans­
lation came out in 1950; thus, it already existed at the time l/.utsu was
making his first translation.
During his studies in the Islamic w'orld, Izutsu experienced Islam
in everyday life and encountered the livingV Koran. The Koran is a work
J *
that is meant not to be read but to be reeited. It is not the testimony of
a human being but the revealed W O R D of God. Izutsu experienced
this for himself on bis travels. He also came in direct contact with a
tradition on which mam' wise men in the past bad literally staked their
lives on their interpretation of a single word in the holy book.

Given the faet that eaeh word, each phrase, of the Koran is the word
of Allah himself, it was regarded as the sacred dutv of the believer
to interpret its o n e a n d o n l y eorreet meaning and thereby to fathom
what God’s intention might be. Scholars staked their lives on the
interpretation of a single word, a single phrase, because one could
easilv lose one’s life depending on how one interpreted one word or
one phrase.1'

The interpretation of the term Allahus-samad , too, has the weightincss

implied in the preceding words. Whereas “ the eternal, the indestructible”
signifies the everlasting, unchanging reality of the One, the phrase “ on
whom all people depend,” by contrast, richly expresses the persona of
God, who is both the source of existence and savior.
Several translations of the Koran into Japanese have appeared since
Izutsu s, but none of them is as strongly aware of its saj' rhythm as his
is. To see how' well Izutsu’s Japanese translation succeeds in rendering
saj\ let us compare it to a sc//’’-like passage that appears in Japanese.
T h e event occurred some 170 years ago in the village of Shoyashiki,
Yamabe Countv, Yamato Province (now Mishima, Tenri Citv).

Looking all over the world and through all ages, I find no one who
understands My heart.
 So should it be, tor I lone never taught it before. It is natural that \ou
know nothing.
This time, I, God, revealing Myself to the tore, Teach vou all the
truth in detail.
Vou are calling this place the Jiba, the home of Cod, in Yamato; But
you do not know its origin.

If von are told of this origin in full, (neat yearning will eome over
vou, whoever you mav be.
If you wish to hear and will eome to Me, I will teach vou the truth
that this place is the origin of am’ and everything.lS

These words, which conic at the beginning of the Mikcigiira-ata (Songs

for the serv ice), one of the sacred scriptures of Tenri-kvo, are the
W O RDs of God, w ho appeared to Miki Nakavama in the earlv years.
I alluded before to the structural similarities between 'Tenri-kvo and
Islam; of these, the high degree of correspondence found in the revela­
tion of their sacred texts is astounding.
Speaking of'Tenri-kvo, the Ofudesaki (1900; The Tip of the Divine
Writing Brash , 1971), written bv its founder, Miki Nakavama, is well
know’ll, hut the Mikcigara-utci, the divine WORDs spoken at its inception,
arc chronologically even earlier. In Tenri-kvo, too, the W ORDs of God
appeared not as written words, ecriture, but as sc//’, spoken WORDs that
connect this world w ith the other world. When one reads Mikagara-ata,
their rhvtlim recalls Izutsu’s translation of the Koran. Izutsu has said,
howev er, that, while he was translating the Koran, lie did not refer to
the sacred scriptures of Tenri-kvo. He had not read them at that time, a
fact that Yoshitsugu Savvai v erified with Izutsu himself. It was onlv after
Izutsu’s return from Iran that he showed an interest in Tenri-kvo.
The translation of the Koran below is bv Yoshinori Moroi. We hav e
already seen that he was a remarkable scholar of religious philosophy, a
commentator on Islam and a believer in Tenri-kvo. 'This is his transla­
tion of Chapter 81, verses 15-23.

And so, truly, I here swear bv the waning star, by the falling star, by
the hidden star, or, again, by the night that is passing into darkness
 and by the dawn at its first glimmerings. These truly and accurately
are the words of the nohlo-messenger; these are the words of one
who possesses power at the side of the stern and majestic Lord of the
Throne; these are the words of someone who ought to he obeyed and
who ought to he trusted. And so your companion was not possessed.
Truly and assuredly he saw’ him on the clear horizon.'9

T he phrase “ vour companion was not possessed” elearlv states the dif­
ference between the Prophet Muhammad and a shamanistie keihin. It
is God who speaks through Muhammad, whereas the one who speaks
through the mouth of a keihin is not necessarily the Transcendent.
Yoshinori Moroi made a rigorous distinction in his scholarship based
on this difference. Moroi, who was a believer in Tenri-kyo, had no
need to reaffirm that Miki Nakayama could not possibly have been a
mere shaman.
Here is Izutsu’s translation of the same passage.

Sw’ear: By the setting stars.

By the running stars returning hack to their roost,
By the evening dusk rapidly closing in.
By the light of the brightening daw n,
Tru ly, these are the words of the noble apostle.
[The w’ordsj of the apostle, brave and powerful, w’ho occupied a seat
in the presence of the Lord of the Throne [Allah] and whom all
humankind ought to follow’ and to trust.

Vour companion [i.e. Muhammad] is by no means possessed ....

'There is no doubt that he distinctly saw7him beyond the horizon.20

C om pared to other translations, Yoshinori M o r o i’s translation

seems philologieally more accurate. His is a dignified and beautiful
translation. But from Izutsu’s translation we can elearlv tell that he felt
the sc//’ rhvthmieallv with his whole body. More than merely transfer­
ring words into the mother tongue, translation for Izutsu was nothing
less than an attempt to evoke an a-temporal reality and make it appear
in the present time through the experience of reading.
 Structure and Structuralism

In 1962, around the time that the new translation of the Koran was well
under wav, efforts were being made to have Kyoto University formally
offer a position to Toshihiko Ixutsu. The person behind the move was
linguist llisanosuke Izui (1905-1983). The author of a book on Hum­
boldt,21 Izui may have seen Izutsu as a promising colleague who in
Language and Magic came close to the I lumboldtian school. The fol­
lowing are Izui’s words: “ In explaining botanical morphology, Goethe
said that, beneath the diversity of forms, it was possible to conceive of
the existence of an ur-plant as a single prototype. In regard to language
as well, a single Urpflanze in this sense is not inconceivable. It could
even be said that we hold w ithin ourselves the key to understanding
all languages.”22 What Izui is pointing to is the possibility of a meta­
language. lie, too, was someone who saw at the root of language the
W O R D that transcends words.
Wc saw earlier that Izutsu gave a seminar on semantics at Kyoto
Uniyersity in 1955. Izutsu himself seems to have seriously considered
going to Kyoto, but Kcio University was vehemently opposed. It all came
to naught when Nobuhiro Matsmnoto (1897-1981), not Izutsu himself,
went to Kyoto and formally turned the offer down. Matsmnoto had been
one of the earliest to accurately perceive Izutsu’s exceptional abilities.
Without bis support, Toshihiko Izutsu’s scholarly career might well have
been quite different. Matsumoto’s name almost invariably appears in the
acknowledgments to Izutsu’s early Fnglish-languagc works. Izutsu, who
had said that, when lie entered Keio University, there were hardly any
lectures worth attending except those of Junzaburo Nishiwaki, Shinobu
Orikuchi and Chinese literature specialist Shintaro Okuno (1899-1968),
did, however, take Matsumoto’s course in Oriental studies.
Matsumoto went to France, earned a doctorate at the University of
Paris and returned to Japan in 1928 at the age of 31. 1 laving studied with
Kunio Yanagita and Shinobu Orikuchi, he broadened the purview of
Japanese folklore to include the Orient and attempted to construct his
own Oriental studies that incorporated the study of mythology. After
the Kyoto incident, at Matsumoto’s recommendation, Keio Univer­
sity restructured its virtually nonfunctioning Institute of Philological
Studies and inaugurated the Kcio University Institute of Cultural and
Linguistic Studies, installed-Izutsu as the professor in charge, freed
him from various universitv responsibilities and provided an environ­
ment in which he could concentrate on research. The first director of
the Institute was Nobuhiro Matsumoto. It was a small establishment,
consisting onlv of tw'o full-time professors, Izutsu and Naoshiro Tsuji
(HS99-1979), a specialist in ancient Indian philosophy Matsumoto also
understood and encouraged Izutsu s overseas activities. I11 the vear the
Institute was established, Izutsu accepted an appointment at M cG ill
Universitv as a visiting professor. 'The administration thought it would
let him go to Canada for a while to make up for not allowing him to go
to Kyoto. But Izutsu would never teach at Kcio University again.
Recalling this time, Izutsu v'rote, “ In the event, I was spurred on
bv some irresistible existential impulse.”2" He had received his doctor­
ate surprisingly late, in 1959, at the time he went abroad to studv on
a Rockefeller Foundation fellowship. He did not have a doctoral dis­
sertation in the conventional sense. Presumably because not Inn ing a
doctorate might cause Izutsu some inconvenience in his scholarlv life
abroad, Matsumoto submitted his translation of the Koran and Lan­
guage and Magic in lieu of a dissertation. M cG ill Universitv in those
davs was a mecca for Islamic studies. It wras there that Izutsu became
acquainted with the Iranian Mehdi Mohaghegh. Although Izutsu was
sixteen years older, he had great respect for his younger colleague. In
an interview' some vears later, Izutsu said that, as a result of his chance
meeting with Mohaghegh, his life entered a new stage. The twro men
undertook a joint studv of SabzawarT, the true heir to the Islamic mvs-
tie philosophv of Ibn ‘Arab! and Mulla Sadra. “ It attempted to ana­
lyze in structuralist and historical terms the relation between essentia
and existentia, which is a central theme in SabzawarT’s metaphysical
thought, and then to elucidate its contemporary significance in rela­
tion to existentialism in particular,” Izutsu w'rotc.24 That work was “The
Fundamental Structure of Sabzaw'arTs Metaphysics” in The Concept
and Reality of ExistenceT
SabzawarT, who wras born in nineteenth-centurv Persia, was an
Islamic mystic philosopher. Fie might perhaps be better called a
thcosophist. Izutsu describes “ Sabzaw'arT’s metaphysics” as flikmat
philosophy, from hiknwt, which in Islam refers to divine w isdom, i.e.
theo-softhici or theosophy. Izntsu’s use of the special technical terms
theosophy, theosophici or hiknwt philosophy rather than mysticism or
mystical thought contains the implication that the concepts transmit­
ted by SabzawarT arc not speculative philosophy in the modern sense
hut rather an activity hacked up bv his existential experiences as a mys­
tic. As Izntsn notes, it was Ilcnrv Corbin who translated flikmat phi­
losophy as theosofihici or theosophy. The prefix then- means god; thus,
theosophy means divine wisdom and the system related to it. As with
the term mysticism, however, a few reservations are perhaps in order
when using the word theosophy today. Nowadays we may often think
of theosophy in connection with Madam Blavatskv, Rudolf Steiner or
the young Krislmamurti. But there are theosophical traditions quite
separate from this not only in Islam but in Christianity as well. The
theosophy under discussion here is the Islamic one that flourished
under SabzawarT.
And vet, as is clearly apparent in the ease of the twelfth-ccnturv
Persian su/7, SuhrawardT, the world of theosophy extends well beyond
the framework of religion. When SuhrawardT discussed the thcosophic
tradition, when it came both to probing the depths of experience and
to the philosophical quest, it was not his co-religionists the sufls or
Islamic philosophers whom lie cites as his predecessors but Pythago­
ras and Plato. The fundamental characteristic of theosophy that Izntsn
dealt with in this work is the relationship bv which human beings and
the Transcendent come together and dissolve into oneness. That being
the ease, there is no particular need for religion as an organized com­
munity or for prescribed commandments, theology and rituals. T h e ­
osophy, i.e. gnosis, or what SuhrawardT called ishrciq, Illumination,
intervenes directly in the phenomenal world. The recognition that its
mission is to endow the primal experience of theosophy with a logical
structure and allow it to manifest itself pervades the Islamic thcosophi-
eal tradition.
Just as Mulla Sadra had been virtually forgotten until Corbin and
Izntsn rediscovered him, SabzawarT, too, had lain hidden beneath the
dust and ashes of history. Izntsn mav have firmly intended to resur-
reet this person, but, at the same time, he probably also discovered that
he had a spiritual affinity with him. In his recognition that the funda­
mental subject of philosophv-ks the transcendental Existence and that
the role of human beings is merely to develop a rationale to explain it,
Izutsu also inherits the thcosophist tradition.
As representatives of the existentialism mentioned in the earlier
quotation, Izutsu cites Sartre and Heidegger. (Whether Heidegger
should be included under ‘‘existentialism” is not a matter I will deal
with here.) A comparative study between a nineteenth-century Persian
Islamic scholastic philosopher and tw’cntieth-eenturv existentialists
was never Izutsu s intention. Although he had not vet begun to use the
technical term “synchronic” at this time, what he has put into practice
here is a “ synchronic structuralization” of existential philosophy. The
synchronic attitude with which he discusses specific themes as matters
of current concern, while fully taking into account the temporal and
cultural differences, is already in evidence here and prepares the w'ay
for Sufism and Taoism (1966-1967) and Ishiki to honshitsu (1983; C o n ­
sciousness and essence). Heidegger had sent shock waves throughout
the contemporary world of ideas when he posed the problem that phi­
losophy had thus far dealt only with die Seieude , “ beings,” and not with
das Sein , “ Being.” But turn our sights to Oriental philosophy, and to
Islamic mystic philosophy in particular, and, ever since Ibn ‘Arab! in
the thirteenth century, successive generations of Islamic mystic philos­
ophers have earnestly grappled with Being. For them, Being is nothing
other than transcendental Existence, the ultimate One. T he first giant
in the history of Islamic thought to make this clear was Ibn ‘Arab!, one
of the central figures discussed in Sufism and Taoism.
Izutsu became acquainted with Henry Corbin’s best student, Her­
mann Landolt, at M c G ill University. In 1984, there was a colloquy
between the two of them entitled “ Sufism, Mysticism, Structuralism:
A Dialogue,” in which Izutsu recalls that Landolt’s recommendation
of Claude Levi-Strauss’s La Pensee Sauvcige (1962; The Savage M ind ,
1966) twenty years earlier had led him to learn about structural­
ism.26 Izutsu had not known about structuralism when The Structure
of the Ethical Terms in the Koran was published (1959), but, as one
can tell from the title, it is w’orth noting that even before he became
aware of the so-called structuralist currents of thought, Izutsu’s own
philosophical experience was structural. 'This is also evident from Izul-
su’s extensive use of diagrams in his works. I lis aim in using graphics is
not to simplify the way propositions are expressed; l/.utsu is exceptional
in his abilitv to express himself verhallv. But, for him, W O R D is not
limited to words; diagrams are also W O R D , as are such phenomena
as sound, light, color and even smells. As is clear in his treatment of
mandala in Ishiki to honshitsu, Izutsu is also exceptional in his ahilitv
to read the meaning in iconography.
H i e intellectual trend known as structuralism became well known
in the 1960s, but its birth dates back to 1942 and the meeting between
Levi-Strauss and Roman Jakobson at the Leole libre des halites etudes in
New York's New School for Social Research. Levi-Slrauss newer missed
anv of the lectures on linguistics that Jakobson gave there. When the
lecture notes. Six lecons sur le son et le sens (1976; Six Lectures on Sound
and Meaning, 1978), w'erc published, Levi-Strauss contributed an intro­
duction. “ I promised mvsclf to acquire from Jakobson the rudiments fof
linguistics] which 1 lacked. In fact, however, w’liat 1 received from his
teaching wras something quite different and, I hardlv need add, some­
thing far more important: the revelation of structural linguistics . . . .”2~
What Levi-Strauss means bv the word “ revelation” is the manifestation
of wisdom that presents itself with irresistible force. Given the tact that
a svstem of thought centered on “structure" arose out of a Jakobsonian
linguistic field, it is no wnnder that Toshihiko Izutsu in far-off Japan,
w’ho was a remarkable student of linguisties/pbilosophv of language,
w'ould also be receptive to it. I alluded earlier to his overseas travels on
a Rockefeller foundation fellowship that w'ould lead to his new trans­
lation of the Koran. It was Jakobson wLo read Language and Magic at
that time and rated it highly. The two men never met.

A Comparative Study of the Key Philosophical Concepts in Sufism

and 'Taoism, Izutsu’s major Lnglish-language w'ork, was completed in
1967.2S The Taoism referred to in this w'ork is not the historical Taoism
that begins w ith Lao-tzu and has continued in unbroken succession to
the present day. Izutsu narrows this ancient Chinese mvstical tradition
dowai to Lao-tzu, Chuang-tzu and the poet C l i ’ii Yuan. His treatment
of Sufism is even more restrictive; he deals w ith onlv one person, lbn
‘Arab!. Not only that, but from the more than 400 w orks attributed to
Ibn ‘Arab!, be chooses a single book, the Fusils al-Hikam (Bezels of
Wisdom). The subject matter is, of course, “ a comparative study of the
kev philosophical concepts in Sufism and Taoism ” but the title con­
veys only one aspect of this book. A large work of close to 500 pages,
only about a tenth of it is devoted to a comparison of the two mystical
thought svstems. The greater part consists of stand-alone studies of the
Taoism of Lao-tzu and Clmang-tzu, on the one hand, and the Sufism
of Ibn ‘Arab!, on the other. T he main topic, however, is not limited to
the philosophy and background of these mystics. Had that been the
case, he would probably have divided the book up and published it in
several volumes not as a single w ork.
Ibn ‘Arab! calls the absolutely Transcendent wujiid (Being); Lao-
tzu and Chuang-tzu call it Tao (the Wav). At the risk of being accused
of being too literary, one might say that this long w ork is an epic poem
on Being and the Way. T h e protagonist is not Toshihiko Izutsu, the
author of the book, nor his predecessors in the Oriental philosophy he
is discussing; it is Being or the Wav, i.e. the transeendentallv Absolute.
As the author himself writes in the Introduction, w’hat he is attempting
is nothing less than a discussion of the “ ontological structure” of Ori­
ental philosophy. Izutsu’s focus is not fixed on Ibn ‘Arab! or Lao-tzu
and Clmang-tzu as human beings. Rather, Izutsu attempts to penetrate
beyond their human being and enter with them into the primordial
world of all things that was revealed to them.
Moreover, as he mentions in the Introduction and also at the begin­
ning of the comparative study in Part III, the reason Izutsu wrote this
work w as not simply out of an academic interest in Oriental ontology.
What moved him to write it wras a contemporary problem, the violent
clash of cultures. Although more than twenty years had passed since the
end of World War II , one did not have to look far to see that the world
w'as full of strife. Perhaps he wras recalling the Algerian war, in which
Louis Massignon had been so deeply involved, or the never-ending con­
flicts in the Middle East since the founding of Israel. What is more,
invisible, psychical confrontations were being played out on a daily basis
among cultural communities, involving religions, languages, the arts.
traditions and customs. At no time in history, I/utsu said, has mutual
understanding been a more indispcnsiblc or a more urgent task.
I/utsu describes his purpose in writing this large work bv drawing
on the words of 1 Icnrv Corbin: line dialogue dans la wetahistoire.2l) I lis-
tory for Corbin is a generic term for spatio-temporal phenomena in the
world we live in. There is an urgent need for a dialogue that will go
beyond this, I/utsu obscrycs. Wc have already seen there is a “ meta-his­
torical dimension” in the Koran, but \yhat “ beyond history” also signi­
fies is a meta-historical realm. Belicwing we can find something beyond
dialogue, wc have repeated the dialogue. But if something is to arise
that would break through the unprecedented confusion, it would not
be “ beyond dialogue,” it would be through a “ dialogue in the beyond,”
would it not? The task entrusted to philosophy, and its mission, I/utsu
bclicyed, is to prepare “ a suitable locus” in which such a dialogue
could be actualized

[Mjeta-historical dialogues, conducted methodically, will, I believe,

eventually be crystallised into a p h i l o s o p h i a p e r e n n i s in the fullest
sense of the term, lor the philosophical drive of the human Mind is,
regardless of the ages, places and nations, ultimately and fundamen­
tally one.'0
What I/utsu calls philosophy here might w'cll be thought of as meta­
physics in its original sense. The true study of metaphysics is not con­
ducted separately from physical reality, i.c. from histone it must be
carried out in a form that is directly involved in the urgent topics of the
day. Philosophy demands participation at the practical level.
A study of the line of descent of tw'o representative mystic philos­
ophies within Oriental philosophy max’, at first glance, not seem par­
ticularly timclv, but Izutsu’s aim, wdiich runs consistently throughout
this work, is extremely contemporary and up-to-date, and wc must not
overlook that fact. Indeed, if we were to borrow' the terms he used in
Shinpi tetsugaku, the w'ork itself becomes his personal expression of
katabasis, the mystic’s descent. The via mystica is not complete with
the anabasis , the way up to the world of Mind; its true purpose lies,
rather, in the katabasis, when the mystic brings his/her experiences in
the metaphysical dimension back down to the phenomenal world and
allows Mind to flower there..Both the way up and the way down are
also the main topics of Sufism and Taoism. In Sufism, the ascent is
called fana (self-annihilation), and the descent is called baqa (sub­
sistence). Baq a’ without fana is impossible, yet the via mystica is not
over unless it results in baqa. What is more, in the mvstic philosophy
of Islam, the world changes its form in the respective states of fana ’
and baqa'. A change of consciousness is nothing less than a change in
ontological cognition.
T he title of this book later was changed to Sufism and Taoism: A
Comparative Study of Key Philosophical Concepts , which is closer to
its actual contents. As a result of this work, Izulsu was widely recog­
nized as a philosopher; not just Mireea Eliade and Houston Smith,
but the leading figures in the various fields who gathered at the Hranos
Conference praised it highly. Erom this time on, the world awaited his
pronouncements.

Ibn ‘Arabi

Izutsu’s statement “ Being is W O R D ” not only elucidates his intel­

lectual conclusions; it is also a manifesto that places him in a line
of descent that stretches back to Ibn ‘Arabi. Had he not encountered
this mystic philosopher, Izutsu’s thought would likely^ have been com­
pletely different.
Ibn ‘Arab! was born in Murcia, Spain, in 1165. An Arab, he studied
law and theology in Spain and entered the sufT path as the result of a
vision he saw during an illness. Having received a divine message in
a dream telling him to “ travel to the East,” at the age of thirty-five, he
did so and never set foot in Spain again; he died in Damascus in 1240,
aged seventv-five. His most important works were w'ritten in the Hast.
“ Erom the Occident to the Orient —he was someone who in his own
person lived [w'hat wras to become] the destinv of the history of Islamic
philosophy,” Izutsu w'rites in Isurdmu shisoshi (1975; History of Islamic
thought).’1 Izutsu’s observation that the direction that Islamic philosoph­
ical history was destined to take wras not from East to West, but “ from
the Occident to the Orient,’’ perhaps requires some explanation, lie
is not alluding only to the geographical movement involved in going
from Spain to Damascus. Up until the appearance of Ihn ‘Arab!, Islamic
philosophy was staunchly Greek and, in particular, Aristotelian. “Arabic
philosophy was not a new thought system or a new' philosophical trend
that Islamic peoples were able to develop as a result of their own original
intellectual activity,” l/.utsu writes. “ It was, in fact, Cheek philosophy
dressed up in Arabic garb, . . . more Greek than Islamic in its basic
components.” '2 It was in Avcrroes (Ihn Rushd) that the Cheek tradition
appeared in its most extreme form. He was a giant in Islamic philosoph­
ical history prior to the appearance of Ibn ‘Arab!.
Ihn ‘Arab! met Avcrroes, or, to be more precise, they were brought
together. When Izutsu discusses Ihn ‘Arab!, he frequently refers to the
account of the meeting between them. And, indeed, the story pithily
depicts the special characteristics of both these sages better than any
lengthy analysis of their differences could ever do. If, in some sense,
Isl am was more Greek than Greece, Avcrroes was even more theoret­
ical in his thinking than Aristotle, that is to sav, he went bevond the
Aristotelian philosophy that had been handed down from generation to
generation and tried to return to an ur-Aristotle. He was not an Aristote­
lian pure and simple, however. If something in Aristotle was true, there
was no need to reject it because Aristotle had not been a Muslim. But
any mistakes his predecessor made had to be corrected; criticizing his
predecessor at sueh times would not suffice. Avcrroes was an impartial
thinker who thought that wav.
“ Only One can derive from One,” said Avcrroes. If only one thing
can derive from the One, that means that G o d ’s creation docs not extend
to multiple existents, i.e. to individual human beings. Moreover, though
God and the world arc connected, insofar as it is not a relationship
in which they interpenetrate one another, he denied the survival of
individual souls after death; what remains, Avcrroes believed, is only a
pure “ active intellect.” He also advocated the theory of “ double truth.”
Philosophy and religion each has its own separate truths. Not only is it
not the ease that philosophical truth is invariably the same as religious
truth, it is even possible for the former to contradict the latter. 'This is
not a disavowal of religion, however, but rather a statement of the dif­
ferences between them.
 Ibn ‘Arab! fundamentally revolutionized these three principles. He
believed that the countless Many are born from the One, recognized
the existence of the soul after death, and made it the mission of mystic
philosophy [Irfan) to unify religious truth and philosophical truth.

Ibn ‘Arab! seems to have displayed a unique brilliance from an early

age. l lis exceptional abilities naturally became widely known and were
reported to Averroes. Strangely enough, Averroes and Ibn ‘Arabf’s father
were friends. The old philosopher told the hither he would like to meet
the bov, and one day the father invented an errand and sent his son to
j j

the philosopher’s home. When the old philosopher saw' the young Ibn
‘Arab!, he paid him the highest honor — he stood up and went out to
weleome him. In the Islamic world, it is unheard of for an older per­
son to rise from his seat and receive an inferior. T he old sage clasped
the youngster’s shoulder warmly and said one word, “ So?” “Yes,” the
youth replied. Averroes, it is said, trembled with joy and showed extreme
excitement. Seeing this change of expression, Ibn ‘Arab! suddenly and
vehemently retorted, “ N o !” T he philosopher was saving this: “ My per­
ception of the world is right, isn’t it?” Unsure of what was being asked,
the younger man had hurriedly said, “Yes,” but as soon as he realized
what the question really meant, he immediately said, “ N o!” The old phi­
losopher’s faee went white, he began to shake and did not say another
word after that. That was last time the two of them met.
T h e next time Ibn ‘Arab! saw Averroes again was at his funeral
proeession, w'hen, after his death in Morocco, his body was brought
baek to his hometown of Cordoba on a donkey. On both sides of the
donkey’s baek were large bundles; on one side w'ere the philosopher’s
remains and, on the other, his enormous literary output beginning w'ith
his commentaries on Aristotle. “ Look at this,” Ibn ‘Arab!, now an adult,
said to the friend who had aeeompanied him. “ On the one side, the
body of the philosopher, on the other, his collected works. How I wish
I knew' whether his hopes have been fulfilled in them.”
At first glanee, it may seem that the story being told is about the
decline of Averroes and the emergence of Ibn ‘Arabf, but bv alluding to
this aneedote, what Toshihiko Izutsu was pointing out, first of all, was
Averroes’ greatness. ’The one w'ho goes before lavs the groundwork for
those who follow'; those who conic after such a person know' this best
of all. The mystical ideas of Ibn ‘Arab! did not emerge in opposition to
Avcrrocs’ philosophy; they merged with it. The world may ha\rc recog­
nized the singularity of the young Ibn ‘Arabl, hut Aycrrocs saw in the
box' the arriyal of a crcatiyc rcyolutionary w'lio would break through the
existing paradigms. The riyalry between philosophy and mysticism is
not just something that occurs at the conceptual level; it is a clash in
w'hich lives arc literally at stake. The incident involving the two philos­
ophers not only clearly describes a watershed moment in the history of
Islamic thought —the encounter between philosophy and the via mvs-
tica — it shows that the transmission of ideas is also an activity upon
which not only life, but life after death, is at stake.
As for Avcrrocs, who in the law of causality in a higher sense saw
the existence of the Absolute and the system in which it operates, his
philosophy would he rejected by those who came after him and w'ould
leave no heirs in the Islamic society from w'hich it had sprung. That
thought, how'ever, w'ould later be transmitted to Europe, w'hcre it was
called Latin Avcrroism. Initially a threat to Christian theology, it spread
writh unstoppable force and exerted an influence on medieval scholas­
tic philosophy beginning with Thomas Aquinas, bven Dante, who w'as
scathingly critical of Islam, praised Avcrrocs in the Divine Comedy, and,
thereafter, when anyone in medieval Europe spoke of “ the Commenta­
tor,’’ it was Avcrrocs to w hom they w ere referring. Avcrrocs’ philosophy
did not die out. It wras transformed and developed w ithin the tw'o currents
of thought that flowed like great rivers through medieval philosophy; that
of Ibn ‘Arab!, on the one hand, and of Thomas Aquinas, on the other.
Arabia shisdshi (History of Arabic thought), w'hich wras published
in 1941, ends with Averroes, on the eve of Ibn ‘Arabl’s appearance. The
first w'ork on Ibn ‘Arab! that Izutsu wrote was “ Kaikyo shinpishugi tet-
sugakusha Ibun Arab! no sonzairon” (The ontology of the Islamic mys­
tic philosopher Ibn ‘Arab!) in 1943 (published in 1944)."" But that does
not mean that Izutsu had been unaware of Ibn ‘Arab! at the time he
w'as writing his history of Arabic thought. That encounter dates back
to 1939 at the latest, when, as wrc saw' earlier, he came across Asm Pala­
cios’s La escatologia mmulmana en la Divina Comedia , the work which
says that Ibn ‘Arabf’s ideas inevitably flow'cd into Dante and appeared
in the Divine Comedy , w hich can be called the poetical sublimation of
Thomism. If, according to A$Cn Palacios, the Divine Comedy was w'rit-
ten under the influence of Ibn ‘Arab!, then the influence of Averroes,
which had branched off in two great directions, that of Thomas Aqui­
nas and Ibn ‘Arab!, was once again reunited in Dante. Such an event
is not only quite likely to occur in a mystical context, mysticism aspires
to reconcile and regenerate divergent views. In other words, mysticism
is another name for religious deconstruction. “ What is called mysti­
cism is, in a sense, a dismantling operation within traditional religions,
I believe. In the final analysis, I think that mysticism is in some wav a
deeonstruetionist movement inside religion.” "4 Although it was late in
his life when Izutsu made this reference to Jacques Derrida’s decon­
struction, he seems to have had similar view's from the verv start of his
studies on Ibn ‘Arab!. For Izutsu, the encounter w'ith this mvstic philos­
opher had from the outset an intentionality that transcended the exist­
ing framew'ork of religion.
If we read Izutsu’s work on Ibn ‘Arab! as a studv of Islamic mystic
philosophy in the narrow7sense, we lose sight of the “ dismantling” qual­
ity that is a fundamental aim of mysticism. Izutsu does not tie Ibn ‘Arab!
j *

dow'n to the Islamic tradition. He places him in an open-ended posi­

tion facing w’hat he calls the “ Orient.” Such an understanding allowed
him to choose the format of Sufism and Taoism that “ synehronieally
strueturalizes” twro great currents of Oriental mystic philosophv, Ibn
‘Arab! and Lao-tzu/Chuang-tzu, for whom there is no evidence what­
soever that their paths intersected in the phenomenal w'orld. Pater, he
w'ould also deal w'ith the svnchronic
0 intersection between these mvstic*

philosophers and the world of the Avatamsaka-sutra (Garland Sutra),

Dogen’s theory of time, Plotinus and Jewish mysticism.
There w ould have been no reason for foreign researchers to be
aware of a study of Ibn ‘Arab! published in a Japanese scholarly jour­
nal during the w;ar. It is w'orth noting, how'ever, that Izutsu w'as waiting
on him at roughly the same time as Henrv Corbin, who w'ould later
became the foremost authority on Ibn ‘Arabf. Although the place of
publication may have been on wiiat w'as, at that time, the fringes of the
academic world of Islamic studies, wiaat Izutsu attempted was at the
forefront of world scholarship. Compared to the studv of Ibn ‘Arab! in
Sufism and Taoism, which is close to ^oo pages long, the twenty or so
pages on the Islamic nivstic philosopher’s ontology is certainly no more
than an introduction. But the personality of the author is full}' felt, and
the shock of his encounter with Ibn ‘Arab! and his existential erv as lie
goes in quest of the Absolute that arose from it are clear in this early
essay. What be deals with there is nothing less than the meaning of
philosophical resurrection and rebirth and their absolute indispcnsabil-
itv. “The mystical experience is an astonishing rebirth in the human
spirit; it lias the momentous significance of dying in the Absolute and
being reborn anew.” ' 15 fo r Izutsu, who wrote these words, a mystical
experience is not an experience of some mysterious c\cnt. It was to die
in the Absolute and live anew. It was to know with one’s own body the
reality that death and rebirth were inseparable from one another.
Around the time Izutsu was writing the essay on Ibn ‘Arab!, be was
giving the lectures at Keio on the history of Greek mystic philosophy
that would sene as the prototype for Shinpi tetsugaku (1949; Philoso­
phy of mysticism). "Phis main theme would be developed in that work
to an even more penetrating degree. The philosopher’s melete thamitou
(training for death) that Plato speaks of is “ the practice of the via purga-
tiva, the attempt to live in the spirit bv dying in the flesh; it is a ‘training
for life,’ the attempt to attain to a nobler life by abandoning a baser
one.” ’6 The mystic philosophy of Plato, Izutsu believes, is nothing less
than a mystical philosophical discussion ot death. ’That what he calls
death here does not mean the death of the body in the phenomenal
world is clear from the fact that he says that the “ training for death” is a
“ ‘training for life,’ the attempt to attain to a nobler life.” And, as Izutsu
wrote in his study of Ibn ‘Arab!, the core of the mystical experience is
not dying hut “an astonishing rebirth,” namely, “ dying in the Absolute
and being reborn anew.” This statement, too, supports that contention.
Likewise, in Sufism and 'Taoism, Izutsu cites Ibn ‘Arahl’s statement that,
in the encounter w’ith divine wasdom, “ souls are enlivened by knowl­
edge and are delivered from the death of ignorance.” ’" Death is no less
than a transmigration from the phenomenal w'orld to the Real World.

If a person, who has been touched by the subtle operation of the

spirit and whose mind’s eye has been opened, sees, the One that is
 onto,s on appears1 clearlv and vividlv beneath each and every one of
the phenomenal Mam'. That is precisely the reason that the One, i.e.
God, is said to see in the person who secs everything, and to hear in
the person who hears everything. Thus, the One must he said both to
exist in all things and also to transcend all things.

T he style is reminiscent of Shinpi tetsugaku. Though not easy reading,

the reverberating rhythm conveys the dynamism of the event occurring
within him. Philosophy for him at this time is not a mere speculative
activity. It is inseparable from spiritual salvation. T he term “ operation
of the spirit” refers to the dispensation or will of the transcendental
Reality.
“The One must be said both to exist in all things and also to tran­
scend all things.” T he One is absolute Being, which is both omnipres­
ent in beings and transcends them all. This is nothing less than Ibn
‘Arabf’s core idea of the “ Oneness or Unitv of Existence.” Contrast this
with Averroes’ words earlier that “ onlv One can derive from One,” and
the difference becomes readily apparent. T h e world is such that it is
not a matter of One to One, but of One being Many and Many being
One. The phenomenal world is full of countless beings, none of them
alike. Beings are continuing to multiply at this verv moment. But seen
through the eves of a mystic, that multiplicity'’ converges, and the world
is seen as Oneness. Indeed all beings are self-manifestations of this
Oneness. T he Oneness that Ibn ‘Arab! is speaking about is synonymous
with Being, i.e. the Transcendent. To be more precise, the form in
which Being originally manifested itself is Oneness. T he One contains
countless Many. If the One did not exist, the Many could not exist.
Izutsu uses the analogy of mirror images that Ibn ‘Arab! used, but
for me the metaphor of ink and the written word that Corbin writes
about is easier to understand. In the mirror metaphor, there is a single
object and man}’ mirrors surrounding it. T he reflections in the mirror
increase as the number of mirrors increases, but the reflected objeet
itself remains one. Even if we were to break a mirror we didn’t like, the
only things that are destroyed are the mirror that the human hand had
struck and its reflection. Human beings are far removed from reality.
The other metaphor about ink is simpler but seems better at conveying
thc dynamism of creation. The ink that printed the letters we are now
reading is a single entitv, but the letters created from it are infinite.
Moreover, people don’t see ink w hen thev look at the letters; thev sec
the symbols that have been made to appear there, and they think they
understand them.
Although Being, wTich Ibn ‘Arab! calls the ultimate reality, is also
God, it is, rather, the absolute, unartieulated reality that precedes w’hat
we think of as God. The reason Ibn ‘Arab! speaks of Being and not God
is probably because he did not think that the w'ord “ G o d ” comes near
to signifying the absolutely Transcendent. Kven though Being max' be
God, it is nothing less than the ontos on , the Absolute {\\aqq)y that
manifests itself. The Absolute undergoes self-manifestation ( tajallT)
in stages. It manifests itself first as absoluteness, God and Lord; then,
it becomes half-spiritual and half-material phenomena; and finally it
reveals itself as the sensible w orld. All things and all phenomena that
exist, i.e. all beings, not only belong to Being, they arc nothing else
than self-extensions ot it, the determinate aspects of its self-manifesta­
tion. Ibn ‘Arab! calls this monistic concept of Being in Islamic mystic
philosophy “ the Oneness or Unit}' of Existence.”
Izutsu uses the term the “ self-manifestation” of Being; “ to mani­
fest” means that a hidden something, a Reality that transcends the five
senses, appears; the w’ord is used particularly in regard to a spiritual
being. In the term “ the Oneness or Unity of Existence,” there is the
connotation of a mystical participation in the One. “ Unity” is not the
same as “ union.” Union suggests twro separate entities becoming one,
w’hcrcas unitv denotes an organic situation in which things arc inex­
tricably connected. Gonscqucntly, instead of saying “ a flow'cr exists,”
Izutsu writes, we ought to say that “ existence flow'ers,” i.e. makes itself
appear as a flow'crW This phenomenon is not limited to flowers; it is a
principle that operates in all beings, and is true in the ease of human
beings as w'cll. We arc all articulated from, and share in. Being as the
result of its self-manifestation.
What must not he overlooked here, however, is that “ manifesta­
tion” is “ self-determination.” Although Being is truly perfect, the reason
that human beings, wrho are manifestations of it, are all too imperfect
is due to determination, i.e. “ the Absolute as manifesting itself in a
concrete (determined) thing.”40 For Being, for example, “ time” —qual­
itative time —means eternity,* but for beings, time is merely temporal­
ity, quantitative time, measurable and irreversible. Although eternity
is included in temporality, one would have to transcend the limits of
rational understanding to catch sight of it there. Quantitative time, too,
is a being.
On the other hand, although each individual human being is
imperfect, insofar as human beings are also the self-manifestation of
Being, signs of perfection are hidden in them. T h e Perfect Man is
possible. Muhammad is the classic example, I bn ‘Arab! believes. T he
M uham m ad spoken of here is not his bodily presence but an invisi­
ble Muhammad nature. It is Muhammad qua spirit into whom Being
has articulated itself. In Islamic philosophy, Avcrroes was the first to
assert the possibility of a Perfect Man. Although his perception of this
differs from Ibn ‘Arabf’s, the two men are remarkably similar in recog­
nizing an ultimate potential for perfection in humankind. "Phis princi­
ple of Being operates equally in us as well. Muham m ad in his bodily
state does not know all the meanings hidden in the spiritual Muham-
mad-Realitv. For Ibn ‘Arab!, it is the mission of human beings to make
manifest the Perfect Man latent in all of us.
The signs of this perfection do not necessarily appear in forms that
human beings might expect. Nor do they necessarily materialize in
social situations that are obvious to the eyes of most people. Rather,
we sometimes see the brightness of Being in a person struck down bv
disease, deprived of freedom, for whom nothing is left but death. When
we see death arrive and light envelope them, we realize that the poten­
tial for sainthood had been hidden in these people, who during their
lifetime had seemed rather ordinary even to themselves. We are made
to realize that, already from the time they are in “ life,” they had passed
through “ death” in the spirit and lived a true “ life.” In them, we wit­
ness in its literal sense the true meaning of the mvsterv, “ Who knows
whether life be death and death be life?”
Behind Ibn ‘Arabl’s idea that, for the Absolute, creation is not a
matter o f producing something ex nih 'ilo but the manifestation of
Self, is the firm conviction that Being is an immeasurably profound
“ M crew” Ibn ‘Arabi calls this the “ breath of the Merciful” from the fact
that “ the Divine aet of bringing into existence the things of the w orld”4'
exists equally in all things. What Izutsu develops in his discussions of
God in Sufism and Taoism is nothing less than a phenomenology of
mercy. The mere}' that is poured out on the world is not something
that increases or decreases through the initiative of beings. The initia­
tive is ahvavs from God, but because mere}' exists so w'idelv and deeply,
human beings tend to forget that the}' receive it. And yet “ the Divine
act” never ceases. The very fact of existence is a sharing of merev.
Ibn ‘Arahl’s mystic philosophy is the mvstic philosophy of Being.
He docs not analyze it from the viewpoint of beings; lie elucidates the
mystery of Being latent in beings from the viewpoint of Being. Ibn
‘Arab! calls the loci in w'hich Being articulates itself as beings the “ eter­
nal forms.” These “ determine both the basic shapes and directions in
which [Being in its various guises] manifests itself phenomenally.”42
They are also the “ reality midw'av between something and nothing,”
Izutsu writes.4"1 A flow'er is not God himself; nor does God reside in
the flow’er; the Bower is one form of the self-manifestation of Being.
In reference to this, Izutsu cites a passage from the JuidJth (reports of
statements or actions attributed to the Prophet preserved as a sacred
tradition rather than a sacred text) that Islamic mvsties like to quote: “ I
was a hidden treasure, and I desired to be know'll. Accordingly I created
the creatures and thereby made Mvsclf known to them.”44 The “ I” w'ho
savs “ and thereby made Mvself know'll to them” is not, of course, the
Prophet. It is God speaking through the Prophet. It is the “ I” who man­
ifests itself in the world through articulation.

Lao-tzu, Chuang-tzu and Ch’ii Yuan

Although man}' points in Part II of Sufism and Taoism , “ Lao-tzu &
Chuang-tzu,” are w'orth special mention, here I w'ould like to single out
three of them: the assimilation of Confucian thought in Lao-tzu and
Chuang-tzu, and in Lao-tzu in particular; Taoism as a religion; and
shamanism as the source of Lao-tzu’s and Ghuang-tzu’s ideas. The fact
that preconceived notions continue to underlie each of these topics to
this very day —notions that deserve to be called stubborn prejudices — is
counterevidence for the novelty of Izutsu’s observations.
 At the outset of Part II, Izutsu refers to Taoist studies bv Sokiehi
Tsuda (1873-1961) and indicates his basie agreement with him. Sub­
jecting the Book of Lao-tzu, i.e. the Tcio Te Clung , to a critical textual
analysis, he concludes that, as a written work, it probably postdates the
compilation of the works of Mcneius (372-289 B C E ), to sav nothing of
the Analeets themselves, and came into existence in response to them.
There is a story in the Sink Chi (Book of History) that Lao-tzu was a eon-
temporary of Confueius (551-479 B C E ) and that the two of them met.
On the other hand, some people say Lao-tzu was not a real person at all,
that he is nothing more than legend. But the problem of understanding
the historical facts poses no obstacle to research for Izutsu; the existence
of the text of the Tcio Te Clung , with its firm philosophical structure, is
sufficient. That work also contains manv words and phrases that seem
to have been taken from works by Mo-tzu (470-391 B C E ), Chuang-tzu
(369-286 B C E ) and other texts that belong to a later period. It is quite
possible that the text that has come down to us today was edited and
reedited several times in the Han Dvnastv (206 B C E - 2 2 0 C E ), and that
additions and interpolations were made at that time. Thus, it is highly
unlikely that the written work is the direct produet of a particular per­
son. And vet it is impossible to support the view that it is a compilation
of various miscellaneous material beeause, as Izutsu makes his own view
elear, “ there is a eertain fundamental unity which strikes us everywhere
in the book. And the unity is a personal one. In fact, the Tao Te Clung
as a whole is a unique piece of work distinctly eolored by the personality
of one unusual man, a shaman-philosopher.”45
Izntsu’s observation that a single personality pervades the Tcio Te
Clung should not be overlooked. What he is pointing out here is not
“ individuality” in a phenomenal-world sense; it is nothing other than
“ persona” as a self-manifestation of the transcendental Reality. What
gives expression to this persona with his own body is the shaman. But
the shaman that appears here is not a mere medium. He is also some­
one who meditates on the message, gives it logical shape and trans­
forms it into a vision, in other words, a philosopher. Izutsu sees the
same persona-like evolution in Ibn ‘Arab! as well. Ibn ‘Arab! is said to
have written more than 400 long and short works during his lifetime.
Setting the numbers aside, Izutsu senses an activity that transeends
human intelligence in the profoundly dec]) visions described in them
and in the sublimity of the vertical expansion of their logic.

|T]hc problem of the One and the Many is for Ibn ‘Arab! primar­
ily a matter of experience. No philosophical explanation can do jus­
tice to bis thought unless it is hacked by a personal experience of
the Unit\- of Being. . . . Philosophical interpretation is after all an
afterthought applied to the naked content of mystical intuition. The
naked content itself cannot he conveyed bv philosophical language.
Nor is there any linguistic means by which to convey immediately
the content of mystical intuition.46

Mystic philosophy contains a fundamental paradox: T h e person

describing the experience begins from the impossibility of expressing
it in language. Because there are no words to describe it, shamans try
to relate the events they have personally w itnessed through such means
as metaphors, stories and iconography. These are not at all intended as
self-expression. Although the term “ shamanic” is not appropriate for
Ibn ‘Arab!, who lived in an Islamic culture, even in his case, the subject
making the pronouncements is not Ibn ‘ArabT; he vehemently insists
that it is Being, having manifested itself as a vision, wdio is speaking.

Taoism, Izutsu says, is a “ religion,” a unique development of C o n ­

fucianism. The earliest person to make this observation wras Henri
Maspero. Maspero wras the first to treat the Taoism of Lao-tzu and
Chuang-tzu as a religion consonant wath Islamic mysticism or Chris­
tian mysticism. In other w'ords, Maspero made a strong case for Taoism
not as folk phenomenon that teaches techniques for cultivating lon­
gevity, but as nothing less than a religion that aspires to personal sal­
vation and eternal life. In this book, Izutsu makes clear that his own
observations w'crc strongly influenced by Maspero, and a respect for
the French Sinologist infuses his waiting style. lie is dealing with a sub­
ject he had inherited from Maspero, who had begun discussing it hut
wdiose death had prevented its completion. Maspero signaled the dawai
of modern Taoist studies and laid its foundations. Louis Massignon,
w hom Izutsu also held in high esteem, wras a classmate of Maspero’s,
and the two enjoyed a w'arm friendship.
 One clay in 1944, Maspero was arrested by the Gestapo and died in
a concentration camp. Because his son was a member of the French
Resistance, lie, too, was suspected of involvement and sent to Bueh-
enwald. Even though he was weakened by prison life, his thoughts are
said to have turned to his unfulfilled vision of the “ Orient.” In 1950, fix e
years after his death, Le Taoisnie was published.4’ T h e world greeted
this w’ork with amazement. Maspero had been a renowned expert on
Chinese history during his lifetime, hut his study of Taoism, a topic
virtually neglected even in China, had not been widely known. After
M aspero’s death, his editor, Paul Dcmicville, who had also been his
friend, began putting his posthumous papers in order, paticntlv recon­
structing the scattered remains that were still in the rough-draft stage.
It was a task that resembled repairing a broken vase. “ I Ienri Maspero
was the first and, thus far, almost the only one in both the West and
the East to have undertaken a scientific exploration of the history and
literature of Taoism at this time,” Demievillc wrote.48

Lao-tzu is, no doubt, a figure of legend. And yet that very fact
connects him to the state of C h ’u (present day Hunan and Hubei
provinces). “ By the ‘spirit of C h ’u,’” Izutsu writes, “ I mean what may
properly he called a shamanic tendency of the mind or a shamanic
mode of thinking.”49 In addition to the latent shamanic tendencies in
Lao-tzu, Izutsu alludes to C h ’u Yuan, the leading poet of the Ch'u Tzii
(Elegies of C h ’u), and to Chuang-tzu as classic examples of the “spirit
of C h ’u.” T h e C h ’u Yuan (343-283 B C E ) of historical fact is said to
have been a high-ranking statesman. He w as “ a man of utterly uncom­
promising integrity in a w'orld that wras ‘muddv and turbid, ” Izutsu
writes in Ishiki to honshitsu.s° “A man of moral puritv, he saw' him ­
self as a tragic figure in a w'orld rife with immorality and injustice.” "1 A
courtier loyal to the king of C h ’11, after repeated falls from pow’er, he
became a wanderer visiting holv places as a shaman. I Ie drew' the voice
of historv from the earth and the voice of truth from human souls.
Eiuallv,
* he was chosen bv Heaven to transmit its will, in other w'ords, to
j

live as a shaman. This is the journey of C h ’u Yuan.

T he poet as sh am an —wras the fact that C h ’u Yuan was a poet an
exception, one winders? If, as Shizuka Shirakawa savs, the Written
Word is God, and a poem is a phenomenon that restores the perfeet
eonneetion of a number of Written Words and expresses the true state
of the world, then a true poet must in a basic and primordial sense
he a shaman, must he not? It is we moderns, rather, I suspect, who
have lost sight of the true nature of shamans w hen we expelled them
from the civilized world for being “ extremely vulgar and barbaric.”
What Izutsu calls a shaman is nothing less than a spiritual visionary.
“The state of divine possession, to call it bv its traditional term, is the
self-deification of a human being, the union of man and god (the pro­
ponents of Semitic monotheism despise it as an extremely vulgar and
barbaric union, but setting aside whether that view is right or w T o n g ) ,
the protagonist of that experience ought to be the divine subject.” "'
Since Shinpi tetsugaku, Izutsu had consistently asserted the view that
the subjeetofa mystical experience is the non-human Being, God. But
the problem here lies in his parenthetical eonnnent.
T h e “ proponents of Semitic monotheism” mean Jew'ish, Chris­
tian and Islamie theologians and the philosophers w'ho have been
heavily influenced by them, but, Izutsu insists, even though they mav
“ despise” C h ’ii Yuan’s mystical experience as “vulgar and barbaric,” he
himself does not agree w'ith them. Perhaps assuming that his Japanese
readers might feel far removed from Semitic monotheism, Izutsu does
not allude to this again, but, in this one passage, Izutsu expresses his
fundamental view' of religion almost as a confession, i.e. that, even out­
side of Semitic spirituality7, the w7ay to God is awe-inspiring and that he
himself had witnessed it firsthand.
As we saw' earlier, Izutsu first dealt w'ith the issue of shamanism in
Shinpi tetsugaku. A shaman is someone who experiences enthousias-
mos, being filled w'ith God, not someone who tells fortunes or predicts
the future or speaks in tongues. At least, these latter are not the qual­
ifications for w'hat Toshihiko Izutsu believes to be a true shaman. In
Shinpi tetsugaku, he also discusses poets as those who announce the
a p p e a ra n e e o f p h i1o so p h e rs.
According to Izutsu, the “ shamanistic existence . . . can he thought
of as a psychic structure consisting of three levels or stages of self-aware­
ness, caeh w'ith a different d im e n s io n .D is c u s s in g C h ’ii Yuan and the
world of his poem “ Li Sao” (An encounter w'ith mv own sorrows) in the
Ch'u Tz'u, Izutsii develops a theory of the multidimensional, multiva­
lent eonseiousness of the shaman.

1. the empirical ego of an ordinary person living in three

dimensions;
2. the ecstatic ego open to self-deifieation and the unit}' of God
and man;
3. “ the consciousness of the disembodied subject playing in
shamanistic, imaginal space.” 54

A few caveats are needed for the terms Izutsu uses to describe the third
level. The disembodied subject “ playing” here is no longer C h ’ii Yuan
the man but C h ’ii Yuan the full and perfect shaman.
“ To find philosophical significance in surreal visions, transform
shamanistic mvths into svmbolic allegorv and weave into it ontological
and metaphysical ideas requires the secondary manipulation of a phil­
osophical intelligence that surpasses still further the third stage of sha­
manistic consciousness. In the intellectual world of ancient China, the
philosophy of Chuang-tzu, 1 believe, is the thought system of a person
who had started out from a shamanistic base in the sense just discussed,
but who had transcended shamanism.” 5" Chuang Chou —Chou being
Chuang-tzu’s personal name —was a shaman, Izutsu is saying, thus he
reads the “ Book of Chuang-tzu” as the W O R D s disclosed to a shaman.

Chuang-tzu is a thinker who develops his splendid and sublime meta­

physical speculations through a series of symbolic tales and allegories
that weave together “imaginal” images which are constantly welling
up from the depths of eonseiousness and existence. In so doing, he is
no longer a pure shaman of the type represented in the “Klegies of
Ch’u.” This resident of the “Village of There-ls-Absolutelv-Nothing”
{ m i h o y u c h i h h s i a n g ) has already risen far above primitive shaman­

ism. The eelestial journey described at the beginning of the “Book

of Chuang-tzu” of the Bird P eng —whose back is so large that
nobody knows how manv thousand miles wide it is, whose wings, like
huge clouds, beat the surface of the water for 3,000 miles, and who
rises up to a height ot 90,000 miles to the Lake of Heaven —has a
 philosophical symbolism quite unknown to the shamanistic celestial
journey [that Ch’ii Yuan recounts in j the “Li Sao.”s6

What we see here is the eentral theme of Supsin and I'aoisni as w ell as
a summation of Izutsu’s stucK' of Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu. Kveu in the
ease of Ibn ‘Arab!, who is described as the elassie example of Sufism,
lzutsu presumably thinks — although the “ proponents of Semitic
monotheism” would disagree — that his, too, is “ the thought system of
a person who had started out from a shamanistic base . . . |but| had
transcended shamanism.” It was his firm eom ietion, unchanged since
Shin pi tetsugaku, that shamanism is wiierc philosophy began.
M any people have seen Chuang-tzu as a turning point in the
deyelopment of Oriental thought. On the other hand, and, this is only
a personal \’iew, with only one exception, I know of no other instance
of someone who has taken note of the tradition of shamanism that runs
through Oriental thought like an underground stream, and the sudden
welling up from it of philosophy.

flic text of “Book of Clniang-tzu” is unprecedented as an intellectual

document; there is virtually nothing like it. It makes free use of the
subtle logic of the jixia Academy [ea }18-284 BCK| and translates
into reality the protean spiritual world of the Transcendent through
figures of speech that go to the extremes of expansiveness and extrav­
agance. This giant [Chuang-tzu] called hack the logos that had been
lost after Confucius. Words recover their free and unrestricted vital­
ity. But in an ancient period such as this, where did this style, which
would astonish even a modern existentialist, come from? If we were
to look for something close to it, the onlv parallel would seem to he
jifu [a tvpc of literature between prose and poetry] beginning with
the “Li Sao” of the “blcgies of Ch’u,” but originally it was the litera­
ture of shamans.'’

Just as lzutsu called Chuang-tzu a shaman, Shizuka Shirakawa, in

his Koshi den (1972; Life of Confucius) cited above, writes that C o n ­
fucius was the son of a shamaness, a wise man and also someone who
performed rituals fot the dead. T he founder of Confucianism depicted
in Shirakawa’s biographv is not a mere sage who travels in search of a
state to serve. lie is a shaman who aspires to record all the W O R D s
from heaven without exception. Shirakawa reads the Analects as the
record of a shaman, a holy person possessed by divinitv. Alluding to
the passage in chapter seven of the Analects, “ transmit, do not create,”
Shirakawa writes, “These words of Confucius indicated that what C o n ­
fucius calls the wav is nothing less than the embodiment of | Plato’s |
Ideas.” 58 In Ishiki to honshitsu , Izutsu dealt with C o n fu ciu s’ “ rectifi­
cation of names” — the thesis that a semantic discrepancy has crept in
between a word and its objective referent— in conjunction with Plato’s
theory of Ideas.59 If the prophets of the Old Testament and M u h a m ­
mad, as well as Confucius and Clniang-tzu, are regarded as recorders
of the W O R D s of Heaven, both Shizuka Shirakawa and Toshihiko
Izutsu are their outstanding translators.
To revitalize the divine language —the W O R D of God or the Writ­
ten Word that was with Cod —that had descended to earth but with the
passage of time had become difficult to decipher, for the two of them,
the way that converged on this was scholarship.
 Eranos — Dialogue in the Beyond

'Pile “'rime” of Eranos

sonic ten or so speakers arc invited to be
v e r y y e a r in a u g u s t ,

E official lecturers at the It! ran os Conference, which is held for ten
davs in Ascona, Switzerland, on the shores of Lago Maggiore. Each
lectures on a theme announced the previous vear, to an audience of as
man\' as 400 people who have gathered from all over the world to listen.
The other invited lecturers are also important participants in each of the
lectures being given. Beginning in 1967, Tosh ill iko lzutsu gave twelve
lectures there, and lie was to he personally involved with Eranos for
fifteen vears; in the latter half of this period, his was a central presence.1
Idle subjects he discussed were “ not onlv . . . Zen Buddhism,
hut also the metaphvsics of Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzii, the semantics
of Confucius, such ontologies and the theories of consciousness as
Vedanta philosophv, Ilua Yen philosophy, and Yogaeara philosophy,
the semiotics of the I Clung , Confucian philosophv represented by the
Ch eng brothers, ClYeng 1 C l i ’uan and C h ’cng Ming Tao, and Chu-
tzfi, the shamanism of [the] C l i ’u T z ’fi and so on.”2 All of these would
later become main topics in Ishiki to honshitsu (1983; Consciousness
and essence). Eranos, it would he fair to say, nurtured Tosh ill iko lzutsu
the philosopher and brought his philosophy to completion. “ The
synchronic structuralization of Oriental philosophv,” the phrase that
served as the subtitle when Ishiki to honshitsu first came out in serial­
ized form, sums up Izutsu’s fifteen years at Eranos.

In broad daylight, i.e., in the world of light where all earthly things,
manifesting their contours respectively, splendidly rise to the surface,
twilight emerges and deepens. Things, losing their clear distinctions
from one another, become floating and unstable, lose their own orig­
inal formation, as they mingle and permeate one another, and grad­
ually attempt to return to the primordial chaos. . . . The momentary
darkness, just before all earthlv things are submerged in the cavern­
ous darkness and completclv brought to naught, has an inexpressible
fascination.’

This is the spiritual landscape of Eranos that Izutsu saw. It would not
have been strange had this passage occurred in his study of Tyutchev in
Roshiateki ningen (1953; Russian humanity'), where he once described
that “ inexpressible fascination” as “ unbearable.” Although the preced­
ing sentences were written when Izutsu was seventv-six vears old, he
had lived the “ spirit of Eranos” long before he ever attended the Eranos
Conference. Izutsu continues the passage above in this way: “ In short,
there is the other side in Being. It is the other side of Being, that is, the
deep area of Being. Only in the other side of Being, is there the mvstery
of Being.”4 I have alluded to this manv times before: Being does not just
mean beings; it designates the Absolute who causes them to be.

There is an essav entitled “ Le temps d’Eranos” bv Henry Corbin,

who for manv vears was a driving force behind the Eranos Conferenced
The name “ Eranos Conference” is not appropriate, he writes; Eranos is
neither an academic gathering nor a current of thought, it is a “ time.”
d ime appears in the guise of Eranos. T im e is a meta-historieal phe­
nomenon that elucidates for the phenomenal world the reality of the
transcendental world. It does not appear merely as a result of historical
necessity; rather, it signifies a manifestation of the transcendental will. It
is not just timely; it is fundamentally timeless, i.e. eternal. (Had Eliade
written this, he would probably have added the adjective “ sacred.” ) It is
a time that is invisible, indeterminate, that changes with the beholder.
Rather than being Corbin’s account of Kranos, it is as though a living
thing called Kranos is speaking through Corbin in this essav.
T h e archetype bv which Izutsu perceived Kranos was “ spirit.”
Alluding to the end of regularly scheduled meetings in 19SS, he writes,
“ But even though the Kranos conference ended, the Kranos spirit has
not ended. It is rcallv alive even now and will probablv continue to
live hereafter, too.”6 It would he wrong to think that the words “ it is
rcallv alive even now” are metaphorical. The “ spirit” here is Kxis-
tcncc as absolute subject. Once it has been set in motion, no human
being can stop it. In that regard, Corbin’s “ time” and l/.utsu’s “ spirit”
are identical. In their thinking as well, and not onlv about Kranos,
Izutsu and Corbin were in deep accord. In 1967, when Izutsu was first
invited to Kranos, Corbin had already moved bevond the confines of
Islamic mysticism and was attracting attention outside his special field
as a leading figure in the world of philosophy of religion. The person
who invited Izutsu to Kranos was his colleague at M cC ill, 1 lermann
Landolt, one of Corbin’s best students. Considering that Corbin was a
kev figure in Kranos at the time, it woidd be no exaggeration to sav that
the invitation was from Corbin himself. Although several monographs
of lzutsu’s had been published in Knglish — language and Magic , his
semantic interpretation of the Koran, his work on SabzawarT and the
study of Ibn 'Arab! in the first half of Sufism and Taoism —since, with
the exception of the work on SabzawaiT, the publisher had been Keio
University, conditions were not conducive for these books to he widely
read. But because it was Corbin, I believe, he was able to appreciate
Ixutsu’s abilities.
As w e saw in Chapter Two, Izutsu had said that Corbin was “ infe­
rior” to Massignon," but these words should not he taken at face value.
Izutsu was not denigrating Corbin. 11 is remark, “1 have a high regard
for the achievements of my late, lamented friend Corbin,” must also he
taken literally Izutsu is merely underscoring the fact that, compared
to its assessment of Corbin, the world still did not appreciate the great­
ness and significance of Louis Massignon. It goes without saving that
Corbin was a leading tw'cntieth-ccntury scholar of Islamic mysticism,
especially' noted for his research 011 lbn ‘Arab!. In fact, anyone who
seriously« intends to study. Islamic mysticism
« today,
^ whatever their views
ma\' he, cannot ignore Corbin.
One day Massignon handed Corbin an old book published in Per­
sia, a lithographed copy of Suhrawardf’s Hikmat al-Ishrciq (Philosophy
of Illumination). C o r b in ’s annotated edition of this work would win
him international acclaim. As Corbin notes, a teacher giving a student
a hook to work on signifies the passing on of an intellectual tradition.
Out of his reading of this Islamic thcosophist classic arose the term
“ imaginal,” the most important key concept for an understanding of
Corbin’s philosophy. Corbin “ established the distinctive adjective ima­
ginal as a technical term by translating [Suhrawardf’s original expres­
sion] into Latin as nmndus imaginalis and then making imaginalis into
the French word im a g in a l. It may seem as though Izutsu is disinter­
estedly stating a fact here, but his words should be taken as a compli­
ment. He is not saying that Corbin’s thought is derivative. Izutsu never
loses sight of the fact that, before referring to the topic he is discussing,
Corbin begins by questioning the language being used to discuss it.
The reason Corbin took the trouble to go
Z>
all the wav* back to the Latin
word imaginalis and use his own term “ imaginal” is because the mod-
ern word “ imaginairc” or “ imaginary” is far removed from the “ imagi-
nal” realm.

In order to artificially allow philosophers, whose histories and tradi­

tions are completely different, to be able to meet and talk together
and understand one another, a common philosophical language has
to he established. Once the ideas of philosophers from various coun­
tries have been grasped analytically in their spiritual depth, there has
to be an intellectual manipulation that will allow them to speak a
common language to each other. 'The creation of this sort of com­
mon philosophical language is what I call philosophical semantics,
and it is a task 1 hope to accomplish myself.9

A “ common philosophical language” that will span history and connect

different traditions is what Izutsu calls a “ metalanguage.” Isn’t the birth
of such a language philosophers’ deepest desire? If the words that are
capable of bringing it into being do not exist todav, philosophers must
find them by going back in time or bv crossing over into a different
dimension. “ Imaginal” is nothing less than a w'ord that exists in that
other realm; it refers to the intermediary dimension midway between
the nomnenal world and the human world that lets ns know that the
two worlds arc in an unceasing relationship with each another. This is
the dimension in which wc interact with spirits and the dead.
Introductory works on Corhin sometimes state that he was the first
to introduce I Icidcggcr to France. But this only tells us of his acuity in
grasping the Zeitgeist; it says nothing about what was central to him. If
mention is made of his accomplishments as a translator, it should he
said that he was the first to translate not only I Icidcggcr hut also Karl
Barth into French. Before his encounter with Islamic mystical philos­
ophy, Corhin had been a promising scholar in the Protestant tradition.
As Tom Chcctham , the foremost authority on Corhin, has pointed
out, Corbin was fascinated by the spirituality of German Protestants
such as Jakob Bolmic, Friedrich Schlcicrmacher, Martin Luther and
Johann Georg Hamann.10 Indeed, his earlier deep contacts with the
tradition of mystical thought that flowed through Europe strengthened
his appreciation of Islamic mystical philosophy; this seems to he an
extremely important clue to understanding Corhin. Maying percciycd
existentially the confusion in existing religions and philosophy, Corhin
turned to Islam.
That Massignon and Corhin were both Christians and became
giants in Islamic studies is clearly emblematic of the current state of
spirituality. Today, as the world becomes smaller and smaller, not just
in terms of geograph)' and the ayailabilitv of information hut spiritually
as well, it is difficult for any religion to assert its own orthodoxy and lay
claim to supremacy. Religions headed by human beings arc imperfect.
They cannot fill in all the gaps by themselves. In order for Christian­
ity to he truly Christian, it is not enough just to be Christian. Didn’t
Christ come for the sake of nonbelicycrs? T h e same can he said of
Islam and Buddhism. Izutsu wrote of Eliade that w hat made him irre-
placcably unique was not that he dealt with the crises of the times, but
that he was ‘'someone who lived those crises existentially.” " The same
words apply to Corhin. For that very reason, “ although he dealt with
esoteric theosophy, he gradually began to speak as an esoteric thcoso-
phist.” Mikio Kamiya’s essay on I lenrv Corbin’s I/Imagination creatrice
(1958; Creative Imagination , 1969), which includes this sentence, is not
only a study of Corbin; it also discusses the intellectual similarities and
differences betw een him and lzutsu.12
In the cssav cited earlier, Corbin substitutes “ gnostic minds” for
“ time.” “ It is not the ‘main currents’ that evoke them [i.c. gnostic
minds] and bring them together; it is they that decree the existence of
a particular current and bring about their owru meeting.” 1" The subject
in Corbin’s discussion of Eranos is utterly non-human; it is a persona.
Corbin perceives a single will at Eranos. It is not that people gather at
a place called Eranos, and gnostie minds spring forth. A reality that
deserves to be called “ gnostie minds” divinely calls them and produces
an intellectual surge. As was the ease w'ith “ time,” Corbin believes that
“ gnostie minds” cause a place called Eranos to manifest itself fully and
completely. “As Henry Corbin hears witness. Gnosticism in the broad­
est sense was th e underlying tone of the Eranos movement,” lzutsu
w'rites.'4 T h e “ gnosis” referred to here does not, of course, signify the
Christian heresv, nor does it designate a historical eurrent of thought. It
denotes a direct link between human beings and transcendental Real­
ity. Bv “ direct,” I mean one that is not necessarily mediated bv a partic­
ular group; in other words, the path that leads to the Transcendent is
not limited to religion. Eranos docs not reject existing religions or reli­
gious institutions, but it also does not regard them as an indispensable
gateway. C o rb in ’s statement, “ all conferences are arranged about the
same center,” suggests the workings of the Eranos spirit, which blends
and transcends religious or ideological differences.

[T]he dozen-odd yearly conference speakers, each proceeding from

his own field, arc all basically intent upon helping to uncover the
essential features of man’s quest to know himself: that is, they strive to
verify what is permanent and eternal in human experience. All con­
ferences arc arranged about the same center: man’s image of himself
as revealed in the universe proper to him.1"

As Corbin implies, the participants at Eranos were intensely aware

that what they w'ere attempting exists in a tw'o-lavered time. Adolf
Portmann and Rudolf Ritsema, who were central to Eranos, adopt a
similar viewpoint when they write, “ Since . . 1933 we have sought
to portray the primal experience native to the geocentric cosmos as a
repository of permanent values, not merely as an interesting object of
historical regard.” '6 I’lley, too, aspired to have something manifest itself
through their activities. The spirit of Kranos is nothing less than the
act of searching for the Absolute, a quest that unfolds on two axes, the
historical and the eternal. The participants dedicate their intellects to
bring about the manifestation of “ time.”

That Kranos did not confine itself to the conventional sphere

of metaphysics is clear from a glance at the special Fields of its par­
ticipants. To be sure, clergymen as well as scholars of religion or
mythology, psychologists and philosophers gathered there, but so did
specialists in phvsics, biology, mathematics, aesthetics, music and liter­
ature. They were “a series of scholars or thinkers who had strong inter­
est in the depth of inner and outer realities in their respective areas” ;1-
thev were also not of their time. That docs not mean that thev resisted
the age in which they were living or somehow fought against it, but
rather that they aspired to a different dimension than the flow' of time,
i.e. to eternity. In other words, they had to be people whom lzutsu
would elsewhere call “ a-tcmporal” rather than timeless.
Just as Mircea Kliadc used “ historian of religion” instead of “ I”
when referring to himself, as though speaking as the representative of
his academic discipline, the participants at Kranos regarded each other
as the symbolic presence of his/her respective field. In addition to Jung,
Otto and Corbin, gathering there were Karl Kerenyi, who represented
mythology; Mircea Kliadc, history of religion; James Hillman, psycho­
analysis; Jean Brim, philosophy; Gershom Scholcm, Jewish mysticism;
Portmann, biolog}’; Shmucl Samburskv, nuclear physics. Blake spe­
cialist Kathleen Rainc and Protestant theologian Paul 'Tillich also took
part. Martin D ’Arev and Jean Danielou were both Catholic clergymen
as well as leading twentieth-century theologians. 'Today the Catholic
Church cannot necessarily be said to have a positive opinion of Kranos;
some Catholics even consider it heretical. But D ’Arcy was a central
figure in the Society of Jesus, and Danielou later became a cardinal,
a position second only to that of the pope. As their presence at Kranos
symbolizes, it is not always possible to keep the discussion within the
existing framework even for cvonts in religious eircles. And if we widen
the perspective to the world, research on Eranos has only just begun.

T h e first lecture Izutsu gave at Eranos in 1967 was “T h e Abso­

lute and the Perfect Man in Taoism.” 18 “T h e Perfeet M an ,” a central
theme in I bn ‘Arabls philosophy, is, as we have seen earlier, the ulti­
mate human state. But Izutsu does not refer to Ibn ‘Arab! at all in
this lecture. In so doing, he proves that the existence of “ the Perfeet
M a n ” is not a phenomenon restricted to Islam. This attitude faithfully
attests to Izutsu’s understanding of the Orient, but, as an experiment,
it was extremely ambitious, and perhaps even intellectually provoca­
tive. Corbin must have had difficulty’ controlling his astonishment that
Izutsu would develop his argument by making free use of a technical
term from Islamic mysticism without ever referring to Islam.
More than ten vears earlier, Daisetz Suzuki had been invited twiec
(1953 and 1954) as an official lecturer to talk about Zen. Daisetz had
been warmly welcomed, and those who attended sensed something but
without gaining anv firm understanding. The organizers of Eranos asked
Izutsu, as a Japanese, to speak on Zen. Perhaps for that reason, many of
his twelve lectures are on that subject. In a blurb to Suzuki s collected
works, Izutsu praised Daisetz and called him “ a first-elass cosmopoli­
tan,” 19 but if one were only to read Izutsu’s selected works published bv
Chu o Koronsha, it would be almost impossible to know’ that he had anv
acquaintance w'ith Daisetz Suzuki at all. The one exception in which
Daisetz’s name appears is “ Zenteki ishiki no flrudo kozo” (The field
structure of Zen consciousness), the Japanese version of his 1969 lec­
ture, “The Structure of Selfhood in Zen Buddhism.” Izutsu’s presenta­
tions at Eranos were all given in English, and these lectures have now-
been published, but Izutsu later rewTote several of them in Japanese.20
From the mildly stated language in this essav, one senses that it is
not Izutsu’s intention to follow in Daisetz’s footsteps but to attempt to
offer a different perspective. T he relation between Izutsu and Daisetz
Suzuki, I believe, should be perceived as following a line of descent
that deserves to be called a spiritual rather than an intellectual historv.
Iu the history of spirituality, even activities that have left behind no
outward traee of a philosophv or ideologv mav become the objects ol
study. Although Daisctz insisted that spirituality (fl'PI: reisei) and spirit
(faM seishin) are different,21 haven’t attempts to discuss spirituality thus
far been repeatedly made from a psychological perspective? Seishin —
mind, psvclic — is a human matter, but the subject of rei — Spirit — is
not human; it is nothing other than the Transcendent. Studies of spiri­
tuality have flourished latch', attracting not only scholars of religion but
also literary figures. But just as it is futile to develop a theory of human
nature without an understanding of what a human being is, even if
someone were to develop a theory of spirituality, it is inconceivable
it would hear any fruit without an understanding of Spirit. To show'
that Iziitsu and Daisctz agree on a higher level, one must look at their
attitude toward scholarship, their inner mission, and how they put that
into practice.
Faced w'ith the confused state of the w'orld, Daisctz Suzuki bus­
ied himself w'ith his studies of Buddhism, all the w hile saying that he
had no time. He wras eightv-cight w'hcn he began his translation into
English of the Kvogydshinshd by Shinran (1173-1263), the founder of
Jodo Shinshu, the True Pure Land school of Buddhism, and he was
w'orking on it right up until the end of his life.22 One dav, as Daisctz
was about to set off for Karuizaw'a, he suddenly fell ill and died two
days later at the age of ninety-six. The manuscript of this work is said to
have been in his luggage, already packed. The same mentality flowed
in Toshihiko Izutsu. As w'as repeatedly discussed in Shinpi tetsugaku,
philosophy for Izutsu wras not simply an intellectual activity. It w'as
nothing less than a via practice1 to change the w'orld.
In the last vear of his life, the ninetv-fivc year old Daisctz Suzuki
wTotc a stud\’ in English on the suibokaga (monochrome ink paintings)
of the Zen monk Sengai (1750-1837).23 He believed that the person
w'ho w'ould understand the truth about this Zen monk would appear in
the West, not in the East. As Daisctz sensed, the West was first to appre­
ciate the significance of Scngai’s suibokuga, and, w'ith the exception of
Sazo Idemitsu (1885-1981), w'ho had a close friendship w'ith Daisctz —
the Idemitsu Museum of Arts is knowai for its Sengai collection — it has
been only recently that the Japanese have rediscovered him.
Eva van Hoboken, w'ho edited Daisetz’s hook on Sengai, also
appears in Izutsu’s essay “Tozai bunka no koryii” (East-West cultural
exchange)/4 Me refers to her as Mrs H., but from the context, which
contains a rcfercnee4 o Sengai, it is unmistakably she. One day Izutsu
\ isited her home in Aseona, where Eranos was held. In her garden there
were some red flowers in full bloom. She had taken the seeds for these
flowers from ones blooming in the garden of the house where Daisetz
Suzuki lived inside the temple precinct of Engakuji in Kamakura. They
are not a flower that is native to Aseona, she said, but now, as vou see,
they grow everywhere throughout the town. She had gone to Japan to
ask Daisetz to teach her, and for several months she would visit him
every dav without fail. “When I go back to Japan in the summer, several
months from now,” Izutsu w rote, “ I think I will plant some in the garden
of my home [in Kamakura].” 25 Spiritual inheritance does not ahvavs
manifest itself in theories or doctrines. Izutsu s grave is in Engakuji,
where Daisetz Suzuki once lived.

On 18 August 1954, Henry C o rb in , M ireea E liad e and Olga

Eroebe-Kaptevn were sitting with Daisetz Suzuki. T h e three were
astonished to hear that, more than fifty years earlier, the elderly man
from the Orient had translated w'orks of Swedenborg.26 Corbin asked
Daisetz about homologies in the structure of Mahavana Buddhism and
Swedenborgs theology'. T he eighty-four-year-old Daisetz, w’ho already'
had the dignified appearance of a venerable old man, suddenly' grabbed
a spoon and, brandishing it, said w'ith a smile, “This spoon now exists
in Paradise. . . . We are now in Heaven.” It wras an unforgettable event.
Corbin w’rites in his magnum opus that Ibn ‘Arab! w'ould undoubtedly'
have been delighted to hear these w’ords.2" Ibn ‘Arab! for him w'as an
exceptional being, synonymous with w isdom itself. It would be right to
consider this to be his highest praise.
The phenomenal w'orld is linked directly and inextricably with the
noumenal w'orld. T h e Swedenborgian concept of correspondences,
the relationship among the natural, spiritual and divine worlds, is alive
in Daisetz’s words. Corbin, too, continued to have a profound interest
in Swedenborg. There is even a w'ork of his entitled Swedenborg and
Esoteric Islam.^ Swedenborg was someone who not onlv saw’ Heaven
w’ith his own eyes; he claimed to have visited there often while still
living in the human w'orld. Although this assertion startled the world.
the depth cincl diversity of his thinking that became dear only after his
death, would become the object of even greater astonishment. Swe­
denborg's influence on Kant and Balzac is well known, hut Baudelaire,
Valery and Dostoevsky were also influenced bv him. Recently, follow­
ing a revaluation of the late ninctccnth-ccnturv Christian prosclytizer,
Osui Arai (1846-1922), advances are being made in the studv of Swe­
denborg’s reception in Mciji Japan.2i; As Daisctz said to Corbin, Swe­
denborg is “your Buddha of the North.” '0
Discussion ot Swedenborg’s influence on Daisctz seems to have
been obstructed bv his close followers for a while alter his death. But,
as Shokin Furuta, one of Daisctz s best students, has pointed out, not
only did that influence continue to live on in him for a long time, it
formed the very core of his thought. Corbin’s testimonv also supports
this. The story about the spoon seems to have made a strong impres­
sion on him. Corbin even spoke about it to Izutsu, who alludes to this
incident in his blurb for Daisetz’s collected works.'1

Otto and ISliadc

Olga Froebe-Kaptevn was born in London in 1881; her parents w’crc

Dutch, her father an engineer, her mother an early feminist. It is she
who can rightfully be called the “ mother of Eranos.” A few years after
her marriage, she lost her husband, a musician, in a plane crash. Orien­
tal thought and depth psychology gradually came to occupy her mind,
and she would devote the latter half of her life to the studv of these
fields. “ It was her intuition that still unseen and unformulated spiri­
tual currents needed open space to unfold and manifest themselves.
She wanted to provide for these as yet unknown forces,” writes Rudolf
Ritscma, wTo later became her assistant at Eranos.’2 The impulse wras
very strong; vet she remained silent about it for mam’ years in order to
verify the genuineness of the event. Gradually she conceived a plan for
a meeting place between East and West.
Encounters watli Sinologist Richard Wilhelm, Carl Gustav Jung
and Rudolf Otto proved decisive. Had she not met them, despite
these strong feelings, she might have spent her life as an independent
scholar. The spirit of Jung, it goes walkout saying, is deeply rooted in
Eranos. But, as Izutsu notes, more attention deserves to be given to
Otto, who was an indispensable presence. Eranos began in 1933; Otto,
who died in 1937 and w'as already plagued with ill health, did not take
part as an official leetnrer. Perhaps for that reason, little has been w'rit-
ten about Otto and Eranos, but Otto’s influence there would continue
to live on unbroken. Eranos “ means a speeifie kind o f ‘dining together’
in classical Greek,” Izutsu w'rites. “ It is a noble and elegant gathering,
loved by the Greeks, in whieh some participants share food mutually,
brought respectively aeeording to their own tastes, and enjoy talking,
dining at the same table.”33 Otto w'as the one who gave Eranos its name.
Das Heilige (1917; The Idea of the Holy, 1923) has beeome a elassic
in the phenomenology of religion, and any diseussion of Otto is virtually
inseparable from this w'ork. It is unquestionably his magnum opus, and
yet by limiting him to this one hook, w'e run the risk of losing sight of
his true nature. We ought not to overlook his West-ostliche Mystik (1926;
Mysticism East and West, 1932), in which he deals synehronieally w ith
Sankara, the eighth-eenturv exponent of Indian Vedanta philosophy,
and the mystie Meister Eekhardt, who represents medieval Christianity'.
Otto, whose scholarly starting point had been a studv of Martin Luther’s
eoneept of the EIolv Spirit, also plaved an aetive part in the reevaluation
of Sehlciermaeher’s Uherdie Religion (1799; On Religion, 1893). In 1911,
he set off on a journey of nearly ten months to India, Burma (Myanmar),
Japan and China. It w'as at this time that he encountered the vedantic
tradition. Thereafter, he eeased to be merely a Protestant theologian.
His contributions to the w w ld of vedantie thought are extensive and
w'ould continue well into the last years of his life.
Das Heilige, whieh delved deep into Jew'ish and Christian phe­
nomenology, w'as published in 1917, after Otto had beeome acquainted
with the Orient. His views of the Orient are vibrantly alive in this hook;
they quietly pervade the entire w'ork. His eoneept of das Numinose (the
numinous, i.e. the eireumstanees surrounding the self-manifestation
of the Transcendent that evoke fear and trembling) caused a stir in
European soeiety. It is no aecident that the ones w'ho understood the
true meaning earefullv eoneealed in The Idea of the Holy would be
students of the Orient. I am thinking here of Mireea Eliade and Toshi-
hiko Izutsu. Eliad e’s major work, Das Heilige and das Profane (1937;
The Sacred and the Profane, 1959), begins with a reassessment of his
precleeessor Otto. Kliade was the foremost historian of religion in the
twentieth century, but, before that, he bad been a student of the Orient
who was cxistcntiallv concerned with India, and with yoga in particu­
lar. Izutsu first mentioned Otto in Shinpi tetsugaku, and it is suggestive
that the work he referred to at that time was Mysticism
/ luist and West.
In his understanding of mysticism in a higher sense — a synchronic
awareness of scholarship, salvation and the world of Being— Izutsu w'as
profoundly influenced by Otto. In Otto’s works he detected the same
kind of wonder and astonishment as he had received from Louis Mas-
simoon. Otto “ makes a distinction between Seelen-mvstik |mvsticism of
the soul], w'hieh seeks God in the depths of the soul, and Gottes-mystik
[mysticism of God], which searches for God as the absolutclv Tran­
scendent in the limitless beyond,” but “ the imvard w'av and the outward
way,” w'hieh appear antithetical, are both essentially the same; one is
not superior or inferior to the other."4 Which path one ehooscs depends
on the personality of the individual mvstic. “ In the end,” Izutsu asserts,
“ they will alwavs arrive at the same place no matter w'hieh route they
take.” "5 Izutsu understands that the tw'o mvstieisms are not conclusions
arrived at through philological analvsis. Mvsticism for Otto is not a
method for understanding the world’s mvsteries; it is the path that leads
to the very Souree of religion itself. Yoshitsugu Sawai points out that,
though Otto w'as a Christian, he lived his scholarship, regarding it as
an activity that w'ould break through to a dimension that transcended
religious denominations."6 When Massignon discovered the forgotten
mystie Hallaj, not only did he become fascinated by Islam, it revived
his ow'n belief in Catholicism. It wras an event akin to a “ conversion.”
A deepening of faith is sometimes brought about bv a paradox of this
kind. Something similar also happened to Otto. That salvation was
ahvays an issue behind his study of religions is probably proof of this.
Otto never lost sight of the fact that the ideas of Sankara and Ramanuja
are direetly connected to their theories of salvation. For the ancient
w;ise men of India, the question of salvation w'as ahvays foremost; sehol-
arlv speculation eame second. Otto inherits this spirit, Saw'ai says.
Otto “ pointed out the parallelism in the thought structure of Fa
T ’sang [the seventh-century patriarch of the Hua Yen school | and Ibn
al-‘Arabl\” Izutsu writes.’7 It is precisely the seareh for this “ parallel­
ism in thought structure” that is one of the fundamentals of Izutsu’s
own seholarlv methodology, one that he learned from Otto. Although
Sankara was probably born in 788 and died ea. 820 and Kckhardt was
born around 1260 and died in 1328, Otto calls the two “ contemporar­
ies.” ^ 1 1c recognizes that true “ contemporaries” are not those who live
diachronically in the same era; even those from different times and
different cultures mav be “ contemporaries” svnchronieallv. Otto uses
the term “ parallel” to describe this synehronieity. Parallelism is a key
coneept for understanding Otto after his travels in Asia, Sawai notes.’9
Temporal and cultural differences inevitably give rise to differences in
religion and spirituality. But quite apart from these differences, there
is a common religious feeling — the numinous experience that Otto
would later develop — that exists parallel to them. This hard-to-dcfinc
ur-experienee that runs through all religions, he savs, arises parallel to
them as if drawing a perpendicular line to their source.

The suggestion of an imaginal image, which, prompted by the spo­

ken WORD, rises up out of the linguistic c7/cm/-consciousness,
envelopes the M-region of consciousness like incense densely fill­
ing a secret chamber with smoke. This image space of the depth
consciousness that sometimes shimmers with blessing, at others is
shrouded in dread, at vet others is overpowering. In it lies something
that Rudolf Otto once called das Numinose (something spiritual that
transcends the grasp of reason and that reason, therefore, regards as
quite sinister) and considered it a category of religious studies.4'

Although in this passage Izutsu is alluding to the faet that W O R D is

intrinsically numinous, at the same time, it is also an expression of his
high regard for Otto, who eaused the W O R D “ numinous” to appear.
T he world is explicated through W O R D s; what other primary objeet
of thought could there be? As a result of Otto’s ideas, Izutsu is saving,
human beings from this time forth will perceive something numinous,
and das Numinose will evolve and beeome part of a metalanguage.
It seems to have happened at Eranos. Ernst Benz told Izutsu that
around the time that Plotinus was in Alexandria, a group of Buddhists
was actively engaged in proselyti/ing there. If Benz’s tlicorv is true,
Izntsn writes, then the intensely curious Plotinus would snrelv have
made the Buddhists' acquaintance.**1 Benz's ties to Japan were strong;
he once spent a year here, lie was a professor in the theological fac­
ulty at Marhnrg IJniycrsitv, \yhcrc, until his retirement in 1929, Otto
had held the same chair. Benz regarded Otto and Krncsto Buonaiuti as
his mentors. Buonaiuti, too, had been a participant at Kranos from its
yery first session. As though following in his teachers’ footsteps, Benz
first took part in Kranos in 1953, the same year that Daisctz Suzuki was
also invited to lecture there. Benz would later deepen his friendship
with Daisctz. The last lecture Benz gave there was in 1978, a time
when Toshihiko Izntsn was a central figure in Kranos. Izutsu also read
Buonaiuti; his library contains a copy of Buonaiuti’s work on medieval
mysticism (// misticismo meclioevale) published in 192S.
Buonaiuti, the sincere heretic, was the embodiment of the early
days of Kranos, the period before Toshihiko Izutsu attended, in other
words, the period when the spirit of Otto was vibrantly alive. An out­
standing scholar of religion, Buonaiuti had also been a Catholic priest,
who was excommunicated in 1925 because he refused to retract publi­
cations of his that had been placed on the Church’s Index of Prohibited
Books. If the Church truly is the body of Christ incarnate in this world,
it should not just rigidly stress the importance of dogma; it must change
and adapt to current realities and invite evervonc in. The Church, in
the true sense, is eternal and unchanging — perennial — but, Buonaiuti
asserted, it must not mistake what is universal for w hat can be changed.
He called himself a “ modernist” ; for the Church at that time, those
w'ords meant he was dangerous. It was at this point, however, that his
real activity began. One daw a young man sent him an impassioned let­
ter. The name of the sender wras Mireea Kliade. Kliadc, who, as Toshi­
hiko Izutsu savs, was compelled to live the crises of his time existentially,
sent Buonaiuti a letter in wTich he poured out the confused and critical
state of his inmost heart. Buonaiuti, the classic example of a spirit who
wras not of his time in an Kranos-like sense, wms also a secret hero for
Kliadc, w'ho frequently mentions him in his journals.
Prophets do not officially exist in Christianity, but prophetic indi­
viduals may appear. “ Prophets,” like Buonaiuti, are those whom the
Church repudiates because they have publicly proclaimed the true
nature of the age they liv e in. As time passes, however, they arc shown
to have spoken nothing other than the truth. Joachim of Fiore in the
twelfth eenturv was one such person. It is no accident that Buonaiuti
plaved a pioneering role in Joachim studies.42 Buonaiuti not onlv stud­
ied Joachim; he inherited and put into practice Joachim ’s spirituality.
The study of Joachim has advanced since Buonaiuti. Marjorie Reeves’
The Influence of Prophecy in the Later Middle Ages: A Study in Joachi-
misin (1969) laid the groundwork, and Bernard M a e G i n n ’s The C a l­
abrian Abbot: Joachim of Fiore in the Histor) 1 of Western 'Thought (1985)
has added new discoveries as well as a historical exegesis.4’ Fliadc con­
tributed a Foreword to M a e G in n ’s book; the two men were colleagues
at the University of Chicago. When Eliade met Buonaiuti in 1927, the
latter reported that his work on Joachim was progressing.
Joachim of Fiore, so-called because in the twelfth century he served
as abbot of an abbey at Fiore in Calabria, Italy, was a gifted cleric, active
in both religion and polities until 1183, but in that year he became a
prophet. T h e time had passed when the existing C h u rch was abso­
lute, Joachim said; the age of Ecclesia spiritualis —a new “ Church of
the Spirit’’ independent of Church hierarchy—was now at hand. This
Church would be led, Joachim said, not bv priests, but by spiritual per­
sons who have received the grace of the Holv Spirit, with no distinction
between cleric and lay. Joachim was not stating a theological opinion;
he had received a revelation and was speaking it as words of prophecy.
Joachim, who prophesied the coming of a third status, i.c. the age of
the Holv Spirit, would ultimately be shown the error of his ways and
shunned by the Church. But Joachim ’s ideas lived on after his death.
Whenever the Church has conic under pressure to reform, Joaehimism
has been revived in various forms. Ernst Bloch in Das Prinzip Hoffnung
(1954; The Principle of Hope , 1986) cited Marx as a Joachim-like person.
rkhc revival of Joachim’s ideas has already spread beyond the framework
of the Church.
The excommunicated Buonaiuti reviving Joachim, who had been
regarded as a heretic, and E lia d e ’s receptivity to this, are phen om ­
ena that arc truly indicative of the present situation confronting the
Church. To borrow Derrida’s words, the Church is at a point where it
must he “ deconstructed” in order to he able to he reborn. In the age
of Joaehim, the Church meant Christianity, hut the Church in this
sense no longer means just the Roman Catholic Clmreh; it is emblem­
atic of religion itself. T he person who emerged to inherit and carry
on his mentor’s research was If rust Benz, who wrote Kcclesia spiritu-
alis: Kirchenidee und Gescliichtstheologie der franziskanischen Refor­
mation (1934; The Clmreh of the Spirit: The idea of the clmreh and
the history and theology of the Franciscan Reform). Benz also dealt
with Jakob Bolune and Sehelling and wrote a lengthy study of Sweden­
borg; in the history of Christianity’ that he enyisioned, lie e\ en attached
unique significance to Rudolf Steiner, whose “ esoteric Christianity”
goes beyond Christian mysticism and w ho is regarded as a heretic by
the new Clmreh and the old one alike.
It wras against this spiritual landscape that If ran os appeared.
Though the phenomenal w’orld at the time was rclatiycly tranquil, the
spiritual \yorld \yas in turmoil. Fissures were beginning to emerge in
its foundations. Just as the participants wrcre circumspect in their use
of the word “ God,” they did not speak easily about salyation. But there
was a strong sense among them that their efforts w'ere directly linked to
salyifie eyents. They gathered each year in Ascona with an awareness of
haying been called, Corbin wrote.

When Eliade died, Toshihiko Izutsu, recalling a friendship that had

been deepened through scholarship, wrote a tribute to him in w hich he
left a \ i\ id and indelible image of a profound scholar.44 Although the tw’o
men actual]}’ met only twice, the traces those encounters left are so dee])
as to make that fact seem unlikely. The first time they met the}' talked as
though they had known each other for ten years, Izutsu said. The infre­
quency of their actual contact may not ha\ e been particularly important.
During the fifteen-year internal before they met again, they read each
other’s w'orks and w'ere influenced by them. Fliadc’s name appears in
lshiki to homhitsu. The completion of 77/e History' of Religious Ideas, it
w'ould be fair to say, w'as Fliade’s fondest w'ish 45 In it Fliade cited Sufism
and 'Taoism as one of the most important w'orks on Islamic mysticism.
The 1967 Franos Conference w'as the first one in w'hieh Izutsu
participated, but it w'ould be Fliadc’s last. The twro met again in 1982,
when Kliadc was invited not as a lecturer but as a distinguished guest.
By a strange coincidence, this would be Izutsu’s last time at Eranos.
"Fhe two were also close in inheriting the tradition of Rudolf Otto. One
of Eliade’s most important works, The Sacred and the Profane, was the
declaration of a revival of the true spirit of Otto. A Jungian tradition cer-
tainlvj exists at Eranos, but Izutsu does not seem to have been dircetlv*
associated with it. Eranos, of course, was not a factional gathering nor
were there struggles for hegemonv. But if we are considering intellec­
tual pedigrees, Izutsu, I believe, was part of the group to which Otto,
Massignon, Buonaiuti, Benz and Eliade belonged.
Eliadc’s travels in India during his earlv vcars determined the rest
of his life. There for the first time he experienced living philosophies
and religions and the raw power of the “ sacred.” O f these, the encoun­
ter with “ the classical yoga philosophv of Patanjali” was decisive, Izutsu
writes.46 Although Patanjali is famous as the expounder of the Yoga
Sutras, nothing about him is known for sure, including his floruit. Just
as Zen achieves its ultimate end in the enlightened state of inner tran­
scendence knowm as satori, voga is a similar kind of ascetic practice.
But even if someone were to reach the height of metaphvsical aware­
ness, Eliade writes, Patanjali did not believe that that alone could free
human beings. Although that was most likely Patanjali’s belief, it was
probablv Eliade’s as well.
Practicing voga, Eliade said in his memoirs, was indispensable for
a true understanding of Indian w isdom. His teacher in India did not
allow him to do so easilv. In order to read the writings of Patanjali as
wrell as other works of classical philosophv, Eliade first immersed him­
self in the study of Sanskrit. His dedication to language learning at this
time, it w'ould be fair to sav, wras an ascetic practice on a par with yoga.
His days were spent with no regard for social contacts or for ordinarv
life. Even his meals —simple fare —were delivered to his room once
every few davs. Words led Eliade to voga and showed him the wav.
T h e minds of Izutsu and Eliade were in profound accord regarding
the connection betw'ecn language and a fundamental metaphvsical
experience. Izutsu, too, was someone who engaged in ascetic practices.
Citing the w'ords of Eliade, “ I sought salvation in the Orient," Izutsu
goes on to saw
 Kor the x'oung Kliadc, the urgent eoneern was not, as in the ease
of Kreud and llnsserl, to ereate a new aeaclemie discipline out of
the sense of crisis he felt; it was the existential, personal conquest
of that sense of crisis itself. The personal predicament of a “crisis of
Kuropcan consciousness” was something that could onlv he over­
come personally. Before scholarship, the existential problems of the
person doing the scholarship must first he solved. With these expecta­
tions, he went to India. India did not disappoint him.-4
“ Before scholarship, the existential problems of the person doing the
scholarship must first be solved” — these words are true of Kliadc, but
they arc also likclv to be a confession of Izutsus own inmost heart.
Kliadc was a remarkable historian of religions, but he was also a
novelist, whose original works have been compiled and edited. Indeed,
after completing his philosophical studies in India, he started out not
as a scholar but as a novelist. As 1 mentioned earlier, there was a time
when Toshihiko Izutsu had been a “ literary critic” rather than a phi­
losopher. Neither man had intended to become a scholar. 'The artist
Sliiko Munakata (1903-1975), speaking about the karma that led him
to woodblock prints, said that luingci had called him; in the same wax’,
scholarship called Kliadc and Izutsu.

T h e Traditionalists and Sophia perennis

At the end of volume 1 of Toshihiko Izutsu’s selected w orks, there is a

brief cssav entitled “ Chosakuslui no kanko ni atatte” (On the publica­
tion of mv selected works). In it Izutsu skims ox er his life and speaks
about his philosophical origins and the formation of his x iexxs. Izutsu
died before the publication of his selected w’orks was complete. Thus,
this piece could well be thought of as summing up his intellectual
conclusions.

In anv exent, ideas for me from the xeiw outset haxe been assumed
to be not a perennial, organized philosophical system but rather an
existential, semantic, conceptual field, organic and fluid, with lan­
guage, natural and cultural landscape and ethnicity as its axes, in the
enx'irons of xxhieh ideas appear and crystal IizeT
T he sentence mav seem casual, but it includes several terms that are
important w hen considering Toshihiko Izutsu’s position in the world
outside Japan. “An existential, semantic, conceptual field, organic and
fluid, w'ith language, natural and cultural landscape and ethnicity as
its axes, in the environs of w hich ideas appear and crystallize” is w'hat
Izutsu calls “ culture.” For Toshihiko Izutsu “ Culture,” along with the
Orient, consciousness, essence, meaning and W O R D , is a kev term, an
important technical term. Culture is not a static social phenomenon;
it is a living, and constantly changing, organism that encompasses lan­
guage, art, religion and customs not to mention historv. There is a col­
lection of his lectures entitled Isurdmu bunko. (1981; Islamic culture).4g
Here, too, the title was carcfullv chosen.
In the passage cited above, Izutsu originally wrote /Tj& T H •
iM, the Japanese equivalent of “ eternal, immutable, unique, universal,”
which he annotated with the Fnglish w'ord “ perennial.” Associated
w’ith this latter w'ord is a group of thinkers w’ho form a major inter­
national current of thought known as the Traditionalist or Perennial
school. Foremost among them one can cite Rene G u en on , Frithjof
Schuon, Ananda Coomaraswamy, Martin Lings and Scyycd Hosscin
Nasr.50 Traditionalist expression is not necessarily limited to intellectual
formats. Schuon wras an outstanding artist and w;rotc poetry. Coomaras-
w'amy, who was an art historian rather than a philosopher, dealt w ith
perennial beauty’; his works influenced the composer John Cage.
Although Izutsu’s language in the passage cited above seems mild,
the statement should probably be read as a forthright declaration of
the differences between the Traditionalist school and his ow'u philos-
ophv. Had that not been the case, there w'ould have been no need for
him to go to the trouble of annotating characters meaning “ eternal,
immutable, unique, universal” with the word “ perennial.” He did so
because the technical term philosophici perennis, implving true philos­
ophy, is the most important key term of the Traditionalist school. Tra­
dition with a capital T does not refer to the historical transmission of
spirituality. It connotes a nonmenal or nr-religious reality' that is passed
dow'n directly from the transcendental Creator. “ Primordial” in the
sense of original or fundamental has become another important con­
cept of the Traditionalist school. Primordial is different from primitive.
It docs not simply signify going back in time. The concept, rather, is
a-tcmporal. The expression “ primordial tradition” or tradition primor-
diale is also used.
To encounter the primordial tradition is nothing less than to
directly experience the manifestation of Absolute Mind, a synchronic,
dynamic Reality that even now continues its unceasing work of cre­
ation. The Traditionalists call the path to this truly real Reality Re/igio
perennis or Sophia perennis. They believe that beyond the differences
in the phenomenal world —religious, intellectual, cultural— exists an
eternal, immutable, unique, uniyersal, i.e. perennial. Reality that is
omnipresent and not subject to any spatio-temporal limitations. I/.utsu
is not saying that a perennial Reality does not exist. But he would prob­
ably not argue for the existence of a truth that transcends cultural uni-
ycrsals. “ It is impossible for people to shed their cultural traditions as
easily as tlicv take off their clothes,” l/.utsu writes.SI As this suggests, he
believed that there arc, in fact, great dangers and intellectual pitfalls in
overlooking cultural differences.
1 alluded earlier to Asm Palacios, who claimed that the influences
of Islam and Ibn ‘Arab! arc found in the basic structure of Dante’s
Divine Comedy. The attitudes of the Traditionalist school and Izutsu
toward this phenomenon tell us something about the differences
between them. Izutsu does not deny that the influence of Sufism
spread to Italy via Spain; to the contrary, lie thought highly of the work
of Asm Palacios, who intuitively understood complexly intertwined
cultural phenomena and backed up his research w'ith subtle reason­
ing. As we know' from the foreword to the 1981 translation of a work by
R.A. Nicholson, Izutsu’s assessment of Asui Palacios did not change
throughout his lifetime. There he cited the name of Asm Palacios
along with other giants of Islamic studies such as Massiguon, German
Orientalist Theodor Noldckc, and Nicholson himself."'
Nasr is similar in his appreciation of Asm Palacios, but tbc empha­
sis in bis assessment is different. “ Dante . . . reveals many profound
similarities w ith the Sufis, not only because of a certain historical con­
tact w'ith them through tbc Order of the Temple, but primarily because
he depicts fundamentally the same spiritual experiences and a similar
version of the Universe in the context of the Christian tradition.” s" As
this statement show's, what Nasr values about Asm Palacios’s thesis is
not Asm Palacios as a scholar developing a theory of culture, but his
elucidation of the mctaphvsical dimension in which Islam and Christi-
anitv meet, i.e. the existence of Tradition.
Scluion in his later years spoke frankly about his ideas in an inter­
view.54 What he talked about there was, first and foremost, the sharp
distinction between Atma and A lava,
/ Reality, ys. Illusion. For tbe Tra-
ditionalist school, a discussion of an “ organic” phenomenon “ with lan­
guage, natural and cultural landscape and ethnicity as its axes, in the
environs of which ideas appear and crystallize” would not be regarded as
a Realistic pursuit but would refer merely to tbe Illusion that conceals it.

T h e text cited earlier, “ Chosakushu no kanko ni atatte” (On the

publication of my selected works), also serves as an epilogue to Shin pi
tetsugaku, w'hich comprises volume 1. In that wrork, Izutsu had empha­
sized that the completion of the anabasis, the w'av up in fervent pursuit
of the Ultimate, is only the midway' point in the via mystica. “A person
who thoroughly explores the w orld of Ideas and reverently enters the
secret inner chambers of transcendent life has the sacred dutv to come
back dow'n to the phenomenal world, ignite the flame of transcendent
life in its very midst and work diligently' tow'ard the idealization of the
relative w'orld,” he savs.55 In other w'ords, although achieving enlight­
enment may' occur during anabasis , nothing will come of it if it ends
there. Rather, it w'as Izutsu’s firm conviction, it would be fair to saw
that the mystic’s true mission lay' in the katabasis, in returning from the
realm of the Absolute to the phenomenal w'orld and “ idealizing” it.
Rather than affirming the existence of the other w'orld, “ the ide­
alization of the relative world” means discovering and nurturing the
seeds of eternity' within “ culture.” Izutsu docs not assume that the
noumenal world is a place where the various religions and ideologies
arc in accord with one another; he emphatically calls attention to the
importance of discerning the true nature of each as they' exist paral­
lel to one other. For Izutsu, katabasis is not a matter of understanding
the phenomenal world in a noumenal-world-like way; it is a matter of
revealing the noumenal w'orld in a phenomenal-world-likc wav That is
also w'hat “ philosophy” meant to Izutsu.
 What is common to the Traditionalist school — it appears in a par­
ticularly austere form in Guenon and Sclmon — is the rejection of phi­
losophy. Schuon made such a sharp distinction between philosophy
and metaphysics that he was even wary of using the term philosophia
perennis on the grounds that it was too suggestive of “ philosophy.” f or
the 'Traditionalists, “ philosophy” in its present sense is the antonym of
sophia. Nowadays, when metaphysics is treated as if it were a branch
of philosophy and what is central to it is human reason alone, phi­
losophers confine themselves to expressing what can he rationally
understood. In so doing, they have completely lost sight of the origi­
nal meaning of philosophy— the love (philo-) of w'isdom {sophia). It is
metaphysics, and metaphysics alone that is engaged in earning on the
Tradition. Indeed, philosophy in the modern sense obscures the Tradi­
tion, Schuon believed.
A similar contrast also occurs between ur-rcligion and religions.
Bv “ religions” is meant the existing faith-based communities such as
Judaism, Christianity, Buddhism, Islam, 1 linduism, Shinto, etc. At their
genesis, these religions are strongly colored bv the Tradition, but, the
'Traditionalist school believes, as a result of long-preserved doctrines and
ideological infighting. Wisdom is hidden so deep within religions that
it is impossible for anyone to easily get a glimpse of it. Traditionalists do
not reject religion, but, they explain, one must look bevond the various
religions in order to find what is truly religious, i.c. ur-rcligious. The
title of Schuon’s magnum opus, De I'unite tremscendante cles religions
(1948; The Transcendent Unity of Religion , 1953), a work that T.S. Eliot
praised highly, succinctly sets forth the views of the 'Traditionalist school.
Elucidating the Tradition is like repairing a broken piece of pot-
ten-. With the passage of time, the shards have been whipped up bv
the wind, washed awav bv water, carried off bv human hands and scat­
tered to the ends of the earth. Restoring it to its original shape might
even seem impossible. And vet, while it is certainly impossible to find
it intact in the “ exoteric dimension.” it surely exists in the “ esoteric
dimension,” i.c. the transcendental dimension in which the unit}' of
ur-rcligion is revealed, the place where the 'Tradition manifests itself.
What makes it materialize is what the 'Traditionalists call metaphys­
ics or ur-rcligion. 'The 'Traditionalists might fairly be described as those
who transcend the differences among philosophies and religions and
make the reality of the Tradition and Wisdom appear in time.
What I would like to consider here, however, is the Traditionalists’
use of the kev word "unit}'.” As can be seen from the title of Schu on ’s
magnum opus, it is not a superficial consensus of "religions” the}' arc
seeking; it is the unit}- of “ Religion.” The Traditionalists arc neither svn-
cretists nor what is commonly called religious pluralists; the}' arc pure
monists. We saw' earlier lbn ‘Arabf’s view' of the “ unit}' of existence,” the
view that regards "beings” as self-extensions and self-manifestations of
"Being.” T h e theory of unitv in the Traditionalist school is extremely
close to that of lbn ‘Arab!. Both Toshihiko Izutsu and the Traditionalists
arc in agreement in recognizing the unit}' of Being, but the}' differ as
to where that unit}' is found. Izutsu does not den}' the esoteric dimen­
sion. fie recognizes, too, that it is the place w'hcrc unity holds sway. But
unity is not confined only to the noumcnal w'orld; it can manifest itself
in the phenomenal world as well, he believes.
Guenon and Schuon both had close tics with Sufism, the spiritual
base from w'hich lbn ‘Arab! arose. The two men w'erc both intellectuals
and practitioners of religious austerities. Guenon wras born in France
in 1886; Schuon in Switzerland in 1907. Both had once been devout
Catholics, but thev believed that the Catholic Church, as a religion,
was no longer carrying on the Tradition, and each, independently of
the other, w'ent his own way until ultimately they came to the world of
Islam and became sufTs. Guenon w'as a solitary thinker. Remote not just
in a metaphorical sense, he lived alone in Cairo and spent his davs med­
itating and writing. T he Traditionalist school was born in 1936, when,
after a lengthy correspondence, Schuon came to visit G uenon. T he
two w'ould meet again only once, the following year. T he Traditionalists
begin with Rene Guenon. Temporally, it was a twentieth-ccnturv event
and could even be called a "new ” school of thought. Although decid­
edly influenced bv G uenon , Schuon w'as no mere epigone. In 1948,
the two clashed over the Christian sacraments. Not just a difference
of opinion, it was an incident that might even be called an intellectual
falling-out. But the feud w'as notably plaved out among the two m en’s
followers rather than hetw'ecn the principals themselves, who never
stopped corresponding with one another. In the pursuit of the Tradition,
a divergence of views wras probably a secondary matter. After G u enon ’s
death, Selmon left an impartial appraisal of him A’
Nasr represents the generation that came after Selmon. If Guenon’s
solitary pursuit of the Tradition had been broadened and deepened bv
Selmon, its position in intellectual circles was seemed bv Nasr. The
world first became aware of Nasr in 1964 with the publication o f 7 '//ree
Muslim Sages, based on lectures given at Harvard University. I le was
thirty-one at the time. Bv mentioning the name of Coomaraswamv and
citing Selmon in the bibliography of this work, Nasr did not conceal
his affiliation with the Traditionalist school. This was during Vatican II.
At a time when even the term “ interfaith dialogue” did not exist, to be
a Traditionalist was to be the target of prejudice and discrimination and
conferred virtually no academic advantages. Not only was Traditional­
ist thought not recognized as a legitimate subject of scholarship; it was,
with a few exceptions, shunned in religious circles. In fact, according
to Nasr, in the mid 1960s, Corbin was expelled from the Academic for
referring to Selmon in a paper.” It would be roughly a decade later,
in 1974, that Kliadc discussed Guenon.sS d ims, it has not been all that
long ago since the world was freed from the biased view that the "Tradi­
tional ists were heretical thinkers, and gradually began to recognize that
they constituted a group that deserves to plav its part in thought and
scholarship.
As can be seen from the passage cited earlier, while Izutsu makes
plain his differences from the Perennialists, that docs not mean he
underrated their importance. Leo Schava, on whose works the study
of the Qabbalah and Jew'ish mysticism in Ishiki to honshitsu was based,
was a member of the Traditionalist school; as this shows, Izutsu was
receptive to the emergence of the intellectual current known as Tra­
ditionalism. There wrcrc tw7o w7orks hvj Schava
j and several by. Nasr in
Izutsu’s library, but none bv Guenon or Selmon. And yet it is incon­
ceivable that Izutsu w'ould have been unfamiliar wath the 'traditionalist
school’s t\\'o foremost thinkers. Nasr w’as so decisivelyj influenced bv*
them that lie wrent so far as to declare that no one had read Selmon as
thoroughly as he had. Izutsu and Nasr w'ould later become colleagues
at the Imperial Iranian Academy of Philosophy. Perhaps the two dis­
cussed the Traditionalist school.
 Judging from the name, one might he apt to assume that the Impe­
rial Iranian Academy of Philosophy was a research center for Islamic
thought, but that would merely be a preconception based on the
post-revolutionarv Iranian regime. As the fact that its journal was called
Sophia perennis clcarlv shows, the Academ y was a place to pursue
“ perennial” wisdom; it was not Islamic, it wras Traditionalist. The Impe­
rial Iranian Academy of Philosophy wras founded in 1974 by a grant
from the Empress of Iran under the then imperial system to honor
Nasr’s nomination byj Raymond
* Klibansky•> as an official member of
the Institut International dc Philosophic. Nasr, of course, served as the
Academy’s director. He invited Izutsu along with Corbin and others to
the Academy. William Chittick, who edited The Essential Served 11 os­
sein Nasr (2007), studied under Izutsu during his stay there. In pre-rev­
olutionary Iran, Islam was not an absolute religion. Rather, the Shah
enacted policies of religious tolerance; the Iranian revolution wras, in
part, a reaction against these liberal policies.
As can be seen from the inclusion of an essay by Izutsu in a 2003
anthology of essays primarily bv members of the Traditionalist school
entitled Seeing God Everywhere™ —the title is taken from Sclmon —
even outside Japan, Izutsu has been regarded as a 'Traditionalist because
of his relationship w ith Nasr and Chittick. But to speak of a closeness
between Izutsu and the Perennialists from such circumstances is only
scratching the surface. It should be clear from the following statement
that the existential distance from the Traditionalist school that Izutsu
felt wras bv no means insignificant.

If there are philosophers wrho trv to formulate a permanent, unchang­

ing (?) abstract moral philosophy, I don’t think I would deny the
value of such an undertaking. But, even in a ease like this, I would
insist that, before developing such abstract speculations as these, phi­
losophers must self-consciouslv pass through the even denser realm
of differences in linguistic and cultural paradigms.60
One can readily imagine that “ a permanent, unchanging (?) abstract
moral philosophy” refers to Traditionalist thought. But, as his words
imply, that did not mean that Izutsu rejected the Traditionalist school.
It wras Izutsu, after all, commenting on the differences between the
Hellenic* Cod and the Hebraic Cod, who perceived that tlicv did not
indicate differences in God but merely differences among theolo­
gians. Perhaps, given the critical state that religion was in, he under­
stood the inevitability that a Traditionalist current of thought would
arise. In Sufism and I'aoism, Izntsn used the term philosophia pcrcu-
nis and regarded its actualization as the fundamental objective behind
the writing of that study/11 lie was no less desirous for a philosophia
perennis than the Traditionalists. But Izntsn also regarded it as taboo to
construct his own philosophy on the presupposition that a “Tradition”
exists. This conviction remained unchanged from the time of Sufism
and Taoism. 1 tax ing disclosed his inner aspirations, he did not conceal
in his own work the acute sense that the ideal dimension was much too
far aw*av to catch a glimpse of. What human beings call “ G o d ” is, after
all, onlxr a tinv portion of “ G o d ” and falls far short of the transcendental
Absolute. 1 low can those who see only a fragment speak of the whole?
It was from doubts such as these that he could not avert his eves.
What would happen, Izutsu asks, if all the instances of the word
koi /St in the Manyoshu were translated as “ loxre” ? Does the Japanese
word seigi IE St mean the same thing as the Knglish word “ justice” ?
As he observes in Koran o yomu (1983; Reading the Koran), the Arabic
word dJn, meaning “ judgment,” wTen used in certain contexts, is not a
judgment of good and evil, but is directly connected with the regener­
ation of the world including the resurrection of the dead. Needless to
sax’, the same holds true for the xxord “ God.” For Izutsu, differences in
language are not merely differences in x'oeabulary; thexr express differ­
ences in reality. For that reason, not onlxr does he consider translation
in the strict sense impossible, he also beliexes that human beings are
incapable of completely conx'ex'ing xxTat they mean in xx ords. On that
premise, he became a philosopher xx lio expressed himself in xx'ords.
And it is precisely7for that xerx’ reason that he learned more than thirty
languages, read the classics of the Fast and the West in the languages
in xx hieh thex' xverc original 1x7xx ritten, and desired the birth of a meta­
language, a common philosophical language.
The same doubts he harbored about language he directed tow ard the
'Tradition, i.e. toxxard the “ perennial” Reality of the'Traditionalist school.
He did not choose the path of a Tradition that transcended culture;
rather, lie recognized that diverse cultures, too, are manifestations of the
universal. It is not aunatter of envisaging a transcendental dimension
somewhere bevond the points that cultures have in common; the unit)'
of the Transcendent exists beyond their differences, Izutsu believed.

The world manifests itself through semantic articulation. All phe­

nomena and all things are concrete manifestations of a person’s suh-
jective semantic articulation. “

This passage was written in the last vear of Izutsu’s life, at the time he
was revising hni no kozo (1992; T h e structure of meaning). It would
be fair to say it encapsulates Toshihiko lzutsu’s philosophy. Culture in
the phenomenal world is non-transcendent. Superficially, it is noth­
ing more than a phenomenon. Yet writhing in its depths is “ meaning,”
which causes phenomena to manifest themselves. What we ought to
take away from this is that meaning does not occur in the noumenal
world; it is hidden along with “ reality” in the phenomenal world. It
mav he possible to discuss the noumenal world. But human beings do
not live in the noumenal world; they live in the phenomenal world.
Philosophy must on no account divorce itself from the realities of this
world, Izutsu believed.
T he view that, at the highest level, all religions converge on Tra­
dition is not merely an empty theoretical argument; as the writings
of the thinkers who belong to the Traditionalist school fully convey,
it is backed up bv their existential experiences. Izutsu would presum­
ably acknowledge this. But, he would argue, there is no single point at
which religions converge; thev are parallel in Otto’s sense. It is not a
matter of presupposing a reality that transcends culture; it is cultural
reality itself that giv es expression to the transcendence of the Transcen­
dent, he believed.
The following quotation is from Ishiki to honshitsu. “ C ulture” or
“spirituality ” could just as well be substituted for “ essence” here.

There was a unique ancient Greek svstem of “ essence” in ancient

Greece and a unique ancient Chinese system of “essence” in ancient
China. Neither Soerates, who gave rise to a new philosophical
 moyement by searching for an eternal, in in intabic “essence” (Idea) ol
tilings, nor Confucius, who likewise sought for the “essence” (Truth)
ol things and built a svstcin to “rectify names” based on it, were able
to escape the limitations of the system of “essence” that their rcspcc-
ti\ c cultures assumed. “Ksscncc” was not something they created; it
was simply something they had to Imd and correctly understand/’'

1 know of no statement in w'liieb Toshihiko Izutsu’s theory of “ essence”

is expressed with sneh absolute elarity as this. Sankara’s acWaita monism
in ancient India; l,ao-tz.u and Chuang-t/.fi’s Taoism and Confucius’
rectification of names in China; Plato’s theory of Ideas in ancient
Greece — lzutsu is not arguing that they are all the same; each, from
its own unique yantage point, sheds light upon the truth, he beliewed.
All these sages formulated their own ideas, knowing that they could
not escape the framework of the “ essence’ system presupposed by their
cultures. “ ‘ Ksscncc’ was not something they created; it was simply
something they had to find and correctly understand.’’ Phis sentence
shows bow acutely aware of cultural differences lzutsu was. It also
points out the dangers of seeing n 1litx carelessly. What lzutsu deals with
in Ishiki to honshitsu is not the unity of different cultures or spirituali­
ties. His focus is not on their agreement but on their subtle differences.
Differences do not only giee rise to friction; rather, they show' that there
can be many different routes by which to reach the uniyersal. Seeing
the One in the Many is a pcrspcctiyc that permeates Ishiki to honshitsu.
Differences among religions seem perplexing to those proceeding
along the \yay to God, and the multiplicity of philosophies appears to
make the discoycry of truth difficult. But, as Ibn ‘Arab! made clear, if
all things primordially are articulated self-extensions of Being, religion
does not conceal God; it can be said to be C o d ’s persona. Culture, too,
is nothing less than a symbol of Being. Multiple personae may some­
times lead us into confusion, but the fact that there are main' ways to
God may be a blessing as well.
V
 Consciousness and Essence

On the Eve of “ Isliiki to honshitsu”

r an o s, the su m m e r 1979 — Dctlef Ingo Eauf, an authorih
E
of

on Tibetan Iantra, speaking passionateh’ into Toshihiko Izutsu’s

ear, as if blowing something in, tells him, “ We Westerners must now
understand Oriental wisdom from within. Because that is where the
potential for developing a completely new’ higher knowledge is hid­
den.” 1 often recall those words, Izutsu writes in the Afterword to Ishiki
to honshitsu (1983; Consciousness and essence).' As we have already
seen, the foundations for this work had been laid during the dozen or
so years in which Izutsu was actiye at Eranos. In its subject matter, per­
spectives and structure, this work is permeated with the Eranos spirit.
Serialization began in June 1980 and ended seven installments later in
February 1982. Izutsu continued to attend Eranos while writing “ Ishiki
to honshitsu.”2 In this chapter, italics will be used to refer to Ishiki to
honshitsu the book and quotation marks will be used for the essay seri­
alized under that name in the periodical Shiso ('Thought) that forms
the core of that book. For the most part, it is this long essay that will be
discussed here.

T h e mission of Eranos is to elucidate the existence of nous —

Intellect —and the noumcnal world. But human beings cannot experience
the purelv nounienal world directly. If then' could, it would not be purely
uoumeual. Harnessing the power of traditional religions, philosophy,
the arts and cutting-edge science, the participants at Kranos aspired to
make the nounienal world open and accessible to all humankind as an
experience that, if not primal, could be regarded as coming as close as
humanly possible to it. 'Their mission was nothing less than to find the
place, midwav between the phenomenal and nounienal worlds, where
primal events occur. The discovery of a transcendent-oriented Zwischen-
welt became the aim of Kranos. Adolf Portmann, who embodied the
Kranos spirit, called the region that lay between the “ macrocosmos”
and the “ mierocosmos” the “ Mediokosmos.” Corbin called it munclus
imaginalis; Izutsu the A/-realm, and to the seething dynamism in that
realm he gave the name “ linguistic alciya-consciousness.” "The difference
in names is not the issue. What is extraordinary is that, despite differences
in their ur-experiences, the activities of each of these men were carried
out eollaborativelv in the true sense.
T he human world and the transcendental w'orld form a contin­
uum, and the latter subsumes the former. In addition, there exists
an intermediate zone, perceptible to human beings, w'here at every
m om ent that truth arises. For the participants at Kranos, Izutsu
included, wisdom did not mean the mere accumulation of knowledge;
it was something that issues forth from the mediocosmos. For them, “ to
know” meant to chip aw'av at the previously known information that
had accumulated in the sensible world and get back to the nounienal
dimension. In this process, the One w'ho truly speaks is not a human
being. Human beings only witness and report the events that It has
manifested. As is frequentlv seen, what outstanding thinkers discuss is
not w'hat tliev themselves think but something the true Speaker has
said. Plato and Aristotle called this Speaker nous\ Ibn ‘Arab! “ Being” ;
Suhraw ardl “ light” ; Izutsu “ W O R D .”
Upon hearing L a u f’s w’ords, Izutsu w'rites that he thought, “ Instead
of waiting for Westerners, shouldn’t we Easterners ourselves first make
the effort to understand, personally and existentiallv, our own philo­
sophic traditions once again from w ithin?” 'Hie words “ personallv” and
“ existentially” have w’eightv significance for Izutsu. For him as a phi­
losopher, they are synonvmous with saving he was staking his life on it.
“To . . . understand, personally and existentially, . . . from within . . . is
not just to stnch' |these tradilions| scientifically and philologicalh.” It is
nothing less than to dedicate one’s whole self to the “ effort of going one
step further, internalizing the yarious traditions of Oriental thought in
our own consciousness and, from within the magnetic field of Oriental
philosophy that is spontaneously formed there, bringing forth a new
philosophy in a global context.” "
In 1978, the year before the outbreak of the Iranian rcyolution
forced Toshihiko Izutsu to return to Japan, 87?//?/;/ tetsugaku (1949; Phi­
losophy of mysticism) was republished. The following is from the fore­
word written at that time.

Keen if 1 were subsequentlx to consider writing a sequel to this work

[Sliinf)i tetsugaku], were I so inclined, I would probable not take
tbe route that leads from the Old Testament to Christianity, for
me, now, Jewish mysticism from the Oabbnhlh to 1 lasidism is a far
more important line of thought in the Old Testament tradition, and,
as I said before, fl find] Indian esoteric philosophy and the mystical
thought of China and of Islam \astly more interesting.4
This statement, which proyidcs a glimpse of the areas of Oriental phi­
losophy Izutsu had in mind —Jewish mysticism, Indian esoteric phi­
losophy, the mystical thought of China and Islam— foreshadows the
appearance of “ Ishiki to honshitsu.” As the \yords “ were 1 so inclined”
suggests when he wrote the preceding passage, he probably new’er
imagined he woidd be returning to Japan the following year and start
writing books in Japanese again. Izutsu, wiio had won international
acclaim not only for his Islamic scholarship but also for his studies of
philosophical semantics, was affiliated at the time with the Imperial
Iranian Academy of Philosophy, played a central role at 111ranos and
w as the author of many works in Knglish.

At the end of January 1979, Izutsu boarded a plane at the Tehran

airport bound for Athens. The plane he was on was the last rescue mis­
sion sent by the Japanese goyernment on the eye of the Iranian rcyolu­
tion. Around the same time, a plane carrying the Ayatollah Khomeini
had left Athens and wras heading to Iran in the opposite direction.
 Prcrcx'olutionarx' Iran had not been an Islamic state. T h e Shah
of Iran, M ohamm ad Reza Pahlavi II, had enacted policies providing
not only for the separation of church and state but guaranteeing equal
opportunity for non-Muslims to practice their religious faiths. During
the so-called White Rex'olution, agrarian reforms, w o m en ’s suffrage,
educational reforms, etc., \\rere suecessixelv implemented. These Shah-
led reforms at times spawned religious and political purges and repres­
sion, and the rapid pace of modernization ga\rc rise to poverty and
economic disparity, resulting in great suffering among the citizenry. At
the root of these policies w as the effort to deny absolute status to Islam.
And the priority gi\;en to modernization rather than to defending the
Islamic tradition would become a primary factor behind the unrest.
Khomeini was diametrically opposed to the White Rexolution. Because
in those dax's power still resided xx ith the Shah, Khomeini was forced
into exile in 1964. Fifteen x'ears later the Iranian revolution occurred.
In mid-Januarx\ about txx'o weeks before Izutsu left Tehran, the Shah
and the Empress, carrying a box containing Iranian soil, flew abroad on
the pretext of seeking medical treatment. They would nex er set foot in
Iran again.
Discontent oxer social deprix'ation \\ras not the sole motivating
force behind the Iranian rex'olution. T he eruption that occurred went
well beyond what modern political science could ha\re predicted. In
opposition to the Shah’s x'ision of a renaissance of ancient Iranian cul­
ture, a spiritual impulse flared up among Khomeini’s followers desiring
instead the rex’ix'al of Shl’ite Islam. Preparations w'ere under xx'av to call
back from abroad their absent imam. In the Shi ite sect, the imam is the
successor to Ali, the fourth caliph, in a direct spiritual line of descent
from the Prophet M uham m ad. That succession continued until the
twelfth imam, Muhammad al-Muntazar, xx'hom Shl’itcs beliexe is “ the
hidden one.” Although nonbeliex ers claim he \\ras assassinated, Shl’itcs
sax he went into seclusion. This Occupation (ghavbci) continues exen
to this day, and the faithful ferx'entlv axx'ait the imam’s second coming.
Until that day, a spiritual leader must scrx'c as his substitute. "Phis is
what Khomeini called the Gox'ernance of the Jurist (veldvat-e fciqTh).
As the title “ Imam Khomeini” sxanbolizcs, after the rexolution, lie was
recognized as hax'ing absolute authority ox'er both polities and religion.
 If it had been his intention, Izutsu eon 1cl have left Tehran much
sooner. Bv the autumn of the previous year, “ arson, assaults and assas­
sinations bv bloodthirsty mobs were daily occurrences cvcrvwhcrc
throughout Tehran. Just below' the window of our apartment in central
Tehran, the rat-ta-tat-tat of machincgun fire would suddcnlv pierce the
hcavv darkness of night,” he writes.** At the time, “aided hv superb col­
leagues” at the Imperial Iranian Academy of Philosophv, Izutsu was
proceeding in tandem with work “ centered on editing and annotating
unpublished Islamic philosophical texts |in areas such as| non-Aristote­
lian speech act thcorv in the basic theory of Islamic jurisprudence, the
metaphysical foundations of Sufism, etc. In an unusuallv tense atmo­
sphere, we held regular meetings and cntlmsiasticallv pressed ahead
with our research.”6
International socictv did not believe that a chaotic Iran could
ensure the safetv of non-Iranians. Izutsu decided to leave the countrv.
“ Leaving all this behind,” he “ unwillinglv departed Iran.” 'The follow­
ing passage eonvevs his feelings at the time.

At night, a depressing rain was falling heavilv. Suddenly, from the

rooftop of a nearbv building, a mournful erv praising Allah rang out.
Immediately, other voices from the surrounding rooftops took up the
call. 'TIiis was a fierce challenge to the imperial regime. Government
troops took aim from below. As 1 looked up at the dark skv, for some
reason the word “fate” flitted through my mind.

Izutsu called himself a “ fatalist” in the colloquy with Shotard YasuokaP

In this instance, “ fate” docs not refer to a predestined outcome, hut
rather to an agenev that on occasion intervenes in human life in forceful
and revelatory wavs and requires us to change the direction in which we
are proceeding. On the one hand, Izutsu felt an unflagging interest in his
w’ork in Iran, but “ strangely, not the slightest feeling of regret at leaving
it all behind ever occurred to me,” lie writes,9 a clear statement of how-
lie lived his life. But that was not all; no sooner had lie sat down in his
scat on the rescue plane than Izutsu began thinking of what lie would
do next. On the plane, he embraced the “ feeling, somew’hcrc between
hope and resolve, that from now- on I would try to develop mv ideas on
Oriental philosophv in Japanese and express them in Japanese.” 10
 Why did Toshihiko Izutsiywrite “ Ishiki to honshitsu” in Japanese?
The fact that he had taken up residence in Japan is, in his ease, not by
itself a sufficient reason. It would not have been difficult for him to live
in Japan and continue writing in English for a worldwide audience; far
from it, it would have been an extension of the work he had been doing
up to that point. Even after his return to Japan, he did not stop present­
ing papers at academic conferences abroad. Indeed, he gave lectures
in English not long after his return to Japan. Considering the environ­
ment he was working in at the time, it would have been more natural
for him to write in English. There were readers for his English-lan­
guage works all over the world. In fact, he was in the process of revising
Sufism cind Taoism (1966-1967) at the same time that he was writing
“ Ishiki to honshitsu.” On the other hand, Toshihiko Izutsu, who knew
more than thirty languages, was deeply aware of the decisive role played
by one’s mother tongue. People can choose their primarv language by
changing their environment, but no one can choose their native lan­
guage. Eor Toshihiko Izutsu, W O R D is inseparable from language, but
not confined to it. Just as color is W O R D for artists, sound becomes
W O R D for musicians. In mandala, it is images; in psvchology, arche­
types. When we look at the life of Ibn ‘Arab!, there are situations in
which mutual understanding is achieved not through language, but by
the power of feeling, as it were. Feeling, too, is W O R D .
“ If a Japanese living today were to take up a topic of Oriental phi­
losophy and simplv studv it at the level of modern consciousness, by
that act alone an encounter between Eastern and Western thought
would already occur in the field of existential experience, and a blend­
ing of Oriental and Occidental perspectives, in short, a kind of com ­
parative philosophy East and West, would be automatically realized.” 11
Thus, if, as a Japanese, he expressed himself in Japanese, a “ synchronic
structuralization of Oriental philosophy” would spontancouslv be
accomplished. This is how Izutsu describes his motivation for writing
“ Ishiki to honshitsu.”
Not mail}' readers are likely to nod in agreement at these words,
hut if the\’ lent an unbiased ear to what Izutsu was saying, he was let­
ting them know what he expected of “ a Japanese living todav.” What
he wanted was not just to finish his cssav, but to find readers for it.
 I hcy could possibly be his contemporaries, but lie was probable hop­
ing for future readers as well. Just as a last will and testament is brought
to completion by being read, a literary work is born in the true sense
not when it is written but when it is read. And if it is blessed with a
reader who not only understands it, but internalizes it, it is reborn and
will continue to be reborn. Reading “ Isbiki to bonshitsu” does not end
with an understanding ofToshihiko Izutsu’s intellectual conclusions.
This work defies such an easy approach. "This book teaches that basic
human propositions continue to live on in its readers. Whenever 1 read
this work, I recall a passage that Takaaki Yoshimoto (1924-2012) added
to the introduction when his Kyodo gensoron (On collective illusion)
w as included in his selected works. “ I low can it have an impact on
someone who begrudges tbe effort and hard work needed to under­
stand it?” 12 It would come as no surprise if rToshihiko Izutsu had
addressed the same words to readers of “ Isliiki to honshitsu.”
Ishiki to honshitsu is Izutsu’s magnum opus. If, for some reason,
one could only choose one work by Toshihiko Izutsu to read, it would
have to be this book. It is his magnum opus, not in the sense of being a
summation of his wrork, but because one would form the wrong impres­
sion of its author if one w’ent ahead without reading it. “There are dif­
ficulties with reading a long novel that very closely resemble making
one’s wav through life.” 1" Hidco Kobavashi’s dictum is not limited to
novels. The same could be said of the works of a philosopher who, like
Toshihiko Izutsu, had the soul of a poet.

A d Orientem

At the time that “ Ishiki to honshitsu” began to be serialized in the peri­

odical Shiso (Thought), Toshihiko Izutsu was sixtv-thrcc years old. At
the outset, he planned to stop after the second essay, he wrote, but seri­
alization would continue at intervals over twro years and ultimately ran
to eight installments. “As I kept on writing, I couldn’t put down mv
pen.” 14 This statement is unlikely to be true in the sense that he came
to feel this way as the number of installments began to accumulate.
He probably already realized after finishing the first installment that,
once complete, this wxmld become his major w'ork. There are clear
differences in the w riting style of the first and second installments. The
first rapidly traced the course of his life as a philosopher in a way that
would connect to the next, but, from the second one on, the tone was
different. T he subject matter pulled the w'ritcr along, a situation similar
perhaps to that of a novelist wa iting a novel whose characters begin
to take on a life of their ow n. If a character in a novel behaves as the
author intends, Mauriae savs, the novelist is left clutching at sloughed-
off skin.15 A scholarlvj work is different from a novel, someone max'*
say, but, as can be seen from a glance at Shinpi tetsugaku, Roshiateki
ningen (1953; Russian humanitv) and Sufism and Taoism , Ixutsu con­
tended that, when the mvsteries are revealed, the Speaker is no longer
a human being. Cases also exist, like that of Muhammad, that unmis­
takably indicate the role of a prophet. In ancient Greece, it wTas philos­
ophers and poets wfho assumed that function.
It is no accident that “ Ishiki to honshitsu” strongly moved readers
outside the field of philosophy in a narrow' sense —authors such as Slul-
saku Endo and Keizo Hino (1929-2002), linguistic philosopher Keiz-
aburo Maruvama (1933-1993) and Jungian psvchologist Havao Kaw'ai
(1928-2007). Although “ Ishiki to honshitsu” is the most important phil­
osophical essay to have emerged in twentieth-century Japan, it is also
a w'ork of “ criticism” bv Toshihiko Izutsu, w'ho, at one time, both in
name and in fact, had been a first-rate literary critic. There is no tabic
of contents for this lengthv essav, which in the paperback version is
more than 300 pages long; not onlv that, there are no subheadings and
not a single note. There had been two or three notes in the first install­
ment, but none from the second on, and, at the time the work was
published in book form, even those early notes w'ere all woven into the
text. This is an unusual format for a scholarlv work, but natural tor a
work of criticism.
“ Ishiki to honshitsu” contains several kev concepts, but Izutsu docs
not define them. One of these is the “ Orient.” He w rites in such a wav
that the context prepares for the term’s meaning to be revealed. This
makes strong demands on the reader not just to understand the words
at an mtcll ectual level but to get a feeling for them and learn trom
experience. T h e reader is forced to stop looking for information as to
the whereabouts of the Orient and wait for it to become self-evident.
Tlic subtitle of the book Ishiki to hoiishilsii is “ scishintcki Tovd o
motomete” (In search of the spiritual Orient); for the serialized cssav,
“ Ishiki to honshitsu,” it is “Tovo Ictsugaku no kydjiteki kdzoka no tame
ni” (For a synehronie structural i/.ation of Oriental philosophy). And for
the volume in the selected works, which was to become the authorized
version, the subtitle was changed once again and became “Tdvoteki
shii no kdzdtcki scigdsci o motomete’’ (In search of the structural inte­
gration of Oriental thought). Although one can tell that the central
subject is the Orient, Izutsu did not write about it cxplicitlv. It is onlv in
the colloquies that he refers to the Orient several times.
Izutsu’s Orient includes not just the region called Asia —Japan,
China, Korea, Southeast Asia, the Middle Fast —but also Greece and
Russia. We have seen up to now that its range extends from Japanese
literature and Japanese thought to Confucianism, Taoism, Buddhist
thought — Yocagara (Wei Shih), Zen and Shingon esotcrieism,—
Indian philosophv, Islamic philosophy and even Creek philosophv
and Russian literature. For Izutsu, though, its purview sometimes even
crosses the Straits of Gibraltar. What lies across those Straits is Spain.
To be sure, Ibn ‘Arab! was born in Murcia, and Averrocs in Cordoba,
but Spain was also the birthplace of the Discalccd Carmelite Order,
the home of Teresa of Avila and the motherland of John of the Cross,
whom Izutsu at one time regarded as the apogee of mvsticism. Cross­
ing those Straits in the opposite direction, one arrives in Morocco, the
gateway to the African continent. In the fourth century, Augustine was
born in what was then the Numidian cih' of Tagaste. “The true succes­
sor to the spirit of the great mystic Plotinus was not Proelus or Iambli-
chus but Augustine,” Izutsu once wrote.’6 Plotinus died in Rome, but
be was born in Fgvpt.
But the full scope of Izutsu’s Orient cannot be perceived even
by conjuring up a vast territorv that crosses several national borders
and brings together numerous cultural zones. For he regarded it as a
mental and spiritual concept rather than a geographical region. The
Orient is also an “ imaginal” place, predicated on bis ow n existential
experiences. Henry Corbin coined the concept “ imaginal” by translat­
ing Suhrawardf’s ‘alam al-mithcil, the world of figurative similitudes,
into the Latin phrase inundus iniagiiialis. Suhrawardl, an Islamic
mystic philosopher who lived in the twelfth century, was also a the-
osophist who saw' himself as the inheritor of the w'isdom passed down
from Pythagoras and Plato. He regarded it as his mission to purify
Islam completely. T h e Islamic wav would be brought to perfection,
he believed, w'hen Islam was purged to the point that it ceased to be
Islamic. Whereas Ibn ‘Arab! had been shunned by Islamic conserva­
tives, Suhraw'ardl wras targeted by them; he is thought to have been
assassinated. Izutsu left a comprehensive studv of Ibn ‘Arab! in English,
but no definitive w'ork on Suhraw'ardl. He had planned to translate
Suhraw'ardls magnum opus, Hibncit al-Ishrdq (The Philosophy of Illu­
mination), but it never materialized. I Iis feeling of awe and respect for
Suhraw'ardl, how'ever, w-as in no w'ay inferior to w'hat he felt for Ibn
‘Arab!. Commenting on Suhraw'ardl in “ Ishiki to honshitsu,” he said:

He [Suhraw'ardl] is not speaking about mere images of angels. Kor

him, angels really exist. Angels may not exist in our world, but they
do exist in a different dimension of being, what he ealled the “Orient”
or the “land of matutinal light.”1

Izutsu w'as probably like Suhraw'ardl in believing that angels really

exist. T he Orient for him mayj have been Suhrawa rdf’s “ land of matuti-
nal light,” “ a different dimension of being.”
With this one w'ord “ Orient,” Toshihiko Izutsu confronts 11s w'ith
the intangible traditions of human w'isdom. “ 1 hope to separate out Ori­
ental philosophy as a whole from the complex historical associations
that surround its various traditions, transfer those traditions to the level
of synchronic
j ideas and structuralize them there anew',” Izutsu writes
at the beginning of “ Ishiki to honshitsu.” 18 T h e w'ork’s aim is clearly
summed up in this one sentence. By “structuralize,” he means to apply
the flesh of logic to an invisible entity. Just as W O R D for Izutsu tran­
scends the realm of linguistics, “ structure” transcends the category of
structuralism. In contrast to structuralism, w'hich tries to bring the real­
ity' of the other w'orld into a w'orld wre regard as real, Izutsu considered
it to be the aim of philosophy' to deal w'ith the “ structure” of the other
world. “ Synchronic” connotes an expository technique that frees think­
ers and thoughts from the axis of time, gathers them together in the
present, and treats the issues they' pose as “ contemporary” problems.
 Syncliroiiicitv is a Jungian term referring to the experience of
events that may be unrelated cansallv but that are felt to be related
meaningfully. In Jung’s use of the term, however, although coinci­
dences arc events that occur synchronically, his real aim is not to draw
the reader's attention to synchronic phenomena. Rather, these are
merely corroborations of an underlying pattern, proof that the world
is a diverse, multilayered
- realitvj that causes svnchronieitv
* j
to occur.
Svnchronieitv breaks through the barrier of time. The irreversibility of
time is not antithetical to eternity. Rather, the fact that time, once past,
can never come back again is proof of eternity's existence. Eternity is
not a long duration of time; eternity is always “ now.” The past exists as
past; eternity, provided human beings make the necessary preparations,
always manifests itself in the present. Kliadc calls anyone who has had
an encounter with the sacred, be it a shaman, prophet, mystic, apostle
or saint, "homo reli&iosus
Cz
," and observes that they. arc all unfettered bvj

the shackles of time and space. "The manifestation of the sacred, which
he calls “ hierophany,” is, in other words, nothing less than the begin­
ning of eternity.
Izutsu, who attempted to develop a synchronic approach to Orien­
tal philosophy, did not underrate the irreversibility of history. Indeed, he
wrote one work after another that deals empirically with the historical
development of thought. His earliest books, Arabia shisoshi (1941; 1 Iis-
tory of Arabic thought), Shinpi tetsugaku and even Roshiateki ningen ,
eould not have been written without a clear historical perspective. While
his scholarly methodology may have been empirical, “synchronic” eon-
notes an existential attitude. The two are not mutually exclusive. On
the contrary, if his scholarship had not been supported by synchronic
events, wouldn’t it have been difficult to he empirieal in the true sense?
Events that we regard as fortuitous may, on a different level, be inevi­
table. Synchronic events clearly teach us that phenomenal-world ratio­
nalism does not necessarily apply in the noumenal world. Moreover,
the synchronic dimension is a-temporal not timeless; it has a dynamism
different from that of the phenomenal world. To be synchronic is noth­
ing else than to stand on the multilayered nature of time.
When “ Ishiki to honshitsu” began to evolve in earnest, Izutsu step
by step began to deal with Motoori Norinaga (1730-1801), the great
scholar of Japanese philology^and philosophy. Norinaga’s attitude in
writing about the Kojiki (ca 711-712; Records of ancient matters), the
oldest existing chronicle of Japanese history, is reminiscent of Izutsifs
in waiting “ Ishiki to honshitsu.” Scholarly aceuraev and svnchronic-
itv coexist in w'avs that are both multilayered and three-dimensional.
Be it \yritten works or people w'ho lived in the past, if called upon,
they would respond — didn’t both Izutsu and Norinaga bclicyc that?
For them, “ reading” \yas an actiyity that \yent beyond intellectual
understanding.

For {hat reason, naturally, WORDs must be clear. To understand,

through a chain of clear WORDs that a writer has juxtaposed, the
meaning behind them that existed from the beginning in the w'riter’s
mind —i.e. their prelinguistic reality—that is what 1 call “reading.”19

If he had not had an existential experience of a similar kind, Norinaga

w'ould probably neycr have completed his commentary on the Kojiki,
nor would he have been able to dedieate thirty-fiyc years of his life to
doing so. For Norinaga, Hieda no Are, the Kojiki’s eighth-centurv com­
piler, mav haye been his predecessor, but he was not a person of the
distant past. Just as Norinaga thought of the Kojiki as a liying thing,
Toshihiko Izutsu treated the sages who appear in “ Ishiki to honshitsu”
as if they w'ere present here and now' and inyited the reader to join
them there.

A Spiritual Autobiography

Toshihiko Izutsu left yirtually no biographical material — no autobiog­

raphy, memoirs, collected letters or diary; or, at least, nothing of this
sort has been made public. But a careful reading of “ Ishiki to hon-
shitsu” allows readers not onlyj to see firsthand the fruits of the author’s
thinking but also to w itness his philosophical and spiritual progress.
“ Ishiki to honshitsu” can be read as lzutsu’s intellectual and spiri­
tual autobiography. Just as the record of a poet’s life is found not in a
chronology but in his/her poems, the life of a philosopher is recorded
in his/her w'ritings.
 In Aristotle’s Metaphysics, the twelfth hook, in which he developed
his ideas about God, has traditionally been treated as an independent
work know'll as Book Lambda. When reading “ lshiki to honshitsu”
as spiritual autobiography, the first and tenth sections, I believe, are
Izutsu’s Book Lambda. It is probably far more beneficial for an under­
standing of Toshihiko Izutsu’s spiritual progress to read Section I sev­
eral times than to aimlessly proceed any further. The first person Izutsu
alludes to there is Jean-Paul Sartre. No sooner has he said that he is
undertaking the “ synchronic structuralization of Oriental philosophy”
than he begins discussing this tw’cnticth-ccnturv Lrench existential
philosopher,
hi “ Dcrida no naka no Tudayajin’” (The “ Jew” in Derrida), Izutsu
deals w'itli the intellectual and spiritual Jewishness of Jacques Derrida;2'
the same subject matter is taken up in his discussion of Sartre. Sartre was
a leading French writer —and a Jew. No matter howr often Sartre tried
to deny God, a Hebraic spirituality animated his mind. Like a desert
plant that has no need of fertile soil, Jcw’ishness continued to live on in
him even w'ithout the nourishment of faith. Izutsu became fascinated
with Sartre when he read La Nausee (1938; Nausea, 1965). Reading that
work, it w'ould be fair to sav, w'as a life-changing event. His encounter
with this novel even seems to have led him to philosophy. In Japan at
the time, few knew’ Sartre’s name; even in intellectual circles, knowledge
of, or information about, him wras limited. Suddenly, out of nowhere,
rumors had come to people’s attention that he had caused a furor in
Furopc; that was about all that was know'll. The only person in Japan
A

to have a copy of the recently published L'Ltre et le neant (1943; Being

and Nothingness, 1956),21 rumor had it, w'as the philosopher Arimasa
Mori (1911-1976), and he w'ouldn’t show’ it to anyone. “And even if 1
did, it’s much too difficult for ordinary Japanese to be able to understand
it,” Mori is supposed to have said. “ Whether true or false, at an}’ rate,
that w'as the storv. . . . This rumor thoroughly inflamed 114 curiosity,”
Izutsu wrote.22 The person w'lio passed on Arimasa M ori’s comment
to Izutsu mav have been Masao Sekine. In an essav contributed to an
insert accompanying Izutsu’s selected w’orks, Sekine waites that be was
the intermediary who introduced Toshihiko Izutsu and Arimasa Mori
to one another after the w’arT
 One da}', Izutsu found a, popv of Koji S h irai’s translation of La
Nausee in a pile of books at a bookstore near Kcio University. Because
Izutsu mentions its distinctive red eover, it seems to have been the one
published by Seijisha in 1947.24 Although Izutsu had publielv stated
that “ all foreign works should a 1wavs be read in the language in whieh
the\' were written/’ just this onee, he “ eouldn’t be bothered with sueh
preeepts and principles’’ and devoured the translation in two days and
two nights.2’ “What Oriental sages from time immemorial have devel­
oped in the form of eoneepts of ontological deconstruction sueh as mu
[Non-Being] or ku [Nothingness, void or emptiness], Sartre has exis­
tentially vomited up and brought into the field of modern philosophy
as a kind of failure of language, in short, as the eritieal consciousness’s
experience of the collapse of the linguistic-semantie order of existence.
T h e novelty of this personal approach fascinated m e ” would be the
way, man}’ years later, that Izutsu described his impressions of reading
this work.26
What faseinated him was the “ ecstatic” experience of Nausea's pro­
tagonist, Antoine Roquentin. One da}' Roquentin is in a park.

The roots of the chestnut tree were sunk in the ground just under my
bench. I couldn’t remember it was a root an}- more. The words had
vanished and with them the significance of things, their methods of
use, and the feeble points of reference which men have traced on their
surface. I was sitting, stooping forward, head bowed, alone in front of
this black, knotty mass, entirely beastlv, whieh frightened me.2

Sartre’s vivid description of this existential experience shook Izutsu

profound]}'. “ 1 know' of no other passage that so brilliantly gives shape
to the relationship between absolute, unartieulated “ Being” and the
operation of the human consciousness that produces things, namelv
“ beings,” using the meaning of W O R D S as elues and draw'ing fine,
segmental lines v ertical 1\' and horizontallv to Its surfaee. ”2>s The shoek
of the encounter remained so vivid w ithin him that, even though some
fort}' years had passed, the w'riting stvle makes it seem as though it hap­
pened just the other day.
What Roquentin encountered w’as the reality of Tree stripped of its
covering. A covering may be something like the layers of skin and flesh
that protect a human being. A person cannot live if the subcutaneous
laver is peeled away, and it would probably be difficult to keep on look­
ing at someone in such a state. In the phenomenal world, having skin
is an indispcnsible condition for all things. When someone penetrates
through that skin and encounters the reality beneath, human flesh can­
not bear it, and the result is nausea. The covering spoken of here is
nothing else than what Izutsu calls “ essence” in “ lsliiki to houshitsu.”

This [the encounter with Nausea] confirmed my belief that the exis­
tential foundations for a theory of semantic articulation, which, at the
time, had little bv little been taking shape within me, possesses a uni­
versality that transcends the differences between Eastern and Western
cultures. Thereafter, my thinking began to proceed slowly but surely
in one direction.29

“Thereafter, mv thinking began to proceed slowlv but surely in one

direction” —as these words suggest, the encounter with Sartre became
the impetus behind Izutsu’s becoming a philosopher. Sartre’s influ­
ence remained strong in Shinpi tetsugaku, which was written shortly
afterward.
Izutsu was not alone in regarding the protagonist of Nausea as a
distinctly modern portrait of a mystic. In The Concept and Reality of
/
Existence, he compares Roquentin’s experience to what Etienne G i l­
son had called une extase vers le has (a descending ecstacy)E0 Gilson
was a leading twentieth-century French linguistic philosopher and an
authority on medieval philosophy, i.c. a prominent figure in Christian
philosophical circles. In Gilson’s ease, an “ ascending” mysticism would
have been Christian mysticism, but the expressions “ descending mys­
ticism” or “ descending ecstasy” would not have been purely negative
terms. If lie had thought it unworthy of serious consideration, Gilson
woidd probably have remained silent and not have used the word
“ ecstasy” at all. When it comes to the vectors of mysticism, people may
think that an upward vector is desirable, but God docs not. For Gilson,
“ ecstasy” docs not signify an incomprehensible experience incapable
of scientific explanation; it refers to the experience of God.
Before being an author and an intellectual, Sartre for Izutsu was a
visitor to the other world, something that had become rare in modern
times, lie read Nausea , Izuts.q writes, not as a novel but as a "work of
philosophy in a completely new form.” 31 That mav have been what Sar­
tre intended. The philosopher Gabriel Marcel, who was active at the
same time as, and on the same level with, Sartre, also engaged in cre­
ative writing, publishing numerous plays; for Marcel, the topie deter­
mined the choice of form. Perhaps Sartre, too, thought at the time that
he would be unable to eonfer universality on a prohlematic/ue invoking
a unique existential experience except by having it pass through the
novel form. Ever since writing Shinpi tetsugaku, Izutsn had the atti­
tude, which resembled a firm convietion, that, in order to revive phi­
losophy for the present daw one must awaken its spiritual unit)' with
literature, namclv poetrv, and that poetry and philosophy are by nature
inextricable. A poem does not depict an imaginarv world. It is nothing
less than the act of manifesting another dimension. For Izutsu, poets
are travellers from the other world; what they record in their poetry
is always the landscape of "home.” It is no accident that poets sueh as
Rilke, Basho, Mallarme and the poets of medieval Japan are discussed
along with the big philosophical questions in “ Ishiki to honshitsu.” Sar­
tre, of course, was one of them. Izutsu never stopped reading Sartre
right up until his last years. In 1985, when he was seventy-one, lie wrote
that a eopv of Being and Nothingness was on his desk along with works
on Yogaeara (Wei Shih) Buddhism.
There is vet another important event associated with Nausea that
deserves to be mentioned. It eame up in a eolloquy when Shusaku Endo
asked what had led him to Islam. Izutsu had been asked that same ques­
tion many times before and, finding it tiresome to answer, would fob
off the inquirv by saving he didn’t really know. But, as a matter of fact,
Izutsu said, “ mv encounter with Christianity became the remote eause,”
and slowly and deliberately he began to describe a eertain incident.32
He had matriculated to the middle sehool of Aoyama Gakuin, a mission
school founded bv Methodists, and every dav was forecd to take part in
morning prayers, fie put up with it somehow' during the first term, but
by the sceond, the strain was not just psvehological; it was producing
physical symptoms as well. One dav, as pravers and Bible readings by
the teachers were proceeding as usual, for some reason, he felt “ par­
ticularly hypocritical,” Izutsu recalled. “1 was overcome bv a feeling of
indescribable discomfort, finally felt sick to mv stomach” and threw up.
It was not a mild ease of nausea. I Ic ‘'threw' up everything” he bad eaten
tor breakfast that morning on the student standing in front of him. The
vomiting and diarrhea were so severe that “ to this verv dav I clearly recall
the grev color of his uniform.” ''
This incident has been cited as anecdotal evidence of Toshihiko
Ixutsu’s antipathy toward Christianity hut that is a misreading. Thereaf­
ter, not onlv was he cured of his dislike of morning pravers, Ixutsu said,
he started to feel that Christianity too, was “ something quite interest­
ing.- It is inconceivable that Ixutsu would not have recalled his own
experience of nausea when lie read Nausea. The philosophical signifi­
cance of this event might not have been understood bv Ixutsu the mid­
dle-school student, hut there can he no doubt that what lie came face
to face with was “ the critical consciousness’s experience of the collapse
of the linguistic-semantic order,” the moment when words fail, which
human beings encounter w hen they have caught a glimpse of the bed­
rock of Being. Looking hack on that day, Ixutsu said, “ It was, I believe,
an important event that determined the course of mv life.” '4
If one goes hack to the beginning of “ Isliiki to honshitsu” when it
first came out in serialixed form, one will notice that, when it came out
as a hook, the very first passage is a later addition:

Ever since Socrates passionately insisted on the absolute necessity

of “definition” for the proper exercise of human intelligence, for
the precise development of thought and for a correct understanding
of things, determining the “essence” of an object of intellection or
cognition has become part of the mainstream of the Western philo­
sophical tradition down to the present day. Setting aside whether or
not [the topic] is dealt with thematically as a study ot “essence,” the
problem of “essence,” under various guises and names, has always
dominated the speculations of thinkers throughout the history of the
Western tradition.''
When he had finished the last serialixed installment, Ixutsu probably
realixed he had produced a monograph that deconstructs the doxa
wdiieh “ has ahvavs dominated the speculations of thinkers throughout
the history of the Western tradition.” From this one passage, one can
sense Izutsifs audacity in tracing back the unbroken history of Western
philosophy to its starting point and attempting to break through “ svn-
ehronieally” to that point in time.
Insofar as it grapples with problems not just in the present but sub
specie aeternitatis, synchronic activity is never complete. As Izutsu him­
self stated in the preface to Ishiki to honshitsu, what he had undertaken
was only a “ prolegomenon” ; he understood from the outset that it would
be impossible to bring it to a successful conclusion.36 What Izutsu wrote
may only have been a prolegomenon, but, as we frequently discover in
this outstanding work, it clearly states the basic issues.

“Consciousness” and “ Essence”

In “ Ishiki to honshitsu,” the properties of the words “ consciousness”
and “ essence” themselves are different from the wav we normally use
them. According to Izutsu, “ consciousness” is inherently “ ecstatic,” a
comment he made in reference to a statement bv Sartre in “ Une idee
fondamentale de la phenomenologie de Husserl: l ’intentionnalite”
(1939; “A Fundamental Idea of Husserl’s Philosophy: Intentionality,”
2010). Izutsu never lost sight of the dictum that “ consciousness is con­
sciousness of something.” In the inseparability' of ontology and theories
of consciousness, Izutsu sees the contemporaneity and traditionalism
of Sartre.
Datsuji a compound of characters that literally means “ out
of oneself,” is a key term for understanding “ Ishiki to honshitsu.” But if
a reader were to keep on reading with only a superficial grasp of what
Izutsu means by “ consciousness” and “ essence,” s/he will completely
lose the drift of Izutsu’s argument when it begins to move dynamically.
“ Consciousness,” he writes, citing Sartre, is un glissement hors de soi,
“ a sliding outside of itself.” 3" Awaiting “ consciousness” on the outside
is “ essence” ; “ consciousness” slides “ outside of itself” toward “ essence.”
In this essav, neither “ consciousness” nor “ essence” is a static concept;
thev both evolve “ ecstatically.”
Trv looking up datsuji in a Japanese dictionary, and vou won’t find
it there. Although the first Japanese to use this word in a translation is
unknown, Shuzo Kuki used it at a very early date. We saw in Chapter
Five that, inspired bv 1 Icidcggcr’s Sein unci /eit (1927; Being and Time,
1962), he took note of ekstasis, the original meaning of datsuji, at quite
an early date and developed it as part of his argument in his study of
time. After Propos sur le temps came out in France in 1928, lie used
the expression dalsnji in his essay “ KcijijOgakutcki jikan” (1931; Meta­
physical time), which was based on a lecture he gave on his return to
Japan.'s Datsuji also appears in the first Japanese translation of Being
andTime, which was published in 1939,™ and ever since then, it has
been accepted in Japanese philosophical circles as a technical term.
The role Kuki plavcd in the development of Japanese philosophical
terminology and technical terms is worth noting, fie was also the first
to use the expression jitsuzon (%hf) for “ existential.”
Izutsu began using the term datsuji regularly from the time of
Shinpi tetsugaku in 1949. It bceamc a kev word in that work along with
shinju which literally means “ being filled with God,” i.e. entliou-
siasmos. It is not certain, however, whether Izutsu used datsuji under
the influence of Heidegger. He was already reading Sartre bv this time,
and his sense of datsuji seems nearer to Sartre’s usage, i.e. as an expe­
rience in which language fails, which closely resembles the world of
Nausea. Sartre frequently deals w ith ek-stase in Being and Nothingness,
which Izutsu read after Nausea. Being and Nothingness was w'rittcn as
a response to Heidegger’s Being and Time, and it was Kuki who made
Sartre aware of Heidegger’s existence.
Mv aim in alluding to etymology here is not merely out of interest
in the associations connected with this w'ord. The fact is that the philo­
sophical term datsuji term was horn of, and fleshed out bv, the “ ecstatic”
experiences of various thinkers and would become the impetus behind
the existential experiences of those who came after them. The w'ords in
the follow ing sentences are Kuki’s; they seem to describe w'hat datsuji
meant to him existentially. “ Philosophy, I believe, is a primal under­
standing of existence in general.”40 “ We ought to feel surprise at the
contingent fact itself that the real w'orld exists. ’The abyss of some super­
sensible thing opens up there.”4' As we can see from these statements,
the connection between Kuki and Izutsu goes beyond mere similarity.
In Shinpi tetsugaku, datsuji is acknowledged to be a translation of
the Greek w'ord ekstasis. It signifies an existential experience in which
“ the human self dies completely to its selfhood; the self is thoroughly
annihilated; the self is utterly destroyed until not even a single dust
mote of it remains.”42 If clatsuji is “ the annihilation of the relative self
as a sensible life principle,” then shinju , which Izutsu annotates as
enthousiasmos, is “ the occasion for a spiritual awakening of the abso­
lute self as a supersensible life principle” that accompanies ecstasy
and oeeurs “ immediately” with it.4’ Ekstasis is an instinctive breach­
ing of the restrictions of the phenomenal world such as self, time and
space, and an aspiration for the Other, eternity, a different dimension.
Enthousiasmos is the dispensation of Being, who reaets to it. There
is no interval between ekstasis and enthousiasmos. As Izutsu says, the
experience of ekstasis and enthousiasmos oeeurs on the same ontologi­
cal dimension as kensho (JiLId:), seeing one’s true nature/self-awareness
in Buddhism, or t'o jan kuan t'ung the enlightenment expe­
rience in Confucianism known as the “ sudden breakthrough.” Enthou­
siasmos, however, is not a special occurrence limited to mystics. Let
us, for convenience sake, call the one who does the filling up “ G od .”
If enthousiasmos were an experience that oeeurs only under narrowly
prescribed conditions, it would fall under tbe vulgar definition of mys­
ticism, i.e. that the One who does the filling up only truly exists in a
chosen few. But “ G o d ” is omnipresent, or, rather, the Transcendent,
which is omnipresent, is “ God.” The way is open to all people.
If “ consciousness” is “ a sliding outside,” “ essence” is “ a filling up.”
T h e true nature of “ essenee” lies in giving fully and completely of
itself. It is the same as what the medieval Christian mvstie A leister Lek-
hardt speaks of when he savs that if one empties oneself and becomes
nothing, God will instantly fill that person up. If it were possible to
be truly “ conscious” of “ essence,” it would be an experience of over­
flo w in g -e v e n though we are profoundly incapable of recognizing this.
Likewise, “ consciousness” always causes human beings to aspire to the
exaet opposite of existential isolation.
What seems extremely important when reading “ Ishiki to honshitsu”
is that Izutsu firmly roots, and develops the basis for, his speculations
in a sense of realism. He detested superficial views of mysticism. What
he asks of his readers is to observe in minute detail the commonsense
worldview that we experience every day and not to disavow it. Rather,
while leading his readers to the world’s depths, he urges them to return
once again from this innermost region to the everyday world in whieli
we live. The following passage truly slates his intellectual attitude.

It is precisely in order to justify the coming into being of an

essence-free, articulated world that Buddhism sets forth the theory
of pratltya-saiuu tpacla . But no matter how subtle this may be w
thcon', in practice it is somehow not without its deficiencies. That is
because we have certain reactions to the things that we actually deal
with in the sensible world that cannot be explained bv the tlicoiy of
pratltra-sainutpclcla alone.44

The meaning of the Buddhist theory of pratltya-sainutpCida (interdepen­

dent origination) is not the issue here. Where we ought to be looking
lies elsewhere. It is Izutsu’s view that our starting point must newer be
from theory; it is only through our “ reactions” to the sensible world
that human beings can proceed to the depths of existence. He strongly
admonishes us against forgetting ordinary “ emotional understandings”
over specific ideologies or dogmas. Continuing the previous sentence,
he w rites, “Among the many schools of Mahayana Buddhism, it is
Zen, I believe, that in practice comes to grips with this issue head-on.
. . . Zen demands that each and every one of us confirms in practice
for ourselves that it is not an essence-initiated articulation of a solid
substance but an essence-free, fluid, ontological articulation.”4S The
point at which “ each and every one of us confirms [this] in practice
for ourselves,” Izutsu believes, is the starting point and also the goal of
ontological investigations.
All things are endowed with “ essence” by “ Being,” the transcen­
dental Universal, and become “ beings.” What causes a cup to appear
before someone’s eves is the working of “ Being,” but it is because that
person senses the “ essence” of cup that s/he recognizes a “ being” as a
cup. As we saw in the discussion of Nausea , “ essence” is, as it were,
the covering that is indispensable for our understanding of “ Being.”
Rather than concealing something, it is the basic infrastructure that
makes human life what it is. Because “ essences” exist, people are able
to recognize things, interact with other people and live their everyday
lives. “ Ksscncc” is the self-evident truth that “ distinguishes a thing (a
flower, for instance) from all other things and makes it what it indisput­
ably is.”46 Consequently, the same number of “ essences” exist as there
arc beings. Mountains, rivers, plants, flowers, valleys, lakes, oceans,
people — each has its own “ essence.” T he world is partitioned off into
countless “ essences.” On the other hand, “ essence” conforms to the
cultural framework within which it is generated; it is complexly inter­
twined with the multilavered consciousnesses of countless men and
women and precipitated out into history. A certain thing appears in
the sensible world as the result of the existential experience of a sage, a
mystic or a poet; it takes shape as art or philosophy or religion, etc., and
is passed on to other people.
It is this unceasing activity of the human race that Toshihiko
Izutsu attempts to bring back to life in the present time through “ syn­
chronic structuralization.” This attempt is nothing less than laving the
groundw ork for the self-manifestation of the Idea of Oriental spiritu­
ality, which has been dispersed among countless different cultures. It
resembles restoring a single book by bringing together scattered scraps
of paper. T h e “ essence” that Izutsu is dealing w ith is not limited to
things; nor is it confined to visible, material existence. T he principle
behind the generation of “ essence” w'orks the same w'av for invisible
concepts and spiritual realities. If it did not, “ how could w'e explain
the overwhelming sense of reality in an esoteric Buddhist mandala,”
which consists of images alone?47 Even the images that float up in our
consciousness, Izutsu says, are “ essences.”
Although there have been many psychologists who have investi­
gated the reality of images, few' have called them “ essences” having
the same sense of reality as a single flower. If we regard the evil spirits
of mountains and rivers depicted in a mandala as nothing more than
symbols, Izutsu’s study w'ould probably make no sense. “ It is, rather, the
things of what w e call the real w'orld that are merely shadow'-like beings,
the shadows of shadow's,” he writes, referring to Suhraw'ardl’s theory of
images. “T h e true w eight of existence is in the ‘metaphor.’”46 There
have been modern philosophers w'ho treat images as real, but has there
ever been anyone like Izutsu who perceived them as “ essences,” the
ground of reality? In the view that the Tathagata and Bodhisattvas in
mandala arc symbols and do not really exist, but are only “ symbols,”
Toshihiko Izulsu sees (lie embrittlement of the modern mind. A “ sym­
bol,” rather, is the passageway by which W O R D manifests itself in the
phenomenal world. A “symbol” expressly indicates that behind it exists
an invisible something. It is the “ metaphor” that is the reality, says
Izutsu. How is it possible to doubt the reality of Bodhisattvas? “They
materialize before our eyes and in the inner parts of ourselves. Tlicv
appear only to those who have eyes to see them.”49
After mandala, Izutsu deals with “archetypes,” the world of images,
as part of bis treatment of the reality' of “ essences.” Though it is a study
of archetypes, be does not discuss specific archetypes here such as
what Jung calls aninui, animus, the wise old man or the Cheat Mother.
Instead, the context in which Izutsu treats this technical term is the /
Ching. He sees that the proeess by w hich W O R D expands itself and
gives birth to meaning is graphically found in the eight divination signs
of the I Ching , and notes that myths have been imprinted into each
of them. W O R D is intrinsically latent in myth and poetry. Mvthopoe-
sis, lie argues, is not just a distinguishing feature of W O R D , hut rather
its fundamental characteristic and true nature. Myths are not merely
made-up stories. They are a form of self-manifestation by the Transcen­
dent. Human beings do not fabricate myths. Transeendenta i Pilenom-
ena ehoose the “archetypes” known as myths.
Archety pes are mental and spiritual patterns that, independently of
the individual unconscious, determine the ontological infrastructure of
a community' or a culture. We can think of archetypes as analogous in
their function to what Ibn ‘Arab! described as “ permanent archetypes”
or “ fixed entities” (ayan thabitah), which ontologicallv exist midway
between the Absolute and the w'orld of sensible things.s° Izutsu counts
them as a kind of “ essence” and recognizes their reality'. Arehety'pes
are deeply connected to the “ cultural framew'ork” that fundamen­
tally' ordains the depth structure of a person’s consciousness, and they
achieve their unique development in a community'. “ In other w'ords,
it is impossible for them [arehety'pes| to have universality in the sense
of surmounting regional and historical differences and being com ­
mon to all ethnicities or to the human race as a w'hole.” ^1 “There is
no such thing as an ‘archetype’ endowed with a universality shared by
the entire human race. Both individual ‘archetypes’ and the systems in
which they mutually materialize differ from culture to culture.” 52 Cer-
shom Scholcm once asked, “Why don’t [Buddhists] see Christ or the
Madonna in their meditative visions?” Converselv, Izutsu asks, “ Why
don’t images of Tathagata or Boddhisatvas or the various deities of the
Shingon mandala ever appear in the contemplative consciousness of
Christians?” 55 In contrast to the unitv that, as we saw earlier, drew the
attention of the Traditionalist school, Izutsu tries to find meaning in
the differences among “ essences.”

In order to grasp the true nature of “ consciousness,” Izutsu believes,

“ We must push on to the point at which consciousness goes beyond
the nature of consciousness, i.c. to the point at which consciousness
ceases to be consciousness.” 54 T he same logic is applied to the pursuit
of “ essence.” “ Essence” must be dealt with up to the point at which it
separates from essentiality and ceases to be essence. At the instant that
our “ consciousness” perceives “ essence,” “Such and such a thing exists
in it, a mountain or a river, for instance,” Izutsu writes.55 If we accept
this statement, then, if it were not for the fact that our depth conscious­
ness grasps a thing, not onlv would we have no true sense of that thing’s
reality, the thing itself would not even exist. There arc levels of con­
sciousness. “ Essence” changes shape depending on its position on the
ladder of consciousness. Or, it would be fair to say, Being appears in
response to consciousness.
T h e ultimate state of consciousness that Izutsu deals with here
is not the one that comprises the consciousness we personally expe­
rience, or the unconscious that psychoanalysis regards as a catcgorv.
Izutsu created the expression W O R D (W f W kotoha) as a technical
term that transcends language and at times even signifies the Ultimate,
but, on one occasion onlv in “ Ishiki to honshitsu,” he wrote kokoro
^ n , mind) as another name for it. “ Used in this context, ‘attachment’
(ushin, 'fEE) and ‘no-mind’ (mushin, are not synonyms. There is a
M IN D in which ‘attachment’ and ‘no-mind’ eaeh come into being on
different dimensions.” 56 As this indicates, it is xMIND that is the rcalitv
in which “ consciousness goes beyond the nature of consciousness,” but
a full-scale treatment of this idea would have to await the discussion of
shin bU), the conscious Transcendent, in what would become his final
book, Ishiki no keijijogaku: “Dai jo kishinron” no tetsugaku (1993; Meta­
physics of consciousness: 'The philosopliv of the /Wakening of Faith in
the Mahayana ).” “ Being is W O R D ,” Izutsu had said, summing up his
thought; he began to deal with the possibility that Being might also be
M IND . *

In Oriental philosopliv, cognition is a complex, multilayered inter­

weaving of consciousness and existence. Thus, in the process of pur­
suing the structure of this interweaving, human beings are inevitably
forced to confront the question of the reality of “essence.”^s

This passage is found in what is virtually the last sentence of “ Ishiki

to honshitsu.” It is both a conclusion and a starting point. “ Kxistence”
here is not “ cxistcnts.” It is another name for the absolutely Transcen­
dent, what Ibn ‘Arab! calls “ Being.”

Izutsu was extremely cautious about using the technical term

“ unconscious,” which had rapidly become popular after the birth of
psychoanalysis. Or, rather, he seems to have regarded the careless use
of this word as almost taboo. It is not that he thought lightly of Freud
and Jung; indeed, he was someone who responded sensitively to the
contributions made by the founder of psychoanalysis and his heretical
successor and to the questions each had raised. But he had absolutely
no use for the false image of the “ unconscious” that is prevalent today.
“ Consciousness” is deep, broad and chaotic and defies theoretical con­
trol. All that human beings are permitted to do is to seriously observe
its dynamism and hypothesize about its structure; we experience only
a part of it. There should be no doubt about the reality of “ conscious­
ness,” but that does not mean there is a monster called the unconscious
lurking beneath it. T h e determinant “ unconscious” is unnecessary;
“ consciousness” is strange enough as it is.

kike a bottomless swamp, human consciousness is a weird thing, a

world where mysterious matters dwell. No one really know's what lies
hidden in its depths. Nor can anyone predict what will suddenly rise
up from it/;
“ Consciousness is assumed tah av c a two-layered structure, superficial
and deep,” I/uitsu writes,60 but this distinction is merely for the sake of
convenience. It is not his intention to divide consciousness into two;
his aim is to endow the field that he calls the “ middle space of con­
sciousness” — the “ M -realm ” or “ A/-region” — with structural reality.
Izutsu attempts to lead the reader to this intermediary region that con­
nects the surface-level of consciousness with its depths.
Diagram 1 is a structural
model of consciousness in
“ Ishiki to honshitsu.”6'A is the
surface consciousness; A/, B
and C indicate the realms of
depth consciousness. The AJ
of the A/-realm is perhaps an
abbreviation for “ middle,”
or, considered as the field
in which meaning is horn,
it could conceivably stand
for “ meaning.” This is also
the location of the nnindus
imaginalis mentioned ear­
lier that Corbin described.
But, above all, we perhaps
ought to detect the strong
influence of Leo Weisgcr-
Diagram i: Structural model of consciousness
her here. As wc saw earlier, S o u r c e : I s l u k i to h o n s h i t s u , I I C 6: i~S.
for Weisgerber, language
itself was nothing less than
something situated “ between” us and reality. Language determines the
structure of culture. In other words, the sprcichliche Z wischemvelt is also
a geistliche Z wischemvelt. Just as there are phenomena that exist onlv in
the mind, there are phenomena that exist onlv in particular languages,
as we saw in the ease of the constellation Orion. For Japanese, a crow
is associated with ill-omened events, hut, in the Old Testament, crows
are the companions of the prophet Flijah. Something similar probably
holds true for other symbols of good and had fortune in everyday life.

2"S
But that docs not mean that they ought to be regarded as nothing more
than symbolism. Conversely, since it is impossible for 11s to be free of
language and culture, we cannot readily escape from the world structure
thev impose.
Above and bevond being merely a theoretical hypothesis, the
A/-realm was an existential region for Izutsu. “The theory of Ideas has
to be preceded by the experience of Ideas”62—that statement in Shinpi
tetsiigciku did not just apply to the true nature of Plato’s Ideas alone;
it would be fair to think that this one sentence expressed l/,utsu’s own
article of faith: When dealing with basic issues, existential experience
always takes precedence. Indeed, it is a characteristic of Toshihiko
Izutsu that he would only delve deeply into what he had experienced
existentially.

The Mystic Philosophy of WORD

Even the word “ meaning,” when Toshihiko Izutsu uses it, becomes a
uniquely personal, technical term that is not limited to the denotative
content of a word, sentence or phenomena. “ Meaning” is the appear­
ance of Being as it emerges from chaos; it is the “ face” of beings. It is
individual entities, no two of which are alike.
Words are bodies of energy without any fixed form. It is not the ease
that “ meaning” is produced when a word comes into being; “ mean­
ing” seeks words, Izutsu belieyes. In short, “ meaning” is the matrix of
words, not the other wav around. Izutsu perceives W O R D as articu­
lating meaning. W O R D is synonymous with “ primal, absolute, unar-
tieulated reality,” the basis of all things.6' In short, Izutsu believes that
W O R D gives rise to all things. Our usual understanding is that a flower
exists, and so the word “ flower” is born. But lzutsu’s statement con­
fronts 11s with a truth that is the exact opposite of this. If we take Izutsu
at his word, a flower is born after being formed in the “ mold” of the
“ meaning” of flower. In a world perceived bv ordinary consciousness,
i.e. surface consciousness, things appear to be generated in the order
of phenomenon -> word -> meaning. A phenomenon comes first; words
and meaning follow. A word is a sign denoting a thing. Over time, the
sign becomes endowed with meaning. If a phenomenon does not exist,
there is no word to designate jt. If a word does not exist, no meaning
can be produced. That undoubtedly is what is generally thought.
“ In the instant that a linguistic sign loses its semantic function, it loses
its vitality’ as a sign and becomes a dead thing,” Izutsu writes.64 “ Meaning”
is life itself. A phenomenon may exist in the surface consciousness, but in
the world of depth consciousness it begins with meaning. The chain of
phenomenon -> word -> meaning, Izutsu says, is retroactively reversed. The
Yogaeara school of Buddhist thought developed its own unique semantic
theory of ontologv/eonseiousness. It calls semantic entities bija or “ seeds”
and discusses the world of Being using the metaphor of a tree. Just as a
seed sprouts, sends forth leaves, and becomes a tree, all things unfold
and evolve and appear in the sensible world in a tree-like manner. The
Yogaeara school called the contact point between reality and chaos in the
world of consciousness alaya-vijnana or the Storehouse Consciousness.
Seed is meaning, Izutsu says. He is not simply following or rehash­
ing Yogaeara thought. He, too, is participating in that tradition. For
him, inheriting a tradition, in the true sense of the word, is synony­
mous with deepening it. “ Borrowing ideas from Yogaeara philosophy,
I symbolize this [the linguistic u/r/vcz-consciousncss] as the place in
which semantic bija implicitly exist in a potential state characteristic
of seeds.” 65 He calls the place deep within the a Iay a-vij nan a where
W O R D gives birth to meaning “ linguistic c7/c/vc/-consciousness” and
attributes a special reality to it. When he encountered the reality that
be called the linguistic alava -consciousness and endowed it with a
logical framework, Izutsu ceased to be an inheritor of the Oriental
philosophic tradition and assumed the role of innovator. T h e linguis­
tic <7/c/vu-conseiousness is located deep in the i\/-realm mentioned
earlier. By this term, Izutsu expressly describes the path in the depths
of consciousness, hidden from psychoanalysts, that links the world to
Being. He is attempting to go even further bevond the unconscious in
psychology or alaya-vijnana in Yogaeara, which seemed to have dealt
exhaustively with the innermost recesses of consciousness, and als to
enter one step past what Corbin calls the “ imaginal” realm.
The poets who appear in “ Ishiki to honshitsu” are, as Izutsu points
out, “alchemists of W O R D ,” as well as solitary investigators w ho follow’
the path of linguistic a lava-consciousness. Mallarme speaks of his own
writing of poetry in terms of a “ religions discipline,” l/.ntsn writes. “ It
is very interesting that he compares it to the activity of a monk quietly
seeking Cod deep within a cloister.”66 “ The language of iVlallarmc, the
poet (artist of WORD) who performs this metaphysical alchcmv, is no
longer the ordinary Icmgcige that people use for communication; he has
killed the thing at the level of empirical existence and transferred it to
the level of eternal reality; there |it becomes| Je Verbe [absolute lan­
guage |, w hich existentially evokes the 'essence’ of that thing.”6- Abso­
lute language —W O R D , Je Verbe — manifests itself; this means that
words as ordinary language fall aw'ay. In short, W ORD, which is Being,
emerges from language as “ essence.” The instant that W O R D vigor­
ously intervenes in the sensible wrorld, w'e become aware that the world
is a multilavcrcd,
^ ■ multidimensional rcalitv.
.
On occasion, Izutsu uses the expression “ the karma of meaning.'”6S
Karma for him is not an evil fate attendant on the life of an individual.
Does karma narrow or limit a person’s life? Instead of being an imped­
iment, doesn’t it make us awxire of something that we must change,
deepen or free ourselves from? Recall the sentence at the beginning
of Ishiki to honshitsu cited earlier: “The problem o f ‘essence,’ under
various guises and various names, has ahvavs dominated the specula­
tions of thinkers throughout the history of Western philosophy.” Karma,
accumulated in “ cultural universals,” determines meaning, and this
forms the cultural infrastructure of human beings. Just as people’s lives
are at stake depending on how' thev live out their karma, there is also a
karma in culture and spirituality respectively. In culture, “ the karma of
meaning” resides in its analogical function. It is an invisible reality that
governs spiritual communities and cultures as a w'holc.
When referring to the creativity of Toshihiko Izutsu, people call
attention to the expression “ linguistic c7/c/yc/-eonseiousness.” To be
sure, this technical term is unique to Izutsu, and in this one term, it
is possible to perceive signs of speculation that is backed up both bv
the traditional thought of the East and the West as w ell as bv mod­
ern philosophy of language. But the rcalitv that he wras pursuing,
A/[/-eonseiousness, lies beyond it. I le calls this the “ zero point” of the
w'orld w'lierc Being and consciousness are undifferentiated. Linguistic
clJaya-consciousncss elucidates the reality of the zero point. That point
is nothing other than the origin of a “ depth-consciousness philosophy
of language” in Izutsu,69 the origin of a WORD-like world.
“ Ishiki to honshitsu” was serialized in eight installments, but when
it wras published in book form, it was divided into twelve chapters.
There wrere, of course, additions and revisions, but, in terms of line of
thought, there do not appear to be any major changes. There was one
exception, however — the w ord “ W O R D .” At the time of serialization,
the w'ord “W O R D ,” even w'hcn it had special connotations, was w'ritten
out in characters (WH), but when the book came out, all of these were
changed to “W O R D ” in katakanci h s'*). Izutsu had begun making a
clear distinction between “ W O R D ” and “ word” or “ language” during
serialization, at the time of the seventh installment. T h e encounter
with the word “ W O R D ” w'as undoubtedly an unexpected experience
even for the author himself.
To read “ Ishiki to honshitsu” is nothing less than to witness at first­
hand the spiritual drama taking place in Toshihiko Izutsu as “ word”
metamorphoses into “ W O R D , ” and then “ primordial W O R D , ” i.e.
Being. C o m m e n tin g on Mallarme, he wTotc that W O R D “ existen­
tially evokes ‘essence.’” 70 Although w'ords arc confined to expressing
“ essence,” W O R D creatively calls things forth out of the sea of abso­
lute Nothingness. In short, the mvsterv of W O R D is nothing less than
“ the dynamic force of ontological articulation.”"1 But Izutsu uses the
meaning of W O R D in a multilayered way. When he says, “ Being is
W O R D ,” W O R D is a transcendental reality, but if “ Being” or “ G o d ”
w'ere substituted for all occurrences of W O R D in “ Ishiki to honshitsu,”
this stud\Tw'ould fall apart. When, in regard to Nausea, he says that “ if
W O R D s fall away and ‘essence’ falls away, inevitably all that is left is
Being itself without any fissures whatsoever,”-2 W O R D s in this context
arc beings; they are not the same as Being. Indeed, semantieallv, the
usage here comes close to “ essence.”
Moreover, while originally profoundly connected to words and
spoken or written language, Izutsu’s W O R D possesses a dynamism
that attempts to go beyond them. When wre get to the tenth section of
Ishiki to honshitsu, the word “ W O R D ” rapidly assumes the aspect of
the Ultimate. Alluding to Kukai (774-835), the founder of the Shin-
gon school of Buddhism, and to the Jewish mvsticism of the Oabablah,
lie develops a “ dcpth-eonsciousness pliilosopliv of language” : “ the
W'ORD of Cod —or, more accurately, the W O R D that is God.”-' God
and W O R D exist inseparably, Izutsu asserts. It is this section that epit­
omizes the thought of Toshihiko Izutsu, which began with words and
converged on W O R D ; it is nothing less than the philosophical Book
Lambda of Isliiki to honshitsu.
Kukai’s tantric Buddhism, i.c. Shingon esotericism, too, was an
esoteric religious community of W O R D , where W O R D is regarded
as “ the beginning of all things and their outcome.” "4 The word “ Shin­
gon” (KHf; lit. “ true language” ) signifies “ the primordial W O RD, one
that has not vet been articulated at all, the absolutely uuarticulated
W'ORD. ”"s In short, the Shingon school can be thought of as a spiritu­
ality which explains that the primal reality of the world is WORD.

Kukai gives shape to the ultimate and primordial state of Being itself
(the dharma body] as the \airoeana-Buddha —or, to he more pre­
cise, the primordial state of Being manifests itself in Kukai’s depth
consciousness as the image of the \ airoeana-Buddha. Accordingly,
for Kukai, everything in the world of Being is ultimately and primor-
diallv the WORD of the \ airoeana-Buddha. In short, all things are
deep-level linguistic phenomena. 6

Wdicn Izutsu wrote that “ everything in the world of Being is ultimately

and primordiallv the W O R D of the Yairocana-Buddha,” he might well
have continued, as he had w'hcn discussing the Oabbalah, and added
“ — or, more accurately, the W O R D that is the Vairocana-Buddha.”
Hosshin ('/£#), the “ dharma bod}’,” is the “ utmost primal W O R D ” that
subsumes all things. " In other words, it is “ the ‘recondite meaning’ of
all Being, the meaning of the meaning of beings.”"s f or Izutsu, Kukai
was the first and cpiitc possibly the loftiest “ depth-consciousness philos­
opher of language” in japan.
Lven after checking w'ith Mrs Izutsu and others close to him, I have
been unable to discover w’hcn Izutsu encountered Kukai, except that
it was relatively late. There is no evidence that Izutsu discussed Kukai
at Lranos. WTcn he dealt w’ith mandala there, he only mentioned the
Shingon school once.79 Judging from one passage in “ Isliiki to hon-
sliitsu,” Izutsu probably encountered Kukai’s concept of the “ primordial
state of one’s mind” (jishin nogentev, after he had used the
technical term “ linguistic d/c/yd-consciousness.” Pure semantic forms,
he writes, arc those in which “ the energy of what Kukai calls the ‘primor­
dial state of one’s mind’ has been primarily articulated through the net-
like structure at the linguistic base of the depth consciousness, which
I have called in this essav the ‘linguistic d/dvd-consciousncss.’ And the
primordial state of consciousness [is] precisely the primordial state of
Being.”80 The encounter with Kukai seems to have taken place not very
long after the writing of “ Ishiki to honshitsu,” or it mav have occurred
while he was still writing it. The time was presumably already ripe for
such an encounter. Didn’t Izutsu read Kukai as a way of confirming his
own intellectual roots? It is not hard to imagine Izutsu’s astonishment
when he realized that, more than 1000 years earlier, there had been a
Japanese who had intellectually structuralizcd the metaphysical hori­
zons that had been opened up by Ibn ‘Arab! and Chuang-tzu.
It was in a lecture on Kukai and W O R D , that Izutsu spoke the
sentence “ Being is W O R D .”81 T he following passage speaks of Kukai’s
theory of Being/Consciousness and conveys Izutsu’s shock at encoun­
tering him.

Kukai pursues the process of ontological articulation deeper and

deeper. He goes against the stream—proceeding in the opposite
direction from the process whereby what occurs in the depths of
consciousness arrives at the surface level and then appears in this
world —until he finally arrives at the origins of consciousness, until
he reaches the “primordial state of one’s mind,” which he describes
(in the fujushinron [Treatise on the Ten Stages of the Development of
Mind]) as “making an exhaustive study and awakening to the primor­
dial state of one’s mind.”82

Izutsu uses the English term “ zero point” to express Kukai’s “ primor­
dial state ot one’s mind,” indicating its contemporaneity. In the essav
based on the lecture, he makes a distinction between the “ zero point of
consciousness” and the “ zero point of Being,” but lie also uses the term
the “ zero point of the entire world of Being,” suggesting that the attrib­
utive use of “ of consciousness” and “of Being” does not mean that each
exists separately but rather that they are technical terms or structural
articulations in his ontology and theory of consciousness. Not onl\
arc “ consciousness” and “ Being” inseparable at the “ zero point” — the
place where “ consciousness” and “ Being” meet and the point at which
they begin to he differentiated — reality is, rather, another name for
the interpenetrating unity of the two. In short, at the instant that “ con­
sciousness” grasps meaning, the articulation of beings occurs. Seman­
tic articulation may well be said to be ontological articulation itself.
We know', of course, that not all things that are thought exist in
the sensible world. The word “ consciousness” here is not the surface
consciousness of indiuidual human beings. It is an cuent that occurs in
the deepest depths of depth consciousness. “ Ontological articulation,
in fact, occurs at a tar, far deeper place in consciousness. The artic­
ulation of things that we sec on the surface of superficial conscious­
ness is merely the result of the primary articulation in the deep lcucl
consciousness, or a secondary dcuclopment thcrcof.” s' If the starting
point of ontological articulation docs not occur in the consciousness
that human beings are normally aware of, it is impossible to deal with
it in language. Izutsu docs not try to do so. lie does try, to the best
of his ability, to evoke the world “ beyond” it. Just as tbe existence of
the “ linguistic c7/c/vc/-consciousncss” hints at something “ beyond” it,
Izutsu attempts to make a thorough investigation of it up to “ the very
first point in the process of the self-manifestation of W O R D at which
the ‘recondite meaning’ comes in direct contact with the linguistic
c7/c/v<:/-eonsciousness, the first point at which W O R D starts to movc."^
What Izutsu turns his attention to is the letter A in Shingon esoteric
Buddhism. The letter A is located at the beginning of all languages.
The opening to “ Being” and “ consciousness” at the zero point is found
there. “The sound a is the first sound to come out of the mouth of the
Yairocana-Buddha. And, together with this first sound, consciousness
is horn, and the entire world of Being begins to appear.”Sc; The Vairo-
cana-Buddha hears the sound a with his own cars. Immediately, con­
sciousness occurs there, and beings are actually and fully manifested.
What Izutsu is dealing with in “ Ishiki to honshitsu” is not the genesis of
language but the origin of W ORD. This experiment invites the reader
into a prelinguistie world, a world before the birth of language. There,
human beings, bereft of the means of thinking, speaking or expressing.
can onlv stand dazed and motionless. It is here that people truly “ see”
*^
the world.
As can be sensed From the terms “ depth-consciousness philosophy
of language” and “ linguistic c7/cn’c/-eonseiousness,” Izutsu’s theory of
W O R D goes beyond the existing framework of linguistic philosophy
and succeeds in deepening his own theory of consciousness. These
efforts would continue right up until his last work, Ishiki no keijijogaku.
During this process, the appearance of Ilavao Kawai as a reader was
perhaps not accidental. The man who made huge contributions to Jap­
anese depth psychology at both the practical and intellectual levels had
an enormous interest in Ishiki to honshitsu.
 The Philosophy of Mind

Buddhism and Depth Psychology:

The Unconscious and A/u-consciousncss
SM Ki to (1983; Consciousness and essence) introduced
HOS'SHITSU

J new readers to Toshihiko Izutsu. One of them was Hayao Kawai,

wlio would later participate in Kranos as, in a way, Izutsu’s successor.
The serialized version of “ Ishiki to honshitsu” “ made mv heart leap
as I read it,” Kawai wrote in his obituary of Izutsu for the Yomiuri
Shimbun. Later in a semi-autobiographieal interview, Kawai said that,
although it was not his practice to read the same book again, he reread
Ishiki to honshitsu several times. “ Ishiki to honshitsu was an extremely
important book for me,” he stated, adding that he was dependent on
Izutsu for the expression “ depth consciousness.”1 Though the comment
ma\r seem restrained, the statement that he would gladly speak a dozen
times on the themes of Ishiki to honshitsu conx’evs the extremely strong
impact that he felt.
That Kawai, an authority on “ consciousness,” was profoundly
moved bv Izutsu’s treatment of “ depth consciousness,” and the signif­
icance of that fact, are probably worth considering. It was a notewor­
thy e\rent, I beliexe, not only for any discussion of I lavao Kawai the
thinker, but also for depth psychology in Japan, which would mark a
major turning point with his arrival on the scene. It was also a portent
that depth psychology would go beyond being the study of mental
states and become an independent discipline as the science of “ the psy­
che” in the true sense. Research within a field adyanccs that field, but,
for a fundamental deepening to occur, it must confront, or engage in
a dialogue with, other disciplines. This is true not only for scholarship
but for religion and the arts as well. T he meeting between Izutsu and
Kaw'ai had a significance that \ycnt w'cll bevond simply being an event
in their respective personal histories.
As wc saw' earlier, the serialization of “ Ishiki to honshitsu" began in
June 1980 and was completed in February 1982; the book version came
out the following year in 1983. A glance at the chronology of Kaw'ai’s
life show's that this corresponds exactly w'ith the period in which Kawai
the psychologist moved beyond that sphere and completed the transfor­
mation into Kawai the thinker. Kaw'ai cultivated dialogues not just with
Izutsu but with people in other fields including Shusaku Fndo and the
philosopher Yujiro Nakamura (1925- ). T he statement by Kawai him­
self that the encounter with Izutsu greatly influenced this transforma­
tion is found in Kcnvcii Hayao: shinri ryohoka no tanjo (Havao Kaw'ai:
The genesis of a psychotherapist) bv Nobukazu Otsuka, w'ho deepened
his acquaintance with Kawai while w orking at the publishing company,
Iw'anami Shoten, of w'hich he later became president.2 The following is
from a personal communication that Kawai sent to Otsuka.

I’ve been practicing psychotherapy for a long time, but recently,

thanks to Professor [Toshihiko] Izutsu, I finally feel that the philo­
sophical background of what I am doing has, to a large extent, become
clear. I’ve been thinking of putting particular emphasis on this point
in my writing. I have the feeling that, as philosophical background,
I Ilia Yen philosophy, which has been clarified by Professor Izutsu —
and Mvoe, too —fits right in with what I am doing.

This letter w'as sent in January 1987; Kaw'ai’s book on the Buddhist
priest Mvoe (1173-1232) was published in April of that year, so it was
precisely around the time that he was nearing the completion of that
work." This book, which centers on a dream diary w'ritten bv Mvoe,
a priest of the Kegon school (the Japanese equivalent of l l ua Yen),
deals with the career of this unique mind and the development of his
extremely self-aware dcpth-psvchologv activities. Wlicn discussing the
supernatural phenomena that Mvde experienced, Kawai refers not
onlv to Jung’s svnchronicity but even to Swedenborg. As this indicates,
Kawai tries to remove the trappings of priesthood, religious sect and
historical period and invite Mvde as an individual thinker and practi­
tioner onto the stage of ideas.
“There is a wooden plaque made of Zclkova hanging in kdzanji,”
writes Kawaid On it Myoe recorded the regulations governing dailv
monastic life at Kdzanji, the temple in the mountains outside of Kyoto
that he had founded in 1206, and at the beginning he waotc the phrase
Arubekivou'ci, “As it should be.” This is not a statement that sets a high
value on nature in the sense of “ things as thev are,’’ Kawai notes, but,
rather, it clcarlv reflects M voc’s intention to live existentially, to try to
live only in the here and now, not in or for some previous or future
existence.s For Kawai, Myoe w:as Japan’s first self-aware depth psvchol-
ogist as well as its first existentialist. When dealing with the thought of
Hayao Kawai, this one work cannot be overlooked. Chapter 7, “ Mutual
Interpenetration,” is both a discussion of the ontological boundaries
within the Avatcnnsaka-siitrci, or Garland Sutra, as w'cll as Kawai’s studv
of Toshihiko Izutsu. In it Kawai cites the lecture Izutsu gave at Kranos,
“The Nexus of Ontological Events: A Buddhist View of Reality-,” which
Izutsu later revised and translated into Japanese as “//-// muge/ri-ri nntge:
sonzai kaitai no ato" (The w'orld o f ‘non-hindrance’: After/traccs of onto­
logical deconstruction) and in which he describes the world of Kcgon/
Hu a Yen.6
There are four Domains in Hua Yen, each corresponding to a level
of consciousness, Izutsu says. The shih ( $ ) Domain and the li (*1)
Domain are interchangeable w'ith terms wre have seen before; the former
is the phenomenal w orld of ordinal}7 consciousness, and the latter, the
noumenal, or perhaps wTat wrc might call the pre-phcnomenal world,
i.c. “ the ultimate non-phcnomcnal dimension of reality, in which all
phenomenal things . . . arc reduced to oneness or nothingness.”" There
is also a Domain in which shih and li interpenetrate each other, and
another in wTich shih and shih interpenetrate. In the mutual interpen­
etration of shih and li , li (absolute metaphysical Reality) is “ a univer­
sal and boundless expanse of cosmic energy, . . . homogeneous and
undifferentiated,” that manifests itself in the form of shih, “ seemingly
independent and different entities (different, i.e., ontologieally distinct
from one another) [that] are homogeneously permeated by the same //.”
The Absolute in Hua Yen is k'ung (?£), void, nothingness, sunyatd, but
“ sunyatd, in its hvo fundamental aspects, negative and positive, all-nulli­
fying and all-creating,”s and “ the phenomenal or empirical appearance
of the one absolute Reality in the form of divergent things in the uni­
verse is know'n as hsing ch'i (fY/fS), the arising of the Buddha-Reality.9
T h e field in v'hieh the beings that arc born in this wav from a
single source are able to continue to be separate, individual things
is called the Domain of the interpenetration of shih and shih. If very
empirical thing mutually forms part of every other empirical thing, that
is, they mutually interpenetrate one another, and make up the world.
Th is is what is known in Hua Yen philosophy as viian ch i (MilY), which
corresponds to the Sanskrit term pratltya-samutpcida, i.e. interdepen­
dent origination. These two principles, the arising of the Buddha-Real­
ity and interdependent origination, Izutsu savs, are the basic principles
of the Hua Yen world. What must not be forgotten here is that these
principles are not just external; they include the immanent as well.
When Kawai read this essay, he writes, he understood the real reason
why Myoe sent letters to rocks and islands and w'hy it wras significant that
Myoe recognized the black dog he saw in a dream as another form of
Reality. In the Kegon/Hua Yen world, the principle behind Ibn ‘Arabl’s
theory of the “ unity of existence” is alive in a virtually identical form.
What Izutsu attempted to do in the abovementioned essay is to present a
view' of an ontological v'orld in which these hvo thought systems would
resonate w'ith one another. The reader understands anew not only that
there is a point of contact here behveen Buddhism and Islam, but also
that, already by M voe’s time, Japanese Buddhist thought had risen to a
level at which it could pose problems to the world as a “ philosophy.” Ibn
‘Arab! was born in 1165, Mvoe in 1173; they v'ere literally contemporaries.
During his time at Eranos, w'hat Izutsu, w'ith a strong sense of pur­
pose, was attempting to do could well be called laving the groundwork
that would make it possible to discuss Buddhist thought —Zen, Hua
Yen or Yogacara — on the world stage. In his lectures there he dealt
w'ith Zen, rather than Zen Buddhism, in other w ords, w'ith the dynamic
philosophical system that, since Bodhiclharma in the fifth/sixth eenturx’,
has spread through all parts of the Orient and has been built upon ox er
the course of 1500 years. Other lectures dealt with the Garland Sutra as
a noble intellectual xx'ork that expounds an ontologv of light, and xx'ith
Dogen (1200-1253) as a religious philosopher who dcxelopcd his owai
theory of time. If lie had had the opportunity, Izutsu would probably
have devoted a hook to Kfikai, the philosopher of a higher order of
W ORD. This sense of purpose w'ould continue right up until the end.
1 lis last w'ork was an exploration of the Mahavana Buddhist classic, the
Awakening 0/ Faith in the Mahayana.
On second thought, howex'er, it w'as Kawai, I believe, who was able
to understand Izutsu’s true intentions and was rcadv to take the next
scholarlv leap forward. Kawai saw’ in Izutsu someone who w’as carrying
on the tradition of Oriental philosophy in the true sense. It is not the
author xx'ho brings a w’ork to completion; it is the reader. For Izutsu,
too, there is no doubt that the encounter w ith Kawai was a serendipi­
tous ex'ent.
After his return from Iran, Izutsu started a study group, which
included Havao Kaw'ai and philosophers Shizutcru Ueda (1926- ) and
Yoshihiro Nitta (1929- ), primarilx- to read the philosophy of Kitaro
Nishida. Although Kawai makes x'irtuallv no mention of this studv
group, Nobukazu Otsuka w'rites that he seems to hax'e learned a lot
from it.10 It is 1ikelx7 that Kawai pcrccix’cd in Izutsu’s works a world
beyond the unconscious, one that depth psvchologv had dimlx- grasped
in its field of x’ision but whose contours it had thus far been unable
to clearly make out. Recall the sentence in “ Ishiki to honshitsu” : “We
must push on to the point at w’liich consciousness goes bevond tbc
nature of consciousness, i.c. to the point at which consciousness ceases
to be consciousness.” 11 In passages like this, Kaw'ai probably got a real
sense for “ depth consciousness,” w'hich was a region that psvchologx'
thus far had not yet fathomed. The unconscious, as Jung and Kawai
understand it, is an area that transcends the consciousness of individ­
uals and is connected to the consciousness of a culture or a historical
period. In that sense, Kawai’s perception of consciousness was alrcadv
“ superconscious.” Jung and Kaw'ai seem to haxc arrixed at C o rb in ’s
niunclus imaginalis from a different direction.
 Izutsu assumes that the linguistic cilavci-eonsciousness is even
deeper than the unconseious; it is, he argues, the region in which
“ Being” turns into “ beings.” But, for Izutsu, this is not the bottom of
depth consciousness. T he point at issue vacillates between what Jung
calls the “ cultural uneonscious” and the “ universal u neon sciou s”
(which Izutsu translates as “ eolleetive u ncon seiou s” ), on the one
hand, and the imaginal world, on the other. A “ consciousness that goes
bevond consciousness,” whieb stores up boundless creative energv,
manifests itself in its ultimate reality in depth consciousness. This is
the realitv that Izutsu calls A/u-consciousncss, punning on the Japa­
nese word for “ unconscious” muishiki (Cyclic) and the philosophical
term mu (IS) meaning Nothingness. A/u-consciousness, however, is
not consciousness of Nothingness. As the faet that Izutsu also calls it
“ meta-consciousness” suggests, it is absolute consciousness before
Nothingness manifests itself as “ essence.” 'Thus, A/u-eonsciousness can­
not be consciously grasped.

A theory of consciousness as part of a new Oriental philosophy will

likely be put on a firm footing once efforts have been made to attempt
to restrueturalize consciousness in an integrated manner in a form
that also includes the consciousness that goes beyond consciousness,
the consciousness that is not consciousness. And it is precisely there, I
believe, that the significance of studying Oriental consciousness lies,
especially for a theory of Oriental consciousness.12

When Izutsu writes “ Oriental,” he is implying something real that spans

different dimensions. Similarly, Ah/-eonseiousness, too, docs not simply
indicate the conseious world of human beings alone. It is not a region
that ean be eaught sight of at the height of human aetivitv but, rather,
a place illuminated bv the transcendent w orld. The true nature of con­
sciousness does not beeome d e a r only by dealing with its phenomena
and structure. Anyone wiio attempts to study it must neeessarilv have
the experience of seeing “ consciousness” from bevond consciousness.
Kaw'ai perceived in Izutsu s philosophy the possibility of doing just that.
A/u-conseiousness is transcendental Realitv, but Izutsu docs not
end the diseussion there. He emphasizes the inseparability of ordi­
nary consciousness and Ah/-consciousness: “ It is also an obvious and
undeniable fact that it |A/{/-consciousness | is in an intimate and insepa­
rable organic relationship with consciousness in the ordinary sense, not
to mention that that very fact is also its most remarkable distinguishing
feature for an understanding of consciousness in the yarious traditions
of Oriental thought.” '" Kndowing the invisible entity of transcendental
Reality with a form yisiblc to the phenomenal world is a tradition of
Oriental thought. And the aim of Oriental philosophy, l/.utsu belicycs,
is not to describe the transcendental world; it is nothing less than to
explain in the phenomenal world how7 the transcendental world works
and what it means. What lxutsu treats as the most remarkable, most
immediate and most dynamic form of this is WORD.
In 1983, there was a three-way discussion among lxutsu, Kawai
and American psychologist James Hillman.'4 In it, Kawai saws that,
although his intellectual position is “ Jungian,” he does not necessar­
ily think in Jung’s terms. Given the differences between Kastern and
Western culture, in particular, he says, not only is it impossible to apply
the language of Jungian psychology directly to Japan; it does not even
seem to be the right choice. Bv “ Jungian,” he means Jung’s language
indicating basic attitudes toward the world, including the phenome­
nal world and the w orld of consciousness, he goes on to explain, not
his support for Jung’s methodologies or theories. Moreover, even | u n g
could not escape being a child of his age. There are places where Jung
attempts to express his ideas by modeling them on the so-called natural
sciences. I think w7e ought to be free of such things, he says."5
Kokoro (C3 6 ), the w ord Kawni uses to translate “ psyche,” is an old
Japanese word for “ mind” or “ heart” ; depth psychology is a new disci­
pline. In modern Japan, especially, hardly any of the groundwork had
been laid to talk about this subject in our ow7n language. The period in
w'hieh Kawai began to speak publicly w7as one in w7hich the scholarly
language, as it were, w7as undeveloped. This fact must not he forgotten
w'hen thinking about the intellectual history of Japan and the situa­
tion in w'hieh Kaw'ai found himself. To translate “spiritual being,” he
w'ould sometimes use the Japanese w7ord for “soul” or “ spirit,” tamashii
{Tz&Lw)- This sort of notational convention —w'riting kokoro (CC6) for
“ psyche” and karada {frbtz) for “ body” in kuna rather than in charac­
ters—seems almost natural to us in Japan today, hut, at the time that
Kaw'ai was experimenting with terminology, he was eritieized in eer-
tain quarters for not eonveving the essenee of tamashii as a technical
religious term. Others complained that sueh usage was not sufficiently
scholarly. Although a baptism of fire such as this is unavoidable for
creative thinkers, todav, when we ean view' the situation objectively, his
achievements deserve to be properly appreciated. Alluding to critiques
of Mvoe, Kawai w rites, “ It is the quality of his religious life that war­
rants our attention above and bevond a consideration of his contribu­
tions to Japanese religious history. Paradoxicallv, it is only in this light
that M yoe’s plaee in the history of Buddhism in Japan ean be properlv
appreciated.” 16 Substitute “ attitude toward scholarship” for “ religious
life” and “ history of thought” for “ history of Buddhism,” and this pas­
sage becomes an introduction to Havao Kawai the thinker, himself.
The discovery of teehnieal terms in one’s native language and the
development of them into a metalanguage — a challenge similar to
what Izutsu attempted in “ Ishiki to honshitsu” —was what Kawai put
into praetiee for depth psyehologv. When evaluating others, Izutsu fre­
quently uses expressions such as “ personal,” “ original” and “ existential.”
“ Personal” does not eonnote giving one’s own interpretation to an exist­
ing coneept or idea; one draw's the coneept into one’s owrn bodv, thinks
about it, considers its universality and explores it thoroughlv. “ Origi­
nal” means attempting to speak about an experience or research topic
in one’s owm w'ords. And “ existential,” as Kawai applied it to Mvoe,
indicates an attitude toward life in w’hich one stakes one’s w'hole being
on something here and now’. Although Izutsu left no formal statement
about Kaw'ai, it w;as he who recommended Kaw'ai to Eranos. This faet
elearlv indicates the esteem he felt for him.

James Hillman had w'ritten that “ a new angelology of w'ords” w ill

be indispensable from now' on.1” In their eolloquv, Toshihiko Izutsu
remarked that, even though some eall Hillman a left-w'ing Jungian,
from what Izutsu him self had heard, Hillman w'ent far bevond the
boundaries of the Jungian realm in a conservative sense — indeed,
some might even say he had gone too far.lS As ean be inferred from the
phrase an “ angelology of words,” Hillman docs not fit into the categorv
of depth psychologist.
 After the death of Corbin, fora time, Izutsu and 1 lillman led Eranos.
Just as Krend had formed a school and Jung had broken awav from it
and developed his own, Hillman did not confine himself to the Jnngian
school but went his own independent way. From this we can detect an
attitude toward scholarship and a stance as a thinker that goes bevond
mere temperament. Like 1 lillman, Izutsu disliked being part of a group.
Although Izutsu had great respect for Shinobu Orikuchi, he did not
enter his coterie while at Keio but attached himself to Junzaburd Nishi-
waki instead. His inherent dislike of groups mav also have influenced the
strong sense of incompatibilitv that Izutsu felt toward the Traditionalist
school. Although schools of thought are formed by history, scholarship
itself, Izutsu believed, “ must be a solitary activity.” Hillman and Izutsu
were direetlv acquainted with one another, hut even setting that fact
aside, Hillman’s influence on Izutsu rivaled or surpassed that of Jung.
As Izutsu savs in their three-wav conversation, meeting Hillman was a
turning point that deepened his interest in Jung and Jnngian psvehologv.
Although no source is cited in “ lshiki to honshitsu,” where the
phrase occurs,'9 I lillman referred to an “ angelology of words” in a book
entitled Re-visioning Psychology, based on a series of lectures he had
given. In the book itself, Hillman bardlv ever uses the technical term
“ re-visioning” in its title, but if a reader misunderstands tbe original
meaning of “ vision” there, s/he will lose sight of the issues that Hill­
man is raising. Every time I read this work, I recall a passage in Kanso
(Impressions), Hideo Kobavashi’s study of Bergson.

At this point, presumably, the double meaning that Bergson applied

to the aet of seeing will already be clear. In the past, theologians used
the word “vision” in the sense of “seeing God,” i.c. the beatific vision,
but even though modern science has restricted the same word to the
meaning of “the sense of sight,” it has been unable to get rid ot the
old connotations that this word has. That is because the living word
has put down roots in reality.20
“ Vision” is tbe aet of looking at the noumenal world. We have already
observed that “seeing” is the most primal form of metaphysical activity.
What Hillman explores throughout this work is the contact with the
noumenal world, which subsumes tbe phenomenal world.
 Izutsu translated “ words” in “ a new angelology of words” using his
technical term 3 h A (kotobci), W O R D . What Hillman passionately
discussed in Re-visioning Psychology is words as angels rather than “ the
angel aspect of the word.” “ In short, w hat I Iilhnan is trying to say is that
there is an ‘angel aspect’ to WORDs; to put it another w'av, all wfords have
a unique semantic side, w'hich, in addition to the ordinary general sense
that each of them has, evokes other-dimensional images. It is not only
a w'ord like ‘angel’ that, from the outset, signifies an other-dimensional
being; even words that signify quite eommonplacc things like ‘tree’ or
‘mountain’ or ‘flower’ also [have| the semantic potential to metamor­
phose into other-dimensional images.”21 Izutsu interprets this semantic
side to be what Hillman “ ealls ‘the angel aspeet of the word.’” If “ the
semantic potential [of words] to metamorphose into other-dimensional
images” is their “ angel aspect,” then, “ the meanings that metamorphose
into other-dimensional images” are the angels themselves. Carried to
its logical conclusion, it would presumably beeome “ W O R D which
is angel,” which might be more easily understood existentially as the
expression “W O R D as angel.” Latent in Izutsu’s eomment is the under­
standing that angels are in an inseparable relation with the W O R D
w'hieh is Lord, namely the Transcendent. Izutsu “ reads” Hillman as
dealing not w'ith language but w ith Being as transcendental Reality.
To speak of an “ angelology” is nothing less than to acknowledge
the existence of angels. Hillman probably did not doubt the reality of
angels, and Izutsu, w'ho discusses the subject, presumably didn’t either.
As in the ease of Tathagatas and Bodhisattvas, angels, too, are arche­
types, “ essences.” Angels are the w ill of God. T he thoughts of the Tran­
scendent manifest themselves in the world along w'ith the “ essences”
known as angels.

The “ Readings” of Writers

After Ishiki to honshitsu , there wrere w'riters who responded strongly

to Toshihiko Izutsu. Those wTo come to mind are not only Shusaku
Kudo, Takako Takahashi, Shotaro Yasuoka and other writers with elosc
ties to Catholicism mentioned earlier, but also Keizo I lino, Keizaburo
Maruyama, Ryotaro Shiba and Kenzaburo Oc.
 Izutsu’s colloquy with Sliiba entitled “ Nijisseikimatsu no yami to
hikari” (Darkness and light at the end of the twentieth century) was
the last one he ever took part in, his final opportunity to present hi ni­
sei t before the public.22 The shock of his sudden and untimely death
is emotionally described in Sh ib a’s tribute “Arabesque” — the title
is taken from that of a noyel written by Izutsu’s wife, ToyokoT What
makes their colloquy interesting is that in it Izutsu personally relates
prcyiously untold historical details about himself, such as his relation­
ships with Ibrahim, Musa and Sliumei Okawa that were alluded to ear­
lier, and the faet that he had made serious attempts at a semantics of
myika. But e\en more noteworthy j
is the liycly* way* in which he talks to
noyclist Shiba about the boundaries between the historical world and
the synchronic world that seethed within him. 'The colloquy oyerflows
with passion as he attempts to demolish certain historical and cultural
pcrspcctiycs that had become rccciycd opinion.
The conycrsation between the noyclist w ho wrote Kukai no fukei
(Kukai’s landscape)24 and the philosopher who dealt with the philoso­
phy of language in Shingon esoteric Buddhism takes an extremely inter­
esting turn in regard to the course of Kukai’s life. When Izutsu says that
Kukai was familiar with the philosophy of the Ncoplatonist Plotinus,
Shiba responds by raising the possibility' that Kukai was aware of Chris­
tianity, and Izutsu emphatically agrees. “ Not only does a metonymic
relationship hold true between Platonism and the Shingon esotericism
of Kukai in terms of their thought structures, but I think the latter is,
in Piet, historically related to Greek thought,” Izutsu says.25 Metonymy
is a rhetorical term indicating that a strong association exists between
two parallel things. What “ a metonymic relationship in terms of their
thought structures” means is that, although, historically, there was no
direct intellectual exchange between Kukai and Plotinus, there is a
remarkable structural agreement in their points of yie\y. Izutzu wants
to oyerturn that commonly held yiew, howeyer; he bclieycs that the two
thought systems actually interacted with one another in the Chinese
capital city7of C h ’ang-an during the eighth and ninth centuries.
When the Japanese translation of the complete works of Ploti­
nus began to come out in 1986, Izutsu contributed a blurb entitled
“ d Iirakareta seishin’ no shisoka” (The thinker with an “ open mind” )T’
Although Plotinus is called a Neoplatonist, he by no means confined
him self within the parameters of Platonic philosophy. “ In particu­
lar, he had a passionate interest in Indian philosophy. T h e awareness
of a primal subjeethood that forms the basis of his thought is clearly
vogie. It was also not unrelated to Mahavana Buddhism,” Izutsu writes.
“ His vision of Being as the mutual permeation of all things, w’hich he
depicts as a sea of light in which everything is brilliantly intermingled,
is reminiscent of the sea of the lotus repository world that manifests
itself in sagara-mudra-samcidhi, Oeean-Imprint-Contemplation [the
highest form of contemplation in Mahavana Buddhism], and is sugges­
tive of the Domain of the interpenetration of shih and shih in I Iua Yen
philosophy.”27
Izutsu s post -Ishiki to honshitsu writings arc premised on these
ideas, and what becomes apparent when one reads them is a spiritual
perspective quite separate from his scholarly view's that deserves to be
called the “ philosophical landscape” Izutsu saw'. What I am thinking of
here is Kosinnosu to anchi kosumosu (1989; Cosmos and anti-cosmos).2lS
Just as Imi no fukcuni e (1985; To the depths of meaning) constitutes the
flip side of Ishiki to honshitsu, adding to it and deepening it, Kosumosu
to anchikosumosu broadens and deepens the main themes of Sufism
and Taoism (1966-1967). In this wrork arc collected translations of the
lectures of the Eranos period as w ell as those that he gave in Japan
upon his return from Iran. These arc not wrhat arc generally regarded
as lecture transcripts. Izutsu wTote his lectures the same wrav that he
composed his essays. What he read before an audience w'as a work
for wTieh lie had chosen his w'ords writh extreme care, thought about
their expression, gave them structure and then polished them until the
lecture could be published unchanged as an essay. I have seen a doc­
umentary film of the English-language lecture “ Cosmos and Anti-cos­
mos,” wiiich w'ould serve as the title of the book.29 There is virtually
no difference between wTat was spoken on that occasion and w'hat is
contained in the printed text.
In one essay in Kosumosu to anchi kosumosu , in which Izutsu
alludes to Plotinus, he w'rites as follow's about the aim of his specula­
tions and the results that might to be expected from them. “ If there is
any merit in this essay, it probably lies in the fact that I have attempted
to interpret the classical texts of Him Yen philosophy systematically in
terms of their relevance to the modern philosophical probleimitique
We should not understand this attempt as philosophical speculation in
a general sense, for Izutsu, the “ philosophical probJeniatique” means
the issues that arc directly related to human existence. That he does
not go so far as to say so is not out of modcstv; for him, the assump­
tion was so self-evident that, were it not the ease, there would be no
reason for philosophy to exist. Izutsu continued to be interested in
Plotinus throughout his life. In his final years, that interest grew' deeper
and deeper. Plotinus’ ideas flow’ like an underground stream through
Kosimwsa to cuichi kosumosii. Just as Plotinus depicts the primordial
emanation from the One as light, Izutsu draws attention to the fact
that the w'orld of Hua Yen, too, is a w'orld full of light. As if to say there
w'ere topics he had been unable to deal w ith exhaustively in Shinpi tet-
sugaku (1949), he often alludes to Plotinus even in his last w'ork, Ishiki
no keijijogaku (1993).
T h e biograph}' of Plotinus — “ On the Life of Plotinus and the
Arrangement of His Books,” to be exact — wras w'ritten shortly after his
death by bis disciple Porphyry.’1 The person depicted in it is not the
brilliant philosopher; rather, he is a man of unusual pow ers with ties to
the other world. Small w'ondcr then that one of the treatises in Plotinus’
Eimead is called “ On Our Allotted Guardian Spirit.” In the Roman
period, it was the custom to celebrate Plato’s birthday as a hob' day and
to offer poems. On one such occasion, w'hen Porphyry read aloud a
poem entitled “The Sacred Marriage,” full of mystical and occasionally
even shamanistic content, someone in the crow'd veiled out that he wras
out of his mind for composing such a fantastical work. At that moment,
Plotinus said to Porphyry in a loud voice for all to hear: “You have proved
yourself simultaneously a poet, a philosopher and a teacher of sacred
truth.” ’2 Plotinus, it w'ould be fair to say, was a sage in the true sense,
someone who w’ent beyond being a philosopher narrowly defined.
“ [H |aving completed the inquiry in his own mind from the begin­
ning to the end, he then committed to wa iting the results of his inquiry,
and as he thus w'ovc together, in the course of w'riting, what he had
deposited in his soul, it seemed as if he was transcribing w'hat be w rote
from a book.” 3* Porphyry speaks not only about w hat his teacher Plotinus
w'rote but about bow lie wrote it. When it came to speaking, Plotinus
“ often . . . goes into raptures and speaks emotionally from the depths of
feeling rather than from tradition.” ’4 What Porphyry deseribes as “ tra­
dition” means the history of Platonic philosophy as passed down in the
Academy, but to say that he spoke “ from the depths of feeling” docs
not mean he said what lie pleased; “ as was divinely told to him ” would
perhaps be a better description. Philosophy for Plotinus was not an aca­
demic intellectual discipline; it was a wisdom, a spirituality, a religious
practice that rivaled Christianity, which was then spreading throughout
the Roman Empire. What Porphyry tries to depict is not what wc today
would call the life of a philosopher. It is the life of a mvstie seeking after
Truth. In lzutsu’s statement that Plotinus’ successor was not Proelus but
Augustine, w c should probably read his view of the history of philoso­
phy that sees the revival of Plato’s philosophy as occurring not in the
philosophic tradition but in religion. The ideas of Plotinus that Kukai
encountered, too, w ere not a philosophy but bad already assumed the
form of religion, Nestorian Christianity, which bad made its way across
China and changed its name to Chingchiao, the “ luminous religion.”
In an early novella, “ Tosotsutcn no junrei” (The pilgrimage of
heaven),’ ’ Shiba envisions the possibility that Nestorianism had been
introduced into Japan. T h e assumption that Christianity' as a religion
had been brought to Japan in Kiikai’s time wras open to debate, as both
Shiba and Izutsu w'ere presumably fully aware, but that was probably
not the main point. The two of them believed, how ever, that one could
not completely discount the possibility7 that the cultural —or w'hat may
well be called the spiritual—shock, w'hieh began with Plotinus and was
inherited bv Augustine, had been brought to Japan by the founder of
Shingon esoterieism.

Kenzaburo Oe (1935- ) has written a w'ork entitled “ Izutsu uehu no

shuen de: Choetsu no kotoba Izutsu Toshihiko 0 vomu” (On the fringes
of the Izutsu universe: Transcendental W O RD s , Reading Toshihiko
Izutsu).’6 T h e impact of reading Izutsu’s Mabometto (1952; M u h a m ­
mad) in his youth, Oe says, wras comparable to that of reading Furansu
runesansu no hitobito (1950; T h e people of the French Renaissance)
and deciding that one day he wanted to study with its author, Kazuo

m
Watanabc ( 1 9 0 1 - 1 9 7 5 ) . It would be fair to regard this as the highest
praise Oc eould gi\e. While C)e was reading William Blake, he read
Izutsu’s Shinpi tetsugaku “ as though in a delirium.” ^ And when he
read Dante, too, he took his lead from Izutsu’s studies of Islam, he said.
For Oc, Blake and Dante are not merely literary classics; they are his
predecessors who opened the way to Corbin’s nnindus imaginalis. Oe
even made a statement suggestive of Asm Palacios when he said that
Dante’s Divine Comedy came to mind while be was reading Izutsu on
Ibn ‘Arab!. What is more, in discussing Toshihiko Izutsu, Oe alluded to
themes that Hidco Kobayashi dealt with in his later years, his theories
about language and the w orld of the dead.

1 once likened the late llideo Kobavashi’s study of the ancient

period and the world of the dead in Motoori Norinaga to the world
of Professor Lcvi-Strauss. If Mr kobavashi had adopted structuralism
as a practical approach, 1 believe that lie would have been able to
make those statements in which, even despite his prodigious rhetor­
ical ability, ambiguities remain, into something more readily under­
standable. To put it another way, Mr Kobayashi would likely have
gone in the direction of bringing his research on Motoori Norinaga
to completion as linguistic theory, and new pcrspectiycs on it would
likely have been opened up; or so 1thought as 1ga\fe my imagination
free rein while reading Mr Izutsu’s work. ^
T he potential for linguistic development in Norinaga studies that
Oe remarks on presumably points to the deepening of the theory of
W O R D as a “ depth-consciousness philosophy of language” that Izutsu
bad attempted. It w'as noted earlier that Shusaku Endo bad alluded to
linguistic dlaya-consciousness, w ithout mentioning Izutsu’s name, in a
tribute to Hideo Kobavashi’s memory. That both Oe and Kudo discuss
points of similarity' betw een Izutsu and Kobayashi is highly suggestive. 1
have heard that Izutsu read O e’s cssav and w'as so delighted by it that he
sent a letter to the editors of the magazine in w hich it w'as published. I

I lad he newer heard of Toshihiko Izutsu, Kcizo I lino (1929-2002)

writes, he w'ould not have been able to get through the uphill battle
against the hallucinations that plagued him during his treatment for a
malignant tumor and “ could probably not have brought mv conscious-
• *

ness, w hich bad gone one step short of madness, back into a some­
what more bearable form.” There is a collection of essavs,
j selected bvj
Hino himself, entitled Tamashii no kokei (The spectacle of the soul).40
Divided into four parts corresponding to the times in which the essavs
were written, it begins in Part One with pieces dating from 1950 into
the 1960s when he was emploved at a newspaper company; the last
section, Part Four, contains works written in the 1990s while he was
suffering from cancer. T h e name of Toshihiko Izutsu is found here
and there in several w'orks from this last period. Guided bv the Koran,
which Izutsu translated, Hino speaks of the “ night of existence” ; he
also discusses the light of “ Being,” an allusion to Suhrawardf and his
“ metaphysics of light.” Keizo Hino started out as a literary critic. In
his later years, he returned once again to the question of Being, which
lie had raised during his years as a critic. As lie proceeded along this
path, Izutsu v'as, in a true sense, his travelling companion. Having
been a reader of Izutsu ever since Mahometto , Hino had long been
aware of Toshihiko Izutsu. Yet what lie experienced in Ishiki to hon-
shitsu was something on a completely different order from what he had
caught sight of in the biography of the Prophet. The impact of reading
it exceeded his expectations, as can be deduced from his statement, “ I
probably read Ishiki to honshitsu three times.”41
Keizo Hino was sixtv-one when a malignant tumor was discovered.
After surgerv, suffering from hallucinations as a result of side effects
from general anesthesia and painkillers, he came to experience the
world of Ishiki to honshitsu literally.

Whenever a hallucination occurs, even though not clearly aware of

it, I had the physical sensation of some faint movement deep inside
my body. It is a sensation that had an awful, primordial effect in
which meaning and image were indistinguishable, that somehow
combined both meaning and image, or, rather, as though image were
actually meaning and meaning were image.42

Hino secs that Izutsu’s true nature is that of a poet, not because
Izutsu discusses poets, but because “ his awareness of issues is itselt
poetic" and because he relates to the world as a poet. “T he poet is the
 TIIK PHILO SO PHY OK MIND

person who puts him/hersclf in the deepest places of the bodv and of
consciousness from which w'ords shimmer forth and who lives primor-
diallv in all human beings, the wTole world, the entire universe. In that
sense, s/he is even a branch of science, and of w'hat is called scholar­
ship as well,” he w'ritesT This passage from a w'ork entitled “ ligataku
yutaka 11a sabaku no hito” (A man of the incffablv fertile desert), w'rittcn
as an insert to accompany Izutsu’s selected works, is one of the most
beautiful in all of Keizd 1 lino’s essays. In it, he cites \ini no fukaini e as
one of his favorite hooks and quotes this paragraph from it.

As the countless tangled and intertwined “potential forms of mean­

ing” attempt to emerge into the surface brightness of meaning, tliev
jostle and joust with one another in the dusk of linguistic conscious­
ness—the subtle, intermediate zone where the “Nameless” are just
on the verge of metamorphosing into the “Named.” Between “Being”
and “Non-Being,” between unarticulatcd and articulated, the specter
of some indeterminate thing faintlv flickers.44
This beautiful passage truly captures the verv instant at wdiich VVORDs
manifest themselves in the world along w ith meaning, but Hino prob-
ablv did not cite it simplv to express his appreciation of its style. Just as
Izutsu did when dealing w'ith Ibn ‘Arab!, Hino borrows Izutsu’s w'ords
to speak about his own experience. He, too, had witnessed a similar
scene and found in Izutsu’s writing what he had been unable to put
into words for himself.
Keizd Hino died at the age of seventy’-three, twelve vears after being
diagnosed with cancer. In his late novels, Toshihiko Izutsu’s influence
can be found, both directly and indirectlv. It appears in the way Hino
perceives the reality of the other w'orld and puts it into words and in his
constant efforts to trv to universalize that experience. If it w'ere possible
to discuss in detail this group of novels w ritten tow ard the end of his
life, a new7understanding of both Izutsu and the true nature of the mys­
tic w'ithin Keizo Hino the w'riter w'ould perhaps become clear.

Alluding to Imi no fukaini e, linguist Kcizaburo Maruyama (1933­

1993) w'rites, “ the main melody can be heard echoing throughout.” ll
is “ nothing less than the W O R D at the root of human existence.” fS
Maruyama w;as perhaps the first to pereeixe that W O R D was Toshihiko
» %

Izutsu’s most important technical term. He, too, used W O R D as part

of his own core vocabulary. In an cssav introducing Izntsu, Maruyama
writes, “The living thought of this profound international scholar docs
not know how to stand still and is even now' in flux,” calling attention
to the fact that his predecessor’s ideas know no hounds and continue to
evolve.46 M aruyam a’s contributions to the stud}' of Saussure in japan
are huge. His existence as a trailblazcr has been indispensable for the
emergence of such outstanding scholars as Hideki Maeda (1951- ) and
Morio Tagai (1972- ) w-ho came after him. Although Maruvama’s views
on Saussure max' hax c been superseded by the deepening of research
and the diseox'crv of new material, the study of Keizaburo Marux'ama
the thinker has only just begun.
Keizaburo M a ru v a m a ’s major work is Seiniei to kajo (Life and
excess), a central topic of which is the thought of Toshihiko Izutsu.
Seiniei to kajo xx'as intended as a trilogx', but when he completed Part
Tw'o, Homo mortalis, he became ill and died suddenly at the age of
sixty. When reading this work, one realizes that, although Maruyama’s
experience of Izutsu occurred in his later x ears, it was the most import­
ant intellectual ex'ent in his life.

If I xxere to summarize the theorx' of linguistics as ontologx' com­

mon to Toshihiko Izutsu, to the late Saussure of the anagrams, and
to me myself, it is the idea that “the semantic articulation process
of WORD, which simultaneously affects the superficial and deep
strata of consciousness, is essentially incorporated into the end func­
tion of perception —object recognition; the entire world of being that
spreads out before us externally and internally is itself nothing less
than the product of WORD’s pow er to cause being to arise.”4

Hereafter, similar passages frequently appear in M aruxam a’s waitings.

Marux'ama speaks of Izutsu’s theorx’ of W O R D in enthusiastic lan­
guage as though he has made a discox’cry. But in “ Nijisseiki no ‘chi’ ni
mnkete” (Toxx'ards a ‘wisdom’ for the twenty-first century), which con­
cludes Sei no enkan undo (The cx clical mox'ement of life), the work
he w rote in the vear before he died,4S the tone is slightly different from
his other waitings. Rather than the study of W O R D , what Marux'ama
powerfully deals with this time is the significance of Franos. And, as if
going back in time, he discusses ekstcisis and enthoiisiasmos and calls
attention to the need for a revaluation of Shinjii tetsiigaku. This work
is a profoundly interesting, as well as accurate, study of lzutsu, hut it
perhaps should be read as Maruyama’s intellectual last will and testa­
ment. Just as the writer of a will expects it to he read and put into effect,
one cannot help thinking that Maruyama, too, expected this work to be
read in a similar wav. Indeed, already suffering from cancer, Maruvama
sensed that death was near.
Although the acquaintance between lzutsu and Maruvama arose out
of the scholarly field of linguistic philosophy, the inevitability of their
encounter predates scholarship. From the time he was a boy, and even
more so as a voung man, Maruvama felt a “ distrust of reality, a sense of
its insubstantiality, its utter inability’ to answer the question ‘why.” Mc; 1 le
was unable, he said, to have a firm sense of being alive. The mere telling
of his own experiences, he probably thought, wordd make it difficult
for them to acquire universality. And so Maruyama let Julien Green
sav what was in his owm heart. “ C ’est un bizarrerie de mon esprit de ne
eroire a line ehose que si je 1 ai revee.” (It is one of my peculiarities not
to believe in anything unless I have dreamt about),so or “ Peut-etre tout
cette vie qui s’agitait autour de nous n’etait-clle qu’un songe, un autre
sommeil qui ne nous fermait pas les paupieries, mais nous faisait reves
les veux ouxerts. . . . [D]ans ee mondc d’illusions, . . . |n]i les paroles
des homines, ni leurs 1i\rres . . . n’avait de realite.” (Perhaps the whole
of this life wTiich w'ent on about us wras nothing but a dream, another
sort of sleep, wTieh did not cause our eyelids to close, but induced us to
dream w'ith our eyes open. . . . [1 |n this w'orld of illusions . . . [njeither
the words that men uttered nor their books . . . had any reality.)’ 1
When discussing Maruyama, it is necessary to consider Julien
G r e e n ’s influence as having the same importance for him as Sau-
ssure’s. Indeed, the fact that he started out from a study of Julien
Green w'ould determine Maruyam j a’s intellectual and literary* view's.
“The seer of souls” — this term that lzutsu used of Dostoevsky could
be applied directly to Julien Green. Green did not conceal the fact
that he had such a nature. When one reads his diaries and other writ­
ings, one realizes that this quality belonged not only to him but to his
family as well. It was probably because of his encounter with Green
that Maruvama discovered’Saussure not just as a linguist but also as
an existential seeker. Saussure was two people, Maruvama writes. One
was the founder of modern linguistics; the other, the late Saussure
symbolized by his stud}' of anagrams, he writes, “ was also a poet for
whom madness, phantasms and fear and trembling flooded his inner
being.” ' 2 That this was not merely M aruyam a’s personal opinion, but
an indisputable historical fact can be seen from the research of Morio
Tagai. Recall the passage cited above, “ common to Toshihiko Izutsu,
to the late Saussure of the anagrams, and to me myself.” T he intrinsic
function of Ian gage for Saussure and W O R D for Izutsu and Maruvama
is the evocation of Being. W O R D s arc not means of expressing some­
thing; W O R D s, they believed, cause all things to be. Each of them
developed bis own respective ideas based on a recognition that the exis­
tence of W O R D s plainly demonstrates that another world exists deep
within the phenomenal world and that W O R D s are sign posts which
lead human beings to the other world.

Being is fundamentally phenomenal. From the perspective of funda­

mental phenomenality, one acknowledges that what people no doubt
believe to be the whole of “ reality” is not indeed the whole of reality
but merely its surface. The surfaces of Being are merely the visible
forms of its depth. All phenomena emerge from that which is the
“prior-to-phenomena.” Entering the “prior-to-phenomena,” one has
to grasp everything from it.''

The reason that Maruvama alluded frequently to Eranos in the last year
of his life was because he, too, was living the “ Eranos spirit” in Japan.
“ Lettre a un ami japonais” is an open letter addressed to Toshihiko
Izutsu from Jacques Derrida. It is dated 10 July 1983, and, as we can tell
from its contents, the occasion for writing it was a conversation Izutsu
had had with Derrida in Paris earlier that June.'4 Although Psyche, in
which this work is contained, was not published in France until 1987,
Keizaburo Maruyam a’s translation of this letter came out in the April
1984 issue of the magazine Shiso (Thought) under the title o f ‘“ Kaitai
kochiku’ Deconstruction to wa nani ka” (What is deconstruction?).'' It
was Izutsu who recommended Maruvama as its translator.
 THK PHILOSOPHY OK MINI)

In the autumn of the year in which the letter was written, Her-
ricla visited Japan, and at that time iYlaruvania exchanged views with
him on Saussurc. In Binika no fetishizinnu, Maruvama alludes to their
conversation and to this letter as well. In the final analysis, Derrida’s
deconstruction is “ hv no means destructive,” Maruvama writes, “ hut
* v

rather, it was an act of dismantling the Western metaphysical tradition,

bv tracing it hack to its origins.” 56 There is a perception that deconstruc­
tion has been exhaustively dealt with, so it is extremely interesting that
Maruvama says it is a dismantling that goes hack to the origins. I Icrc,
as in Derrida, a Being is perceived that is eternally incapable of being
deconstructed. What Izutsu discussed throughout “ Ishiki to honshitsu”
is a type of dismanthng/c/eco??stn/cbon involving the breakdown of lan­
guage in the phenomenal world; it is nothing less than the act of going
back to the origins of the Real World. “Things, losing clear distinctions
from one another, become floating and unstable, lose their ow n origi­
nal formation, as they mingle and permeate one another, and gradually
attempt to return to the primordial chaos.’’” This was also the mental­
ity that permeated Eranos. Derrida, Maruvama writes, “ called [Izutsu]
maitre, with a respect that went bevond professeur."
In “ Letter to a Japanese Friend,” the question Derrida first raised
with Izutsu was the possibility of translating deconstruction into Japa­
nese. The letter format indicates Derrida’s desire to continue their earlier
conversation. Recalling his own philosophical career, Derrida begins by
attempting a negative definition of deconstruction, which, despite being
repeatedly misunderstood, had taken the intellectual world by storm.
And yet, no matter from which angle one looks at it, it is impossible to
define deconstruction, in the sense of elucidating its linguistic meaning.
Deconstruction, rather, is an “ event,” Derrida says, one that takes place
of its own accord.58 He not only perceived in it something that is by no
means capable of being “ deconstructed” by human hands, he presum­
ably held the firm belief that the subjcct/agcnt of deconstruction is not a
human being. In the letter, Derrida repeatedly says that what we should
pav attention to is not the static meaning of the virtually indefinable
word deconstruction but its dynamism.59
Nowadays philosophers, too busy dealing too long with the empiri­
cal world, have forgotten to invest their intellectual energies in solving
problems that have intrinsic meaning — this sense of crisis seems to be
the spiritual foundation thaHjoth Izutsu and Derrida shared. History
will likely remember Derrida, who plaved an active part in the polit­
ical, religious and cultural clashes of his day, not just as a thinker but
as a practitioner in the higher sense —someone who put his ideas into
practice. Such a figure calls to mind the sages who appear in Izutsu s
Shinpi tetsugaku.
O f the many essavs bv Izutsu on Derrida, “ Derida no naka no
‘Yudavajin,’” (The “ Jew ” in Derrida) is a response to this letter.60 Der­
rida is accorded a special position in Jmi no fukcinii e, which contains
this essay, and is discussed there many times. Although Izutsu was a
first-rate exegete of the classics, he was also an outstanding expositor of
modern thought. There are essays of his on Sartre, of course, but also
on Merleau-Ponty, Em m anuel Levinas, Roland Barthes and Jacques
Derrida. What is common to the modern French thinkers just cited
is their “ Jewishness.” In “ Derida no naka no ‘Yudavajin,’” Izutsu deals
with Jewishness in relation to Derrida. Jewishness does not indicate
simply that someone has genetically inherited Jewish bloodlines. It was
Derrida who said of Husserl that, although he was a Jew, he was Greek
inside. Derrida was an Algerian by origin, and, as Izutsu points out, he
was a Jew' more by basic temperament, i.e. spiritually, than in terms of
blood. What Izutsu has his sights on is the deconstruction of the spir­
ituality taking place in Jacques Derrida the man. Derrida might say
that, unless religion is deconstructed, “ real” religion cannot exist. Here
Izutsu cites the words of the Jew ish poet Edmond Jabes. T he possibil­
ity" and impossibility of deconstruction was clearly recognized by Jabes,
who likened the w'orld to a book. A book is static, but the W O R D s
contained in it are aliye. W O R D s change their shape and reyeal them­
selves depending on the reader who sees them.

True Reality and Panentheism:

Kitaro Nishida and Ben’nei Yamazaki
Kitaro Nishida probably never heard of Toshihiko Izutsu. T he reason
that statement cannot be made categorically is that Izutsu’s Arabia
shisoshi (History of Arabic thought), the first serious history of Islamic

^OS
philosophy in Japanese, was published in 1941, and Kitaro Nislnda was
still alive at the time.
When lzutsn first began to read Nishida is not known. After Vasa-
huro lkcda entered Keio University hut before he beeamc a student of
Shinohu Orikuelh, around the time lie was boasting about construet-
ing an “ lkcda philosophy,” lie and Izutsu were, for some reason, “ cra/.v
about philosophy,” lie wrote, so it is conceivable that Izutsu was already
reading Nishida by that time. In the writings and colloquies contained
in Izutsu’s selected works, Kitaro Nishida s name appears once in one
of the essays and once in the colloquies, and each citation is limited to
quoting a passage from Nishida. lie did not engage in any developed
thinking about Nishida’s philosophy, hi addition, there is a comment
on /en no kenkyu (1911; An Inquiry into the Good, 1992), which Izutsu
wrote in response to a questionnaire from Iwanami Sliotcn, “ Walashi
no sansatsu” (1988; Mv three books), which is included in the collec­
tion of his miscellaneous pieces, Yonni to kciku (Reading and writing):
“The central theme of this work, ‘pure experience,’ is the starting point
of what is called Nishida philosophy. It is a record of his thinking in the
early vears while he was still groping for the path lie should follow. The
freshness of that thinking strikes the reader’s heart.”6’ There is also a
blurb, which has not vet been published elsewhere, for the 1988 edition
of Nishida’s complete works, entitled “ lma, naze ‘Nishida tetsugaku’
ka” (Why “ Nishida philosophy” now?).

An original and creative philosopher who, in his speculations, frcclv

manipulated the conceptual structures of Occidental philosophy
while preserving in the depths of existence the primal subjccthood
of Oriental self-awareness. In post-Mciji japan, newly opened to the
West, he lived dynamically as a pioneer at the intellectual contact
point between Orient and Occident. The genuine starting point of
modern Japanese philosophy, Kitaro Nishida’s thinking hints at the
potential for developing Oriental philosophy in various new direc­
tions. The time has now come, I believe, to once more critically
retrace the trajectory of bis thought. 62
These sentences arc the most substantial account of Nishida that
Izutsu ewer made. When he writes “ The time has now' come . . . to
once more critically retrace the trajectory of this thought,” his “ read­
ing” of Nishida does not seem to be that of someone who had been
following him earlier.
It is possible, however, to detect Nishida’s influence in Shinpi tet-
sugaku and the essays of Izutsu’s early period. It is not my intention
to argue that this influence was on a par with the influence Izutsu
received from Ibn ‘Arab!, Plato or Plotinus. Yet the closeness in their
terminology and the contrast in their speculations about God seem
impossible to overlook. The term that comes to mind here is “ true real­
ity” (shinjitsuzai, T h e importance that this one word has in
A?? Inquiry1 into the Good can be seen simply by looking at the table of
contents. The fourth chapter in “ Part II: Reality ” is entitled “True Real­
ity Constantly Has the Same Formative M ode,” and the fifth is “T h e
Fundamental Mode of True Reality.” Let me cite several sentences in
which Nishida refers to “ true reality.”

We must now investigate what we ought to do and where we ought to

find peace of mind, but this calls first for clarification of the nature of
the universe, human life, and true reality. (An Inquiry1 into the Good,
p p - 37-38)

In the independent, self-sufficient true reality prior to the separation

of subject and object, our knowledge, feeling, and volition are one.
Contrary to popular belief, true reality is not the subject matter of
dispassionate knowledge; it is established through our feeling and
willing. (Ibid., p. 49)

[TJrue reality is the free development that emerges from the internal
necessity of a single unifying factor. (Ibid., p. 58).

T h e first sentence deals with the priority of understanding reality.

This takes precedence over ordinary activities, of course, but also over
the personal desire for peace of mind. “ Peace of mind” here does not
mean financial security; it implies salvation as seen from the human
perspective. Nishida states clearlv that knowledge of true reality comes
before this. To truly' know the Transcendent, he believes, is the real
goal of human life. T h e next passage implies that what brings reality
 TIIK PHILOSOPHY OK M IND

into existence is “ feeling and willing” ; in other words, it is something

that results from an activity of the soul. And, in the final passage, true
real it}' is shown to he synonymous with the “ freedom” that arises from
the internal necessity of the One.

As the ultimate true reality, the One is not something that in an abso­
lute, negative way is opposite to, or rejecting of, the world of the rela­
tive Main'. It must he the agent of wise love, dispensing being to them
and causing them to he, surpassing all beings in its infinite loftiness,
while enveloping them with infinite closeness and infinite warmth.
To put it another way, Xenophanes’ Cod is not a purely metaphysical
One that unequivocally confronts and contends with the All. It is h e n
k a i p a n , in which both the One and the All, while in an absolutely

antithetical relationship of transcendence vs. non-transcendence, are

congruent with one another in a paradoxical unit} (Simplicius, on
P h y s i c s 2 2 : to g a r t o u t o h e n k a i p a n t o n t h e o n e l e g e n h o X e n o p h a n e s

[For Xenophanes said that God is One and All]).6'

Whereas for Nishida “ [t]rue reality is the free development that

emerges from the internal necessity of a single unifying faetor,” Izntsn
writes that it is nothing less than “ the agent of wise love, dispensing
being.” For both men, “ true reality” is another name for the absolutely
Transcendent, but Nisbida understands it as “ ultimate freedom,”
Izntsn, as ‘Vise love.” The two men are not dealing w ith different real­
ities; eaeh sees a different persona of the One.
The God of Islam, the Ultimate, has ninety-nine personae, Yoshi-
nori Moroi writes, and a hundred faees, if one adds Allah. Moroi
translates them all into Japanese, beginning wdth “ T he Most C o m ­
passionate, the Most Mereiful, the King, the Most Flolv” and ending
with “ Pardoner.” What he emphasizes by doing so is tbe impossibil­
ity, in an ultimate sense, of naming God. The moment someone gives
God a name, no matter how outstanding that person mav be, s/he is
already circumscribing God. By adding Allah and counting a hundred
personae, Moroi is clearly stating his awareness that even the w'ord
“Allah” is incapable of expressing G o d ’s true nature. Allah is God, but
not God per se. T he statement that even the absolute name in reli­
gious terms cannot elucidate God carries even more w'eight w'hen one
considers that Moroi was a sincere monotheist. He perceived the world
as lie discussed it, and he lived that way. Moroi made the impossibility
of speaking about God the starting point of his own scholarship.
Herein lies the main reason for discussing the similarities and dif­
ferences between lzntsu and Nishida in regard to the term “ true real­
ity.”
j T heyj both call transcendent reality* “ true reality”
* and base their
discussions of it on the persona that each of them perceived precisely
because theyj are aware that God has countless bices that they cannot
.

possibly deal with fully. In their studies of the Transcendent, each of

them treated only those aspects that they had seen, felt and experi­
enced for themselves.
In the language of lzntsu, who calls the Transcendent “ wise love,”
one cannot help recalling Ibn ‘Arab!, who expressed the workings of God
as “ the breath of the Merciful.” That the “ internal necessity” of the Tran­
scendent is ultimate love is what Ibn ‘Arab! dealt with at the risk of his
life and what lzntsu sought to revive for modern times. In this endeavor,
it was Hua Yen thought, Izutsu contended, that had a remarkable, syn­
chronic resonance with the ideas of Ibn ‘Arabi.64 T he influence of Hua
Yen had already found its way into Izutsu’s thought in the work on the
prc-Soeratics that he wrote before Shinpi tetsugaku 65 In the passage cited
above, lzntsu sums up Xenophanes’ ideas with the phrase hen kai pan ,
which he translates into Japanese as ichi soku zen (— HP• ). It is clear
that behind this translation is the passage from the Garland Sutra ichi
soku isscii, isscii soku ichi (—-HP— —), “ One in All, All in One,”
w hich is emblematic of a central concept of Hua Yen: interdependent
origination.66 T h e expression “ One in All,” taken directly from Hna
Yen, is frequently used in Shinpi tetsugaku. “ One and All” and “ One in
All” signify' that individuals and the whole are in a participatory relation
with one another. In other words, it is not an additive view of the world
in which ones —separate, individual beings —gather together to form a
w hole; the One is immediately in All and vice versa.
Hua Yen is also alive in Nishida when, in discussing the basic prin­
ciple of being, he writes that, “ the fundamental mode ol reality is such
that reality is one while it is many and m am - while it is one.”6- Nishida
does not refer directly to Hua Yen in An Inquiry into the Good ; vet the
influence of Hua Yen thought can be detected everyw here in this work.
T he fact that the spirit of I lua Yen flows powerfully in both Shinpi
tetsugaku, which was Izutsu’s real starting point, and in An Inquiry into
the Gooch which was Nishida’s intellectual starting point, cannot, I
believe, be overlooked in accurately assessing the intellectual role that
Buddhism played up to that time and not just in the spiritual history" of
diese two men.
The thought of Izulsu and Nishida also resonates w ith one another
in regard to the deepening their thinking underwent at the linguistic
and W O R D level. Just as l/.utsu expresses W O R D ’s transcendence
when he savs, “ Being is W O R D ,” Nishida, too, attempted to explain
the mystery of Being in terms of the logic of “ subject,” “ predicate” and
“ copula.” The Catholic philosopher Isao Ouodcra (1929- ), who has
been developing a unique reading of Nishida’s philosophy, takes note
of Nishida’s view that “subject,” “ predicate” and “ copula” constitute an
integral reality'and sees in it a logical/ontological structure that corre­
sponds to the Christian Trinitw68 Kitaro Nishida’s philosophical strug­
gles lav in the discovery of a philosophical language. The task Nishida
was charged with was not only to develop his own thought but also to
create a philosophical language for Japan. In beginning his specula­
tions from the discovery and/or creation of a philosophical language,
Izutsu inherited Nishida’s bloodlines. Nishida called prophets “ the
mouth of G od,”6g and he recognized that a philosopher was another
name for the “ hand” of the Transcendent. T he two men are remark­
ably close in their efforts to transform their thoughts into words. At
the time Izutsu was writing Shinpi tetsugaku, he faced the manuscript
pages, he writes, “ while coughing up blood,” and not metaphorically;
the w'ork was written in his blood. There are traces of a similar struggle
in Nishida’s works as well. It is no he when Nishida savs of his own
w'ork that it is a “ document of a hard-fought battle of thought.”-0
Formulating a concept and discovering a language in which to
express it are activities that may be alike in appearance, but thev are
different in nature. Whereas conceptualizing is an activity in the phe­
nomenal w'orld, philosophical language, like poetic language, newer
manifests itself except through existential access to the other-w orldly
realm. It is for that reason that Izutsu felt close to, and had the utmost
respect for, Mallarmc, a predecessor entrusted with a similar mission.
A mission is literally on e’s life’s work, an obligation that eannot suc­
cessfully be brought to completion without setting to work and staking
one’s life on it. What reveals itself is language; a person only observes
and elucidates it. In “ Ishiki to honshitsu,” Izutsu vividly depiets the
scene of Mallarme’s encounter with absolute language, Le Verbe.

But when the poet pronounces the word “Flower” in an absolute-language

sense, something odd happens. The Flower that had appeared as [what
Mallarme calls] a “contour,” a real sensate thing under the ordinary
eireumstanees oFbeing, is transformed into a Faint vibration oFair pro­
duced by the spoken word, and disappears. And with the disappearance
oF the Flower’s “eontour,” the subjecthood oF the poet who sees the
flow'er also disappears. The flow of life is suspended, and the forms
of all things hide aw'av. In the solidification of this space of death, the
flower that had once disappeared becomes a metaphysical real it}’, and
suddenlv, illuminated bv a flash of lightning, verv clearlv rises to the
surface. A flower, an eternal flow er, an immutable flower. 1

This sort of event oeeurs not only with external objects but with imma­
nent phenomena as well. If, as Izutsu shows in Shinpi tetsugaku, poetrv
and philosophv are inextrieable, then the mvsterv of the birth of an
“ absolute language” works in the same wray for philosophical language
as it does for poetie language. And it is for that very reason that the
appearanee of W O R D in philosophy, too, “ suddenlv, illuminated by a
flash of lightning, verv elearly rises to the surfaee.”

When he stood on these metaphvsieal heights of being and pro­

nounced the word “ flower,” it was, for Mallarme, a primal act of cre­
ation comparable to God’s ercation of the universe. But, at the same
time, in the uneanny tension of its extreme impersonality, brought
about through its [the flow’er’s] nonexistenee as a thing, it was also a
gesture, both splendid and infinitely sad, with whieh Mallarme sig­
nalled the end of his own poem. 2

Mallarme likened himself wa iting poetrv to a monk. Le Verbe would

visit him when he was bv himself and no one else was there; in fact,
even when there are people around, when the event oeenrs, the poet
must confront the Absolute alone.
 I III-, P H I L O S O P H Y ( ) ! • MINI)

All Inquiry into the Good was published in 1911. But if there were
a Japanese who used the term “ true reality” (jATTY sliinjitsazai) before
that date, he would probably be worth considering. Win ? Because the
act ot talking about ultimate reality in one’s own words is nothing less
than the beginning of philosophy. If the age we live in has forgotten
that person, we must recall him. 11 is name was B cn ’nei Yamazaki.
B e n ’nei was a Buddhist priest of the Jodo (Pure band) school, who
was born in 1859 and died in 1920. A zealous prosclvtizcr, lie was also
a cleric who. Inning formulated systematic teachings on “ light” that
would reform modern Japanese Buddhism, deserves to be called a phi­
losopher. Together with Benkvd Shiio (1876-1971), he could fairly be
said to represent modern Pure band Buddhism.
In 1914, Bcn’nci established the Kdmvdkai as a sect independent of
the existing Pure band school and called his teachings Kduivdslnigi,
the doctrine of konivo ( 7 M ) , the light of grace that emanates from
the Buddha. To serve as nourishment for his own teachings, Bcn’nei
actively absorbed and assimilated Christian theology. Rather than
being a purely Buddhist expression, his komyo is reminiscent of the
1 Iolv Spilit in the Trinity. Religious philosopher Akira Kawanami, the
foremost authority on Bcn’nei Yamazaki studies, writes that “an import­
ant part of the development [of B cn ’nci’s doctrines] was Christian,
Christianity itself; indeed, it was far more Christian even than Christi­
anity itself.”"’ Phis statement is worth noting when one considers that
Kawanami is also a Buddhist priest practicing under the name Joslid.
Ben’nei Yamazaki’s teachings on Kdmydslnigi have points of contact
with Ibn ‘Arabl’s “ unity of existence” and with Suhrawardl’s mystical
philosophy of light. In addition, Bcn ’nci treated “ spirituality” as a core
concept more than twenty years before Daisetz Suzuki wrrote Nihon-
teki reisei (1944; Japanese Spirituality, 1972). If the Transcendent per sc
is regarded as a spirit, then B c n ’nci’s teachings can also be said to be
about spirit and spirituality'.
“ There is no one so unhappy as the person who lives his life in
darkness and enters into darkness without recognizing the true reality' of
the one Parent in the world,” Bcn’nei writes. 4 The one whom Bcn’nei
calls “ Parent” is Amida Nvorai, the Amitabha Buddha, or Buddha of
Infinite bight. Despite being a Buddhist, Ben’nei not only actively uses
the word “ G o d ” in his teachings,
'•2
he writes that the ideal state of ulti-
* ^

mate religion is a “ transcendental/immanent monotheistic pantheism.”

In other words, it goes well beyond the religions and spiritualities that
slavishly adhere to the differences between monotheism and pantheism
as narrowly defined.
T h e passage cited below' is from Bashoteki ronri to shukyoteki
sekciikan (1949; “ T h e Logie of Topos and the Religions Worldview,”
1986-1987), Nishida’s final work."*5 I cannot help regarding it as provi­
dential that it was published posthumously after Nishida finished writ­
ing it. Not only is it a sincere valediction to those who come after him,
it is also, I believe, Kitaro Nishida the philosopher’s most important
work. “A God who is merely transcendent and self-sufficient is not a
real God,” he states and goes on to say:

The truly dialectical God is totally transcendent and immanent,

immanent and transcendent. As such, he is the real absolute. . . .
This view is not pantheistic but may be called panentheistie.6

“ Pantheism” is the belief that all things are gods; “ panentheism,” on

the other hand, is the belief not that all things are gods but that God
exists transeendentlv in all things, both intrinsically and extrinsicallv.
A God that merely transcends human beings is not a real God. Nor
does Nishida subscribe to the worldview' that each thing individually is
a god. Rather, all things exist and contain God w'ithin them. It w'ould
be fair to think of these words as a clear expression of Nishida’s philo­
sophic creed.
When I read the following passage, it makes me think that Izutsu
had, at least, read “T he Logie of Topos and the Religious Worldview'”
before w'riting Shinpi tetsugaku.

In regard to this theory of divine immanence, there is no need to

argue whether it is p a n t h e i s m u s or p a n e n t h e i s m u s . On the affirmative
side of Plotinus’ own view of the One, i.e. on the immanent side, it
is not a matter of God existing immanentlv within all things; elcarlv
all things are contained in God and exist immanentlv within God."

When Izutsu writes that there is no need to discuss the difference

between pantheism and panentheism, that “ true reality” lies “ bevond”
 T i l l' P H I L O S O P H Y OK M I N I )

such distinctions, it would be natural to think that Nishida’s essay was

in Izutsu’s mind. What is more, l/.utsu believes that the entrance to the
transcendental world is found at the point at which human discussion
of the Ultimate reaches its limits.
In addition, when Nishida savs, “ the One of Plotinus is diametri­
cally opposed to Oriental Nothing for it does not reach the ordinary
standpoint [i.e. the horizon of everyday existence],” he places Plotinus
and Oriental Nothing at diametricall\r opposite pol c s * I le also writes
that because the Cheeks turned toward philosophy, tlicv had no real
knowledge of religion. In the passage from l/.utsu just cited, his strong
objection both to Nishida’s interpretation of panentheism and his view
of Plotinus is, 1 suspect, evident. Not onlv that, Shinpi tetsugeiku as a
whole emerges as a resounding “ N o” to Nishida’s views on Greece.
It is Ben’nei Yamazaki, rather, who resonates with Izutsu. “A tran­
scendent/ immanent monotheistic pantheism” goes beyond panen­
theism, which is the polar opposite of pantheism, because, as Ben’nei
explains, the argument over which alternative to choose takes place
within the Transcendent.

If all things were created be the hand of the one and only
Dharmakava of the universe [and | if the great ones, the universe
as a whole, the sun, the earth and all things belonging to them, as
well as each and every separate part, no matter how infinitesimal, are
offshoots of the one great Dharmakava, then, each is a small dhar-
makaya. . . . In that ease, a person is an individual dharmakava, and
no matter how infinitesimal things may be, there is nothing so small
that it cannot contain God. 9
The Dharmakava —the unmanifested unity' of all beings and things — is
the ultimate Absolute. All things are generated bv its hand. The large
ones are the sun, the earth, the universe as a whole, but no matter how'
tinv a thing might be, there are no beings that are exceptions to this rule.
Kacli individual being is a real existence to which the Transcendent
has allotted a piece of itself. For that reason, Ben’nei says, no matter
how small each thing might be, nothing is so small that the workings of
God do not extend to it. 'These words closely resemble the w'orld of Ibn
‘Arab!. Just as Ibn ‘Arab! calls the 'Transcendent “ Being,” Bcu’nci writes
“ Parent” or “ Dharmakava” or “ God.” It is his strong intention to show
that even the single w ord “ C o d ” is only an expression of the self-mani­
festation, self-determination and self-articulation of the One.

Throughout his entire life, Toshihiko Izutsu continued to raise

questions existentially about reincarnation. In Shinpi tetsugaku, there
is even a chapter entitled “ Rinne tcnsci kara junsui jizoku e ” (From
metempsychosis to duree pure), but the topic \\ras not confined to that
one chapter.80 He did not lose sight of it even in his discussions of Plato
and Aristotle. Stop it, Pythagoras said to someone kicking a dog; that
dog used to be a friend of mine in a previous existence. Plato inherited
Pythagoras’ ideas and believed in previous, present and future lives,
Izutsu writes; likewise, the voung Aristotle came under Plato’s influ­
ence and at one time even treated reincarnation and transmigration
in the context of the mvstcrv religions. Even though Plato and Aris­
totle may have discussed it, Izutsu did not believe in it unless he was
able to experience it for himself. The issues of reincarnation and karma
arc classic examples of this. For that reason, Izutsu’s theory of karma
reveals a development uniquely his own.
We cannot know the truth about the concept of karma, Izutsu
believed, as long as it is confined to the framework of the individual;
whereas individuals remain individuals, karma, rather, is the gate­
way that opens on to the universal. We find this conclusion of his in
his final work, Ishiki no keijijogaku, “Daijo kishinron" no tetsugaku
(1993; Metaphysics of consciousness in the Awakening of Faith in the
Mahavana).

And yet, be that as it mav, the journey to reach “ultimate awareness”

is indeed long and arduous. For in order to achieve s a t o r i in the sense
of the “ultimate awareness” that [ h e A w a k e n i n g o f F a i t h talks about,
a person must rid him/hcrself of the karma of the innumerable and
immeasurable semantic articulations that have accumulated la\er by
layer not 011H during his/her lifetime but ox’er the hundreds or even
thousands of years that preceded it, and that cannot be done all at
once.

WS
 And so, in order to renounce d l l karma and revert to the origi­
nal state that preceded it, as long as one lives, one must rcpcatcdlv
return from unawarcncss to awareness, over and over again. S a t o r i
is not a onc-time-onlv event, h’rom unawareness to awareness, from
awareness to unawarcncss, and from unawareness to awareness once
again ....
The individual existence that has awakened to the religious and
ethical principle of “ultimate awareness” is drawn into the cvclical
motion of the field of existential consciousness that the unceasing
exchange between unawareness and awareness creates in this wav.
It is this existential, cvclical journev, 1 believe, that is the deep
level of p h i l o s o p h i c a I meaning of what is known as s a i n s a r a
freincarnation],Sl

This passage might well be ealled the last sentenee of Ishiki no keijijogaku.
That means that it was also the last sentenee that lzutsu ever wrote.
In it lzutsu raises the primordial question of w ho is it that has truly
lived. That he felt that “ a person must rid him/herself of the karma of
the innumerable and immeasurable semantic’ articulations that have
accumulated laver bv laver not onlv during his/her lifetime but over
the hundreds or even thousands of years that preceded it” tells us that
his dialogues with the people he encountered through his philosoph­
ical activities both in evervdav life and in the imaginal world were
real events for him in the true sense of the word. Act simultaneouslv
implicit here is an existential question: Can philosophy save the dead?
I
I
I
1
 Afterword

7 1993, Tosh ill iko Izutsu died suddenly. In Sliinpi tetsu-

O
N Ja n u a r y
gciku (1949; Philosoj^liy of mysticism), Izutsu had written the following
about death.

While the body lives, the spirit sinks down into the darkness of death;
therefore, so long as the body does not die, the spirit eannot live.
Until one dies in the flesh, one eannot live in the spirit, bor a person
to be able to live a life truly worthv of that name, the spirit must first
be freed from the tomb of the flesh. As the tragedian Kuripides savs,
“Who knows but that life be death and death be life? '; to be alive in
this world is, in fact, to be dead, and to be dead in this world, eon-
verselv, is to be truly alive.1
Death is one of the central themes of Sliinpi tetsugaku. In it Izutsu
thoroughly explores how to die while still alive. The via mystica, he
savs, is to die existentially while still having a body. But if that were all,
it would merely he imitating melete thanatou, “ the training for death”
that Plato advocates. Signs of deepening are found in the passage from
KurijAdcs, “ Who knows hut that life he death and death be life?” So as
not to allow' death to end up as merely a conceptual problem, Izutsu
attempts to understand the dead as solid realities, as Rilke had done in
the Duino Elegies. Such remarkable jNission is found in that attitude
that the term “ longing” befits it.

?2I
 But, as time passed, Izutsu’s meditations on the dead later in his
life took on a very different complexion.

There reallv is a strange dimension to human existence. I feel that

intensely every time I meet Yasaburo, “the phantom man.” That
mav partlv he because the Yasaburo who haunts my figural space is
surprisingly youthful and lighthearted. I meet him there after a long
time, as funny and as playful as he was in our student days. . . .
On the level of existence, I have lost an irreplaceable friend. But
everv time he comes to visit me now in the guise ot “the phantom
man . . . holding up a flower,” he comforts me, cheers me up and
entertains me. On this level, in this new form, our friendship will
continue to grow. I sincerely hope so.2

The w'ords written in “ ‘G e n ’ei no hito’: Ikeda Yasaburo o onion” (1983;

Remembering Yasaburo Ikeda, “ the phantom m an ” ) must be under­
stood at faee value. T h e y are by no means a figure of speech. “ T h e
phantom m an ” is one of those “ fondlv remembered people who sud­
denly appear from the world of the dead and visit m e."' Although it
may not necessarily be the case in Junzaburo Nishiwaki’s poem, for
me, Izutsu says, “ the phantom m an ” cannot help but be the living
dead. “ Now, I meet him [Ikeda] only as ‘the phantom man, ” Izutsu
writes. “A strange space opens up there where the two of us, on differ­
ent levels of existence, intimately elasp hands and are able to talk to
one another.”4 So vivid is the experience for Izutsu that it evokes the
sensual expression “ intimately elasp hands and . . . talk to one another.”
Conferring the flesh of W O R D on a reality that goes bevond the five
senses — isn’t that what Izutsu believed the philosopher’s mission to be?
Had that not been the case, there w'ould have been no positive rea­
son for him to go so far as to write on a subject that was bound to be
misinterpreted.
I learned of Izutsu’s death from the newspaper. I distinctly recall
even now how little attention was paid to it. I bought all the national
papers, but none of them bad anything more than a formal announce­
ment. Some time would pass before Havao Kawai and Ryotaro Shiba
wrote moving tributes, but thev were the exception; it would be fair
to sav that the media greeted this news with silence. T h e length of
an obituary does not, of eonrsc, say anything dircetly about a person’s
achievements. Many outstanding individuals have passed away quietly,
without am' fanfare. And vet the enormous sense of incongruity I felt at
the time would become the direct motivation behind the writing of the
present book. As I look back, no small amount of time has elapsed since
this plan first took shape. What I have intensely felt during the writing
process is the significance and the difficulty of "reading” as opposed to
writing. Indeed, this feeling has allowed me to cherish the hope that
the situation of being forced to “ read” might, bv some invisible power,
enable me to “ write” something about this profound scholar.
There is an cssav bvToshihiko Izutsu entitled “ T o m u ’ to ‘kaku’”
(“ Reading” and “Writing” ).s ITis whole life can be summed up in those
two words. “To read” is to come in direct contact with the Real World;
“ to write” is nothing less than to put one’s experiences of that world into
practice. As I was writing this book, w'hat stood out were the two guises
of Toshihiko Izutsu, the reader and the writer. “ From bevond a distant
time, thousands of years ago, the voice of some gigantic thing came into
this breast, thunderously overpowering the circumambient noise”6—
reading this sentence at the beginning of Shin pi tetsugakn w'as mv
first encounter w'ith Toshihiko Izutsu. Although I had previously read
isnrcimu tetsugakn no genzo (1980; The original image of Islamic philos­
ophy) and Ishiki to honshitsu (1983; Consciousness and essence), I was
so busy follow ing the words that I had been unable to get a true sense of
w'lio Toshihiko Izutsu the philosopher really w'as. I remember even now
the shock of that moment; it w'as a feeling of having literally collided
with something. Flic reading process did not go smoothly, how'cvcr,
and a long time w'ould he needed before I finished Shin pi tetsugakn.
The book refused to let me turn the page; the language demands that
the reader stop —many days like this were to follow'. It may only he my
ow'n arbitrary impression, but I felt the same sort of thing with Rilke’s
Duino Elegies. In short, it w'as not at the level of a person searching for
the words on one’s own initiative, but rather the experience of the w?ords
appearing and the person only being allowed to observe them.
There is an extremely interesting entry in F.R. Curtins’ book diary.
It happened w'hcn lie was preparing to w'ritc his w'ork on Balzac. While
cheeking contemporary critiques of Balzae, he knew there was one in
G oethe’s diary, but found it extremely difficult to get hold of the text.
One day, when he was nearly at his wit’s end, he bought a sausage at a
roadside stand, and there, in the paper used to wrap it, was the passage
from Goethe he had been looking for. “ In Zeiten geistiger Hoehspan-
nung kom m en die D in ge zu einem , ohne daB man sieh darum
bemiiht. Ieh habe diese Erfahrung widerholt bestiitigt” (In times of
high mental tension, things have eome to me without anv effort on my
part. I have had this experience corroborated repeatedly ), he writes,"
recalling times in his life when he had been guided by a phenomenon
reminiscent of Jung’s svnehronicitv.
During the time I was gathering together Toshihiko Izutsu’s unpub­
lished papers that were included in Yoniu to kciku, and even while I was
writing the present book, similar experiences happened to me many
times. I would find material not just in library' stacks or journal reposi­
tories but also in books easuallv picked up in second-hand bookstores.
One incident I particularly' remember is mv encounter with Yoshinori
Moroi, whom I dealt with in Chapter Four. Moroi was both a believer
in Tenri-kvo who attempted to lay the basis for a Tenri-kyo theology' and
a remarkable religious philosopher, but at the time I decided to serial­
ize this book, I had never even heard Moroi’s name before. I learned of
his works quite bv accident and decided to devote a chapter to the rela­
tionship between Moroi and Izutsu. It w as not because I had any' sort of
ties with Tenri-kyo. Far from it; I had never even read Ofuclesaki (1900;
T he Tip of the Writing Brush) or Mikagurci-uta (Songs for the service).
Moroi died at the age of fortv-six in 1961; this year is the fiftieth
anniversary of his death. He passed away before any of his works as a
religious philosopher wrere published. Whenever I read Moroi’s books,
the suffering that preceded his death always came to mind, and mv
heart ached as I read him. For some reason, I could not shake off that
feeling even when I was reading works from the period before he v'as
aware of his illness. At the same time, how'ever, M oroi’s writings also
strongly' eonvey'ed a feeling of “ resurrection.” Darkness exists, but the
light envelops it— I can vividly reeall even now’ the solid sense of this
that virtually dominated me at the time. Moroi taught me that the
question of death and the dead has different dimensions.
 Shortly after Chapter hour came out, my wife, Keiko, died. Just
after 1 had finished writing Chapter One, she, who had seemed so
health)' at the time serialization began, received confirmation that the
cancer she had first been diagnosed with in 1999 had recurred. She was
told at the time that she had only six months to live. 1 wrote Chapters
d u o and Three while searching for a cure. Around the time I started
Chapter Four, visible changes were ahead)' occurring in her body. 1
don’t know' how many times I thought 1 would stop writing, but she
never asked me to. What she teared more than anything else was that
her illness would interfere with mv work and mv writing activities. “ I
will do everything I can to get better,” she said, “ so keep on working.”
She even told me she was happier when 1 was working than when I was
by her side. If a social obligation can be fulfilled simply by enduring, 1
would say that this book has been a joint work.
When her condition moved into its terminal stages and she was no
longer able to move about freely, no one, except for a very few people,
knew' of her illness, not even her parents or other close family members.
She refused to let them know'. She hated the idea that others might
suffer on her account and would not allow' that to happen. While she
was fighting the disease, she never stopped smiling or expressing her
gratitude. That never changed even when she had to put up with several
kilograms of ascitic fluid and a pleural effusion so severe it became dif­
ficult for her to breathe. When I told her it was all right to let me know
when she was in pain, she replied, “ If I put my pain into words, I don’t
think you’d be able to bear it.” And when I asked how she could keep
on smiling at times like this, she answered, “ Because it’s the only thing
that I can do for you now.” Snell was the collaboration with which this
book was written. That collaboration continues even now' that she has
become a “ phantom woman.”

Man)- hands arc actually involved in the production of a single

book. rbhis book got its start when I proposed serializing it in A lita Bun-
gaku (Mita Literature) to editor-in-chief Muncya Kato and received his
ready consent. I was also fortunate to be blessed with many good readers
during the serialization process. Had I not been given the opportunity
to publish and provided with readers, this rash venture of mine would
never have been realized. I w ould like onee again to extend mv deepest
thanks to the editorial staff at A litci Bungaku and everyone else who
supported me while this w'ork w as being serialized.
In addition, w'hile I was w riting, I had a number of important
encounters. 1 w'as able to obtain valuable suggestions as a result of my
conversations on several occasions with four people—Toshihiko Izut-
su ’s wife, Tovoko; Yoshitsugu Saw'ai, wrho w'as aequainted with him;
Takashi hvami, w-ho catalogued Izutsu’s library, compiled his bibli­
ography and laid the foundations for the study of Izutsu; and Daijiro
Kaw'ashima, w'ho took the lecture notes for Izutsu’s “ Introduction to
Linguistics” course. Let me take this opportunity to formally express
my heartfelt gratitude to them.
T he first time 1 met Hiroshi Sakagami, the director of Keio Uni­
versity Press who supported the publication of this book, was exactly
twenty years ago w'hen I w'as in the editorial office of A lita Bungaku,
w'hich was then still loeated on the Mita campus. Mr Sakagami at the
time w'as both a leading novelist and w'as also working as a businessman
for a large international eompanv. The fact that I am now’ w'riting while
engaged in a business that has nothing to do w’ith literature is strongly
due to M r Sakagami’s influence. “ It might be better not to write any­
thing until you’re thirty-fiye,” he told me. “ Look at people instead. And,
if possible, w'ork for a company that makes things.” What he was prob­
ably saying was don’t w rite from your head. Having been so advised, I
did not w'rite mv first serious w'ork until 2006, when I was thirty-eight.
Now', as I combine w'riting w'ith a full-time job in just this w'av, I have
feelings of deep emotion and appreciation for his advice.
A w'riter is, in a w'av, like a farmer. Every day I am involved in a
business that deals with herbs, and, w'hen I w-rite, the aetivitv involves
cultivating the subject matter, “ the raw material,” in the soil of lan­
guage, tending to it, harvesting it and shipping it off. But these efforts
alone do not get the produet to the consumer. In between, the exis­
tence of eooks and grocers is indispensable. Cooks such as proofread­
ers, bookbinders and editors have been strong intermediary presences
in the production of this book. Being able to work with them has been
a truly happy event. By passing my writing bv them, I gained fresh
insight into what I was trying to saw Instead of saving how grateful I
am to have worked with them, I would like to say how honored I feel
to have had them as niv associates. In the future, through the efforts of
good sales personnel, I sincerely hope readers will acquire this hook.
T h e act of selling completes a work; that is because a text does not
come alive until it is read. If there are mistakes, the responsibility tor
the “ raw material” rests with the author. Given such recalcitrant mate­
rial, limits do inevitably arise that are naturally beyond the scope not
just of the grocers but of the cooks as well.
I will not cite anv names here, but, as I was writing, I always had
in mind several acquaintances of mine who are now in distress. Mv
hope is that this book will be read and understood by people like them
who are experiencing life's tribulations, f or the victims of the Japanese
earthquake and tsunami and others w'ho have lost those close to them,
I can only hope that the w'ords in this hook reach them. 'The responsi­
bility of literature, I believe, is not to reveal the truth; it is nothing less
than to be there for those who seek it.
Rvoko Katahara of Keio University Press wfas the editor in charge of
this hook. We have worked together several times before; in the present
work as well, she has carried out the entire process with great serious­
ness. I Ier efforts have transformed words into a book. As the one person
who was there with me at every step of the wav, I extend to her mv
heartfelt thanks.

Kisnke Wakamatsu
14 April 2011
 Chronology

This Chronology docs not list republicatious ol either jiipnnc.se- or

Faiglish-language works, with the exception ot M a h o m e t t o in 19S9.
Japanese lectures, conference papers, etc. that can he dated are
described in as much detail as possible, and the essays based on them
that were subsequently gathered together in book tonn are cited sepa­
rately. Where the title of a work was changed at the time of republica­
tion, the newer title is used (e.g. A r a b i y a t e t s u « a k u =A r a b i a t e t s u ^ a k u ) .
In the ease of 1 /ntsn’s foreign-language works, onlv the title of
books and those lectures given at the Eranos Conference that were
later expanded and rewised and published in Japanese are included
here; a complete listing of works bv lzutsu can be found in the bibliog­
raphy below. Readers should also consult the bibliography and curricu­
lum vitae compiled byTakashi Iwami and published in C o n s c i o u s n e s s
a n d R e a l i t y : S t u d i e s i n Al e m o n ’ o f T o s h i h i k o l z u t s u (lwanami Shotcn,

1998) and the B e k k a n (Supplement) to lzutsu’s selected works (Chiio

Koronsha, 1991-1993), which are the primary sources for an under­
standing ofToshihiko Izutsu’s achievements. These lists bring together
his major works in Japanese and English. 1 have been deeply indebted
to them in compiling the present Chronology.
Eisuke Wakamatsu

Where applicable, the translations used are the ones

1 T ra n sla to r's note:

given on the websites of theTovo Bunko’s Documentation Center for

Islamic Area Studies and CiNii (Scholarly and Academic Information
Navigator) of the National Institute of Informatics.)
* 9*4 ..
Born on 4 i\Iciv in Yotsuya, Tokyo, to father, Shintaro, and mother,
Shinko. Originally from Niigata Prefecture, Shintaro was the younger
son of a rice merchant. Deeply interested in Zen, a skilled calligrapher
and g o player, he loeed the noyels ot Natsmne Soseki. He made his
son, Toshihiko, from an early age read aloud in Chinese the Analects
of Confucius and such Zen classics as \ Y u M e n K u a n (The Gateless
Cate), L i n C h i L u (The Sav ings of Master Lin-Chi) and P i Y e n L u
(The Bine Cliff Records) and taught him his own unique method of
introspection.

1927 AGE 13
Izntsn enters the middle school affiliated with Aoyama Caknin Univer­
sity, founded by Protestant Christians of the Methodist denomination.
His inability to adapt to daily morning prayers develops into a psycho­
somatic disorder, and one day he vomits during the service. Thereafter,
however, he quickly begins to be cured of his antipathy to Christianity'
and develops an interest in it instead, Izutsu would later reflect that this
incident was his ur-expericnce with monotheism. Around this time, he
begins reading the works of junzaburo Nishiwaki.

1931 AGE 17
Completes the five-year curriculum in four years and graduates from
Aovama Cakuin. Enters the preparatory course for the Faculty of Eco­
nomies at Keio University. Meets Yasaburo Ikeda, who would become
a lifelong triend. Around this time, studies Russian with Yoshitaro
Yokemura in the night school of Tokyo University of Foreign Studies.
Long afterward, he would write of Yokemura that “he drew out . . . the
hidden depths of the Russian soul, and this moved me tremendously”
(19S0; “Shoshi o motomete’ /In search of the right teacher).

1934 AGE 2 0
l akes and passes the entrance exam for the Faculty of Tetters at Kyoto
Imperial University; the results are even posted in the newspaper but is
unable to matriculate because of a procedural problem (according to
Yasaburo Ikeda, \ l i t a s o d a c h i /Growing up in Mita). Having decided to

MO
 switch to the Lnglish Literature Department in Keio’s faculty of Letters,
celebrates with Ikeda and Morio Katd bv throwing their principles of
bookkeeping textbooks Irom Snkivabashi Bridge. After entering the fac­
ulty of Letters, though fascinated by the lectures of ethnologist Shinobu
Oriknehi, studies with Jnn/.ahnrd Nishiwaki as his academic adviser,
l/ntsu would later write that Nishiwaki was “the one and onlv mentor
in my life” (1982; “Tsuioku: Nishiw'aki Jnn/ahnrd ni manabu’VRcmi-
nisecnees: Studying with )un/aburd Nishiwaki). Lven after becoming
Nishiwaki’s student, l/ntsn continued to audit Orikuchi’s lectures and
tell Nishiwaki about them.

1935 AGE 21
In Januarv, contributes the prose poem “Philosoplna liaikon” (Philoso­
phy is image) to Yasaburd Ikeda’s litcrarv magazine, H i l o . Around this
time, translates T.S. Lliot’s T h e W a s t e L a n d and gives it to Ikeda.

1937 AGE 23
Graduates from the Lnglish Literature Department. Appointed a teach­
ing assistant in Keio’s faculty of Letters. Sharing Junzaburd Nishiwaki’s
office with him was Kumio Kurivagawa (a specialist in earlv Lnglish
literature). Around this time, gives the lectures on “the history of Greek
mvstieal thought” that would form the basis of S/////p/ t e t s u ^ a k u (1949;
Philosophy of mysticism).
Studies Hebrew at the Institute of Biblical Research headed bv Set-
suzo Kotsuji. There becomes acquainted with Masao Sekine (later, an
Old Testament scholar). Subsequently begins a Check and Arabic study
group with Sekine.
Makes the acquaintance ot Abdur-Rasheed Ibrahim, who teaches
Izutsu Arabic and becomes his spiritual guide to Islam. Although
Izutsu did not concert to Islam, Ibrahim loved him deeply and told
him, “You are a natural-born Muslim. Since you were a Muslim from
the time of vour birth, you are my son.”

1939 AGE 25
In September, “Saikin no Arabia gogaku: shinkan slidkai” (Contempo­
rary studies of Arabic: A review' of recent publications) appears, and in

Ml
 December, “Akkaclo-go no - m c i kobun ni tsuite” (On tbe syntax ot the
Akkadian particle - m a ) appears, both in tbe periodical G e n g o K e n k y u
(Journal of tbe Linguistic Society of Japan).
Around this time, Ibrahim introduces Izutsu to Musa Bigiev, who
becomes his teacher of Islamic theology and philosophy. He also meets
Sbumei Okawa about this time. Okawa has confidence in Izutsu and
puts him in charge of cataloguing two large series of works on Islam
purchased from the Netherlands.

1940 AGE 2 6
In August and September, “ZamafusharT no rinrikan” (Idees ethiques de
ZamakhsharT) appears in K a i k y d k e n (Islamic Area), the bulletin of the
Institute of the Islamic Area, and in October, “Arabia bunka no seikaku”
(A characteristic feature of Arabic culture) appears in S h i n A j i a (New
Asia), the bulletin of the Last Asian Economic Research Bureau. Becomes
acquainted with Shinji Maejima of the LALRB (later, a professor of
Islamic studies at Keio University) and deepens his friendship with him.

1941 AGE 2 7
In July, publishes A r a b i a s h i s o s h i (History of Arabic thought;
Hakubunkan) in the Koa Zensho (Asian Development series) under
the general editorship of Koji Okubo of the Institute of the Islamic Area.
This was his maiden work.

1942 AGE 2 8
In September, the Keio Institute of Philological Studies opens at the
suggestion of Junzaburo Nishiwaki. Izutsu becomes a research fellow.
In addition to Nishiwaki, those registered as research fellows include
such outstanding language scholars as Nobuhiro Matsumoto, Tsun-
etada Oikawa, Eiichi Kiyooka, Naoshiro Tsuji, Shiro Hattori, Yosliio
Ogaeri, Shosho Chino. Rintaro Kukuhara, Sanki Ichikawa, Seiji Ikumi
and Tsugio Sekiguehi. In October, Keio University sets up its Foreign
Language School and appoints Nishiwaki as the school’s first principal.
Izutsu “was given the freedom to accompany the teacher whom I liked
best of all and to set up the ioreign language courses that I liked best ot
all’’ (1980; “Dotei’’/Curriculum vitae). At the same Institute, he studies
 Sanskrit with Naoshird Tsuji and Tibetan with Tokan lada. Izutsu
lectured on Islamic philosophy. In the same month, publishes H i g a s h i
I n c l o n i o k e r u K a i k y d l i d s e i : G a i s e t s u ) (Islamic jurisprudence in hast

India: An overview; Ida Kcnkynjo |Last Asian Institute]).

1943 AC. Is 2 9
In July, gives a paper entitled “Kaikvd ni okeru keiji to risci” (Islamic
revelation and reasoning; published in September 1944) at a special
conference on philosophy sponsored by the Committee for the Devel­
opment of Sciences in japan. In October, writes “Toruko-go” (Turkish),
“Arabia-go” (The Arabic language). “I lindosutam-go” (Hindustani)
and “Tamiru-go” (Tamil) for S e k a i n o g e n g o (Languages of the world),
put out bv the Kcio Institute of Philological Studies.

1944 AGE 3 0
In June, writes “Kaikvd shinpishugi tetsugakusha Ibunu Arab! no son-
zairon” (rLhc ontology of the Islamic mvstic philosopher Ibn ‘Arab!;
7 e t s u g a k u [Philosophv ], put out bv the Mita Philosophical Society). In
November, contributes “Isuramu shisdshi” (Historv of Islamic thought),
“Mahomctto” (Muhammad) and “Arabia kagaku, gijutsu” (Arabian
science and technology) as a coauthor of S e i c i s e k a i s h i (World historv
of western Asia; Kobundo Shobo). Abdur-Rashccd Ibrahim dies. On 2
October, his father, Shintaro, dies.

1947 AGE 33
Around this time, reads Kdji Shirai’s translation of Sartre’s N civ s e e .
While convalescing from illness, writes “Girishia no shizen shinpishugi:
girisha tetsugaku no tanjo” (Greek nature mvsticism: The birth of Ch eek
philosophy); plans to publish it abandoned when the publisher goes
bankrupt. It w’ould later become the appendix to the first edition (1949)
of S h i n p i t e t s u g a k u and Part 1 of volume 1 in Child Kdronsha’s I z u t s u
T o s h i h i k o C h o s a k u s l u l (Selected works); hereafter = PPG.

1948 AGE 3 4
In March, “Roshia no naimenteki seikatsu: jukyuseiki bungaku no
seish insh iteki tenbd” (Interior life in Russia: A spiritual histoiy’perspective
 on ninetccnth-centurv literature; in Kosei [Individuality]) comes out. In
May, contributes Arabia tetsugaku, Kaikyd tetsugaku (Arabic philosophy
Islamic philosophy; Ilikari no Shobo) to volume 5 of Sekai Tetsugaku
Koza (Lectures in world philosophy; Izutsifs part of this joint work would
be combined with a revised version of Arabia shisdshi and published as
Isuranni shisdshi in 1975).
Around this time, becomes acquainted with Mitsuo Ucda, the head
of I likari no Shobo, who strongly encourages Izutsu to write Shinpi
tetsugaku (Philosophy of mysticism). While managing a publishing
house, Ueda wrote, as well as translated, works on philosophy. In addi­
tion to Ilikari no Shobo, he ran the Tctsugakudo Kyodan/Shinpido
(Religious Order of the Philosophic Way/Mystic Way), a religious cor­
poration, as well as a monastery and an academic institute affiliated
with it, the Tetsugaku Shudoin/Rogosu Jivu Daigaku (Philosophy
Monastcry/Logos Free University). Izutsu writes that without Ueda’s
“enthusiastic support and encouragement,” Shinpi tetsugaku would
never have seen the light of day.

1949 AGE 35
In Maw begins “Introduction to Linguistics” lectures (Daijiro Kaw'ashi-
ma’s lecture notes go on into the following year). In September, pub­
lishes Shinpi tetsugaku: Girishia no hu (Philosophy of mysticism: The
Greek part; Ilikari no Shobo), which be had written on his sickbed
“while coughing up blood.” Awarded the first Fukuzawa Prize and
the Gijuku Prize for that work. As sequels, plans a second volume on
Judaism and a third on Christian mysticism, and an advertisement for
them is issued, but w'hen I likari no Shobo goes bankrupt, the plans are
abandoned. In November, “Shi to shukyoteki jitsuzon: Kuroodcru-ron”
(Poetry and religious existence: On Claudel) appears in foseisen (Wom­
en’s Line). Musa Bigiev dies. On 15 August, Izutsu’s mother, Shinko,
dies.

1950 AGE 3 6
In September, publishes Arahia-go nvinnon (Introduction to Arabic
grammar; Keio Shuppansha). Appointed assistant professor in the Fac­
ulty of Letters, Keio University.
1951 AGIO 3 7
Publishes Roshia bungaku (Russian literature), part I in januarv and
part II in junc, as a textbook for a Keio University eorrespondeuee
eourse. In August, “Shinpisluigi no erosuteki keitai: Sei Bcruuaru-ron”
( I be nivstieism of St Bernard) appears in 'I'etsugaku (Philosophy).
I be later leetures in “lntroduetion to Linguistics” begin (and con­
tinue until 1936). Lecture notes taken bv the poet and writer ot Cath­
ode picture books, lliroko Murakami. Around this time, Ixutsu begins
bis translation of the Koran (completed in K)yS).

1952 AGIO 3 8
Marries Tovoko. In April, publishes Mahonietto (Muhammad) as a
volume in the Atene Bunko (Athens Library series; Kobundo). In Julv,
“Torusutoi ni okcru isliiki no mujunsei ni tsuitc” (On the paradoxical
nature of consciousness in dolstov) appears in Sanshokuki (Tricolour).
In November, contributes “I lindosutam-go” (I lindustani) to volume
1 of the jointly authored Sekai gen go gaiselsu (Overview of world
languages).

1953 AGIO 3 9
In February, publishes Rosliiateki ningen: kindai Roshia bungakushi
(Russian humanity: A history of modern Russian literature; Kobundo).
That spring, meets M.C. O’Arcv, who had come to japan at the imi­
tation of the Japan Committee for International Interchange affiliated
with the International House of japan, and asks permission to translate
r\he Mind and I leart of Love. In August, “Kurodcru no shiteki son/airon”
(Claudel's poetic ontology) appears in Alita Bnngaku (Mita Literature).
In September, Shinobu Orikuchi dies.

1954 AGIO 4 0
Appointed professor in the Faculty of Letters, Keio University.

1955 AGIO 41
In May, contributes “Arabia-go” (The Arabic language) to volume 2 of
the jointly authored Sekai gengo gaiselsu (Overview' of world languages).
That summer, conducts a seminar on semantics at Kyoto University.
1956 AG 1C 4 2
Publishes his first English-language monograph, Language and Magic:
Studies in the Magical Function of Speech (Keio Institute of Philological
Studies).

*957 AGE43
In March, publishes his translation of D’Arcv’s book under the title
Ai 110 rogosu to patosu (The logos and pathos of love; Sobunsha). In
November, publication begins on japan’s first translation of the Koran
from the Arabic original (lwanami Bunko; completed the follow ing
year in June). In December, “Mahometto to Koran” (Muhammad and
the Koran) appears in Bunko (Library). 'That month, Shumci Okawa
dies.

1958 AGE 44.

In April, “Kigo katsudo toshite no gengo” (Language as a semiotic activ­
ity) appears in Sanshokuki (Tricoleur), and in Julv, “Koran to Senva
ichiva monogatari” (rPbc Koran and The thousand and One Nights)
appears in Bunko (Library).

1959 AGE 4 5
Receives a fellowship from the Rockefeller foundation to studv abroad
for two years, bis first foreign travel. Stays in Lebanon for six months.
In October, his report from abroad, “Rebanon kara Beiruto nite” (Lrom
Lebanon: In Beirut) appears in Mita Hyoron (Mita Review). Awarded a
doctorate in literature from Keio University. Publishes 'the Structure of
the Ethical Terms in the Koran: A Study in Semantics (Keio Institute of
Philological Studies).

1960 AGE 4 6
Lives in Cairo, Lgvpt, as a continuation from the previous year of his
studies abroad. In August, visits Aleppo, Svria. In October, meets Leo
Weisgcrbcr in Germane. Subsequentlv arrives in Montreal via Paris.
Begins research at the Institute of Islamic Studies, McGill University
ACK 47
Attends the American Acaclcmv of Religion annual meeting in New
V)rk. With Keio colleague Shinji Maejima follows in the footsteps of
Kmcrson and Thoreau in the Boston suburb of Concord. In July, his
report from abroad “Bosuton nitc” (In Boston) appears in Mita I Ivdron
(Mita Review’). Drawing on his experiences in the Islamic world, sets
out to revise his translation of the Koran (Iwanami Bunko).
From December to the following june, gives special lectures at
McGill's Institute of Islamic Studies.

AGE 4 8
Around this time, the linguist Hisanosukc Ixui offers Izutsu a position at
Kyoto University. As a result, in june, Keio University reorganizes the Insti­
tute of Philological Studies, launches the Keio Institute of Cultural and
Linguistic Studies and appoints Izutsu professor. The Institute’s first direc­
tor is Nobuhiro i\latsumoto (Oriental history and folklore studies). A small
research center, the onlv full-time professors seconded to it from the Fac­
ulty of Letters are Izutsu and Naoshiro Tsuji (ancient Indian philosophy).
Leaves to take up the position of visiting professor at McGill University
(until 1968). Becomes acquainted therewith Mehdi Mohaghcgh (Iranian
specialist in Islamic studies). The two men will go on to write a num­
ber of joint works including the edition of a text by iqth-ccnturv Islamic
scholastic philosopher Sabzaw’arT. Also, at the same Institute, makes the
acquaintance of Hermann Landolt. Looking back on this time, Izutsu
would write, “In any event, 1 was urged on by what seemed like an unstop­
pable existential impulse’’ (1980; “Dotei’VCurrieulum vitae).

AGE 5 0
Publishes God and Man in the Koran: Semantics of the Koranic Welt­
anschauung (Keio Institute of Cultural and Linguistic Studies). In
December, completes his revised translation of the Koran.

AGE 51
Publishes The Concept of Belief in Islamic Theology: A Semantic
Analysis of Imdn and Islam (Keio Institute of Cultural and Linguistic
Studies).
1966 AGE 52
* *

Publishes Ethico-Religious Concepts in the Qur'an (McGill University

Press) and A Comparative Study of the Key Philosophical Concepts in
Sufism and Taoism (Keio Institute of Cultural and Linguistic Studies).
The second volume of the latter work comes out the following year.
Revised, expanded and retitled Sufism and Taoism: A Comparative
Study of Key Philosophical Concepts, it was published by Iwanami Sho-
ten in 1983 and the University of California Press in 1984. It is Izutsu’s
major English-language work.

1967 AGE 53
In June, “Tetsugakuteki imiron” (Philosophical semantics) appears in
the bulletin of the Keio Institute of Cultural and Linguistic Studies.
That summer, attends the 36th Eranos Conference for the first time
as an official lecturer; lectures on “The Absolute and the Perfect Man
in Taoism.” Becomes the second Japanese participant at Eranos since
Daisetz Suzuki. At this time, meets historian of religion Mireea Eliade
and deepens a friendship with him.

1968 AGE 5 4
Resigns as professor in the Eaculty of Letters at Keio University.

1969 AGE 55
Is officially appointed professor at McGill Universitv (until 1973)- Fol­
lowing the opening of the Tehran branch of McGill s Institute of Islamic
Studies, moves to Iran with Mehdi Mohaghegh. Up until the preceding
year, he used to spend six months in Montreal and six months in Japan,
but, after this move, makes 'Tehran his main base for the next ten vears.
That summer, takes part in the 38th Eranos Conference, lecturing on
“The Structure of Selfhood in Zen Buddhism” (later revised as “Zenteki
ishiki no flrudo kozo” [ The field structure of Zen consciousness] and
published in Kosumosu to anchi kosumosu [Cosmos and anti-cosmos]).
In June, “Koran honyaku gojitsudan” (Reminiscences of translating the
Koran) appears in AUta IIvoron (Mita Review). Attends the Fifth East-
West Philosophers’ Conference in Honolulu and lectures on “ The Basic
Structure of Metaphysical "Thinking in Islam.”

-> *■>
*>•>
 That winter, gives a lecture entitled “An Analysis (TWahdat al-Wu-
jud" (later revised and included in Isnrdnm tetsugaku no genzo [The
original image of Islamic philosophyl) at the Institute of Asian and
African Studies, Hebrew University, Jerusalem, attended bv Cershom
Scholem, an authority on Oabbalfih studies; atomic physicist and lead­
ing expert on Maimonidcs, Shlomo Pines; and Shmuel Samhurskv, a
specialist on Neoplatonic natural philosophy and theories of time.

1970 AGE 156

That summer, takes part in the ^91h Kranos Conference, lecturing
on “Sense and Nonsense in Zen Buddhism.” Is accompanied bv Iwao
Takahashi, a pioneering researcher on Rudolf Steiner.

1971 AGE 5 7
Becomes a member of the Institut International de Philosophic. Pub­
lishes The Concept and Reality of Existence (Keio Institute of Cultural
and Linguistic Studies).

1972 AGE 5 8
That spring, begins a study group on Ibn ‘Arabl’s Fusus al-hikam
(Bezels of Wisdom) with five students at the University of Tehran.
Members of the stud}' group, which continued until 1977, included
William Cluttick, who would later become a well-know’n Ibn ‘Arab!
scholar, and future Islam scholars Nasrollah Pourjavadv and Chol-
amreza Aavani. On 20 and 24 Mav, lectures on “New’ Creation” at
Tehran University. In August, “Ainu-ru-Kuzato I lamadani no shiso
ni okeru shinpishugi to gengo no tagiteki voho no mondai” (Mvsti-
eism and the linguistic problem of ec|uivocation in the thought of
7\yn Al-Qudat al-Hamadanl) (trails. Toshio Kuroda) appears in Ori-
ento (Orient). That summer, takes part in the 41st Kranos Confer­
ence, lecturing on “The Klimination of Color in Kar Kastern Art and
Philosophy.” In September, attends the International Conference of
Medieval Philosophy, in Madrid, Spain. After the conference, travels
to Cordoba with Islamic scholar William Montgomery Watt and oth­
ers. In November, hni no kdzo: Koran ni okern shukxo dotoku gainen
no hunseki (The structure of meaning: An analysis of ethieo-religious
 concepts in the Koran, a translation of T h e S t r u c t u r e o f t h e E t h i c a l
» »>

T e r m s i n t h e K o r a n bv Shin’ya Makino [Shinsensha]) is published.

19 7 3 AGE 5 9
In February, “Tozai bnnka no koryn” (Fast-West cultural exchange)
appears in M i t a H y o r o n (Mita Review). That summer, takes part in the
42nd Franos Conference, lecturing on “The Interior and Fxterior in
Zen Buddhism.”

1974 AGE 60
In Januarv, “Kaikvo tetsugaku shokan” (Perspectives on Islamic philos­
ophy) appears in T o s h o (Books). That summer, takes part in the 43rd
Franos Conference, lecturing on “The Temporal and A-Temporal
Dimensions of Reality in Confucian Metaphysics.” Awarded a doctor­
ate from the University of Tehran.

1975 AGE 6 1
In February, publishes I s u r a m u s h i s o s h i (History of Islamic thought;
hvanami Shoten); that same month, “Zen ni okcru gengoteki imi no
mondai” (Problems of linguistic meaning in Zen) appears in R i s o
(Ideal). That summer, takes part in the 44ml Eranos Conference, lec­
turing on “Naive Realism and Confucian Philosophy.” Appointed a
professor at the Imperial Iranian Academy of Philosophy (until January
1979 and the outbreak of the Iranian revolution).

1976 AGE 6 2
That summer, takes part in the 45th Franos Conference, lecturing on
“The I C l u n g Mandala and Confucian Metaphysics." At the World of
Islam Festival, held in London, lectures on Hua Yen philosophy. That
summer, visits Todaiji.

1977 AGE 6 3
Publishes T o w a r d a P h i l o s o p h y o f / e n B u d d h i s m (Iranian Academy of
Philosophy). In October, takes part in an international symposium in
Tehran, lecturing on “Bcvond Dialogue: A Zen Point of View" (later
translated as “Taiwra to hitaiwa [Dialogue and non-dialogue] and
 included in Ishiki to honshitsu [1983; Consciousness and essence]).
Revisits Todaiji with Iranian specialist on architecture Nader Ardalan.

1978 AGE 64
In januarv, colloquy w'ith philosopher Tomonobn lniamiehi entitled
“Tozai no tetsugakn” (Oriental and occidental philosophies) appears in
Shiso (Thought). As general editor of Iwanami’s Classics ol Islam series,
publishes Sonzai ninshiki no niichi: sonzai to honshitsu ui tsuite (The path
of ontological cognition: On existence and essence; a translation ofMulla
Sadia’s Kitah al-Mashahr) in March, and Runn goroku (The discourses
of Rumf; a translation of Runu’s lain mil fllii) in May, and writes detailed
commentaries on both works. Publication of Sulirawardf's Kitah llikmat
al-ishrclq (Philosophy of Illumination) is also planned for the same scries
but never realized.
That summer, takes part in the 47th Kranos Conference, lecturing
on “The Field Structure ofTimc in Zen Buddhism.”

1979 AGE 6 5
In januarv, “Taiwa to hitaiwa: Zen niondo ni tsuite no ichikosatsu”
(Dialogue and non-dialogue: Some thoughts on Zen mondos) appears
in Shiso (Thought). In February, returns to japan via Athens having
left Tehran on a japan Airlines rescue mission because of the Iranian
revolution. With this event as a turning point, Izutsu says, his life
entered its third stage. On 2 2 and 29 Maw lectures on “Isuramu tet-
sugaku no genten” (The origin of Islamic philosophy) at the lwanami
Citizen Lecture scries (published in the August and October issues
of Shiso [Thought] as “Isuramu tetsugakn no genten: shinpishugiteki
shutaisei no kogito” (The origin of Islamic philosophy: Cogito of the
subjccthood of mvsticism). In jnne, colloquv with historian Shinobu
lwamura entitled “Isuramu sekai to wa nani ka” (WTat is the Islamic
world?) appears in Chud Koron (Central Review7). That summer, takes
part in the 48th Kranos Conference, lecturing on “Between Image
and No-lniagc: bar Kastcrn Wa\s of Thinking.” In October, publishes
Isuramu seitan (The birth of Islam; jinbnn Slioin). In December,
“Honshitsu chokkan: Isuramu tetsugakn dansho” (Wescnersehaiumg:
A brief note on Islamic philosophy) appears in Riso (Ideal). That same

Ml
 month, lectures on “Oriental
«*
Philosophy and the Contemporary Sit-
uation of Human Existence” at the Keio-sponsored international
symposium, “Dimensions of Global Interdependence.’’ Lectures on
“Matter and Consciousness in Oriental Philosophies’’ at the Colloque
de Cordoue (included in Ishiki no henreki [ The journey of conscious­
ness; lam a Sluippan], the translation of the conference proceedings,
Science et conscience). Contributes a tribute to Kaiso no Kuriyagawa
Fumio (Recollections of Fumio Kurivagawa), a collection of essays in
Kuriyagawa’s memory.

1980 AGE 6 6
Between Januarv and June, contributes a series of essays to Mita
Hyoron (Mita Review): “Kokusai kaigi, gakusai kaigi” (International
conferences, interdisciplinary conferences), “Dotei” (Curriculum
vitae), “Keio kokusai shinposhiumu shokan” (Reflections on the Keio
international symposium), “Musha shugyo” (A warrior’s training),
“Shoshi o motomete” (In search of the right teacher), “Kokusai kaigi”
(International conference) and “Shi to hoyfl” (Teachers, colleagues
and friends). On 23 April, lectures on “Isuramu to wa nani ka” (What is
Islam?) at the Japan Cultural Congress (published in the July issue of
Child Koron (Central Review) as “Isuramu no futatsu no kao” [The hvo
faces of Islam]). In May, publishes Isuramu tetsugaku no genzo ( The
original image of Islamic philosophy; Iwanami Shoten). In June, begins
serialization of “Ishiki to honshitsu” (Consciousness and essence; in
Shiso [Thought], until February 1982); that same month, a three-way
colloquy with philosopher of religion Shizuteru Ueda and Oabbalah
specialist Tadahiro Onuma entitled “Shinpishugi no konpon kozo:
Isuramu tetsugaku no genzo ni tsuite” (The fundamental structure of
mvstieism: On Isuramu tetsugaku no genzo) appears in Riso (Ideal).
That summer, takes part in the 49th Eranos Conference, lecturing on
“The Nexus of Ontological Events: A Buddhist View of Reality.” Writes
“Daiikkvu no kokusaijin” (A first-class cosmopolitan), a blurb for the
Complete Works of Daisetz Suzuki.
1981 AGF 6 7
In January, a colloquy with historian Slumtard ltd entitled “Isuramu
huninci no gendaiteki igi” ( The contemporary significance of Islamic
ciyilization) appears in Kkononiisuto (Economist). In March, con­
tributes a preface to the Japanese translation of R.A. Nicholson’s The
Idea of Personality in Sufism {Isurdmu ui okeru perusona no rincn\
trans. Kieoshi Nakamura). In December, publishes Isuramu huuka
(Islamic culture; lwanami Shoten). 27-30 Noyember, attends an inter­
national eolloc|uium, “Lcs crises spirituclles et intellcctuclles dans le
mondc contcmporain,” sponsored b\’ the Academy of the Kingdom of
Morocco. Publishes The Theory of Beauty in the Classical Aesthetics of
Japan (co-authored with Toyoko Izutsu; Martinus Nijhoff).

1982 AGE 6 8
Between 18 January and 29 March giees ten lectures entitled “Koran o
yomu” (Reading the Koran) as the first lwanami Citizen Seminar. In June,
Junzaburo Nisbiwaki dies. In July, Yasaburo Ikeda dies. That summer,
takes part in the 51st Kranos Conference, lecturing on the “Celestial
Journey; Mythopocsis and Metaphysics.” Meets Mircca Eliadc again at
this conference; this would be their last meeting; it would also be the last
Eranos Conference that Izutsu would attend. Becomes professor emer­
itus at Keio Uniyersity. In October, “Tsuioku: Nishiw'aki Junzaburo ni
manabu” (Reminiscences: Studying with Junzaburo Nisbiwaki) appears in
Kigoseinen (The Rising Generation). In Noyember, reeeiyes the Mainiebi
Publishing Culture Aw'ard for Isuramu hunka (Islamic culture). In Decem­
ber, elected a member of tbe Japan Academy. At the request of Mutsuo
Yanasc, lectures at tbe Institute of Asian Cultures, Sophia Uniyersity.

1983 AGF 6 9
In January, “Derida gciisho” (A Derridian phenomenon) appears in
Shinkan no me (A look at recent publications). The same month, pub­
lishes Ishiki to honshitsu (Consciousness and essence; lwanami Shoten).
In February, ‘“Gen’ei no hito’: Ikeda Yasaburo o omou” (Remembering
 Yasaburo Ikeda, “the phantom man”) appears in Chiio Koron (Central
* ^

Review). In May, “‘Yoimf to ‘kaku’” (“Reading” and “writing”) appears

in Riso (Ideal). In June, publishes Koran o yomu (Reading the Koran;
Iwanami Shoten). That month, a three-wav colloquy with James I lillman
and Havao Kawai, “Yungu shinrigakn to Toyo shiso” (Jnngian psychology
and Oriental thought) appears in Shiso (Thought), translated by Toyoko
Izutsu. Also that month, meets Jacques Derrida in Paris. Derrida writes
“Lettre a un ami japonais” (Letter to a Japanese friend), an essay in letter
form dated 10 My> based on their previous month’s conversation (there is
a translation of this letter by Keizaburo Maruvama in the April 1984 issue
of Shiso). In July, contributes “Nishiwaki sensei to gengogaku to watashi”
(Professor Nishiwaki, linguistics and 1 ) as an insert to the supplement
to Junzaburo Nishiwaki’s collected works. In September, “Dcrida no
naka no ‘Yudavajin’” (The “Jew” in Derrida) appears in Shiso. On 23
December, lectures on “Shfaha Isuramu” (Shi ite Islam) at The lndustrv
Club of Japan. Awarded the Yomiuri Prize for Literature for Ishiki to
honshitsu. Receives the Asahi Prize (Asahi Shimbunsha). Ryotaro Shiha
also awarded the same prize this year; first meeting of the two.

j9 8 4 AGE 70
In March, “Gogaku kaigen” (Mv initiation into the mysteries of lan­
guages) comes out in Michi: Shown no hitori ichiwashu (Pathways: One
person one story, a Showa-period anthology). That month, “Slnaha
Isuramu: Slnateki junkyosha ishiki no yurai to sono engckisei” (Shf’itc
Islam: The origin of the Shl’ite martyr complex and its theatricality)
appears in Sekai (World); contributes “Bunka to gengo arayashiki: ihunk-
akan taiwa no kanosei no mondai o megutte” (Culture and linguistic
alava-consciousness: On the question of the possibility' of cross-cultural
dialogue) to Genclai humnei no kiki to jiclai no seishin (The crisis of con­
temporary' civilization and the spirit of the times), an international forum
to mark the 70th anniversary' of the founding of the publishing company,
Iwanami Shoten. In April, “Tansii, fukusu ishiki” (Consciousness of sin­
gular and plural) appears in Bungaku (Literature), and “‘Kaku’: Derida
no ckurichuru-ron ni chinande” (“Writing”: Apropos of Derrida’s the­
ory' of ecriture) appears in Shiso (Thought). ’That month, writes a blurb
for Mark Taylor’s Erring: A Postmodern A!theology (later translated as
Sainayou byToyoko Izutsu; Iwanami Sliotcn). In early spring, invited lw
tbe Institute of Ismaili Studies, London, to lecture over a tbree-montb
period on the reception of ancient Indian philosophy in Islamic phi­
losophy. In June, “Sufizumu to gen go tetsugaku” (Sufism and linguis­
tic philosophy) and a colloquy with Nermann Landolt, “Sufizumu to
misutishizumu” (Sufism and mysticism) appear in Shiso. In October,
“Konton: mu to yu no aida” (Chaos: Between being and nothingness)
appears in Kokugo Tsushin (Japanese Language News). On 26 Decem­
ber, gives a special lecture at the 17th Conference on Japanese Ksoteric
Buddhism held at Mount Kova, entitled “Ccngo tetsugaku toshite no
Shingon” (Shingon: A philosophy of language), published the following
March in Mikkydgaku kenkyu (Journal of Ksoteric Buddhist Studies).

AGE 71
In January, a colloquy with Shusaku Kudo, “Bungaku to shiso no sliinsd”
(The depths of literature and thought) appears in Sekai (World). In Kcb-
ruarv, “hni bunsetsu riron to Kukai: Shingon niikkvo no gengo tctsnga-
kuteki kanosei o saguru” (Kukai and the theory of semantic articulation:
Exploring the linguistic philosophical potential of Shingon esoteric Bud­
dhism), an expanded and revised version of “Gengo tetsugaku toshite
no Shingon,” appears in Shiso (Thought). In July and September, “Ji-ji
muge /ri-ri mugc: sonzai kaitai no at0” (The world of‘non-hindrance’:
After/traccs of ontological deconstruction) appears in Shiso. In Novem­
ber, “Mita j icla i: Sarutoru tetsugaku to no deai” (I lie Mita years: My
encounter with Sartre’s philosophy) appears in Mila Bungaku (Mita
Literature). In December, publishes hni no fukanii e (To the depths of
meaning; hvanami Slioten).

AGE 72
In January, publishes a collection of eolloquies, Kichi no claiza (Bezels of
wisdom; hvanami Slioten). In March and April, “Sozo fudan: Tovdteki
jikan isliiki no genkei” (Perpetual creation: A basic pattern of Oriental
time consciousness) appears in Shiso (Thought). On 12 May, at a reg­
ular meeting of the Japan Academy, lectures on the “assassins” of the
Ismaili sect; published in the July and August issues of Shiso as “Isu-
mairuha ‘ansatsudan’: Aramutojosai no niyutosu to shiso” ('The Ismaili
 Assassins: Mvtlios and thought around the Alainut castle). In Septeiu-
* *

her, “Eriade aito: ‘lndo taiken’ o megutte” (Mourning Eliade: On his

“Indian experiences”) appears in Yuriika (Eureka). From the 13th to the
17th of December, takes part in an international symposium held at and
sponsored by Tcnri University, lecturing on “Cosmos and Anti-cosmos.”
Writes blurbs for the collected works of Plotinus and the selected works
of Keiji Nishitani.

1987 AGE 7 3
In January, “Kizuku: shi to tetsugaku no kiten” (Becoming aware: The
origins of poetry and philosophy) appears in Shiso (Thought). In March,
“Kosumosu to anehi kosumosu: Toyo tetsugaku no tachiba kara” (Cos­
mos and anti-cosmos: From the standpoint of Oriental philosophy)
appears in Shiso. In April, “Fiikei” (Landscape) appears in Gekkan
Kancigawa (Kanagawa Monthly).

1 9 8 8 AGE 7 4
Becomes a member of the editorial committee for the lwanami lecture
series on Oriental thought, for which, in January, he writes, “Cliusei
Yudaya tetsugakushi ni okeru keiji to risei” (Reason and revelation in
the history of medieval Judaic philosophy), and, in October, “Gengo
genslio toshite no ‘keiji’” (“Revelation” as a linguistic phenomenon);
“Avisenna, GazarT, Averoesu ‘horaku’ ronso: ‘tetsugaku no horaku’ to
‘horaku no horaku’ o megutte” (Disputes among Avicenna, GazarT
and Averroes: Concerning “destruetio philosophorum” and “destrnetio
destruetionis”). In August, “Zenteki ishiki no fTrudo kozo” (The field
structure of Zen consciousness), an expanded version of his 1969 Fra-
nos lecture, “The Structure of Selfhood in Zen Buddhism,” appears in
Shiso. In November, a colloquy with Shotaro Yasuoka, “Shiso to gei-
jutsu” (Thought and Art) appears in Alita Bungaku (Mita Literature).
Writes a blurb for the selected works of philosopher and historian of
science Torataro Shimomura.

1989 AGE 7 5
In April, contributes a long entry on “Toyo shiso” (Oriental thought) to
Konsaisu zoseiki shiso jiten (Concise dictionary ofzoth-eenturv thought).
 In May, returns to and publishes the original version of Alahometto
(Muhammad; Kodansha Gakujutsu Bunko). In June, “TATTVAM AS1
(nanji wa sore nari); Bavajldo Basutaim ni okeru perusona tenkau no
shiso” (TATTVAM ASI [Thou art that]: The idea of change of persona
in Bavajldo Basutamf) appears in Shisd (Thought). In julv, publishes
Kosinnosu to anchi kosinnosu (Cosmos and anti-cosmos; Iwanami Slioten).

1990 AG Is 7 6
In Januarv, “Mavatcki sekai ninshiki: funiiehigenronteki Vedanta no
shii kdzo o megutte” (Cognition of a A/c7 vc7 -like world: On the thought
structure of Advaita Vedanta) appears in Shisd (Thought). Becomes
general editor of Kranosu sdsho (Eranos vearbooks; lleibonsha). In
Julv, contributes “Eranosu sdsho no hakkan ni saishite: kanshusha no
kotoba” (On the occasion of the publication of the Kronas yearbooks:
Words from the editor). In December, writes “Imiron josetsu: Alinwa
no shisd no kaisetsu o kancte” (Introduction to semantic theory: With
a commentarv on Min wa no shisd), an exegesis of Akihiro Satake’s
Minwa no shisd (The intellectual aspects of folktales).

1991 AGE 7 7
In Maw publishes Choetsu no kotoba (Transcendental W'ORDs: God
and men in Islamic and Jewish philosophy; Iwanami Slioten). In Octo­
ber, publication begins on hutsu Toshihiko Chosaknshu (The selected
works of Toshihiko Izutsu; Child Koronsha; completed posthumously
in 1993). Eor volume 1, writes “Chosaknshu no kanko ni atatte” (On the
publication of my selected works).

1992 AGE 7 8
In April, greatlv revises and expands the first half of hni no kdzd ( The
structure of meaning), volume 4 of his selected works.
Late that autumn, engages in a colloquy —his last —with Ryotard
Shiba, “Nijisscikimatsu no vaini to hikari” (Darkness and light at the
end of the twentieth century; published the following January in Chad
Karon [Central Review]). Begins serialization oCTshiki no kcijijdgaku:
Daijo kishinron no tetsugaku” (Metaphysics of consciousness: The
philosophy of Awakening of Faith in the Mahdydna; in Child Kdron
 [Central Review]): “Sonzaironteki shiza” (Ontological perspectives)
in Mav, “Sonzairon kara ishikiron e” (From ontology to a theory of
eonseionsness) in August, and “Jitsuzon isliiki kino no naiteki mekani-
zuniii” (The internal meehanism of the function of existential aware­
ness) in October (the third installment would be the last thing he ever
wrote).

*993 AGE 79
On the morning of 7 January, after finishing writing, trips on a rug and
falls on his way to the bedroom. Gets up as though nothing has hap­
pened and calls out oyasumi (roughlv, “I’m going to lie down”) to his
wife, Tovoko; this would be his last word. Suffers a brain hemorrhage in
his bedroom at 9 AM and dies the same day at 4:45 PM in a Kamakura
hospital. At his own request, there was no funeral (burial at Engakuji,
Kamakura). In Mareh, Ishiki no keijijogaku: “Daijo kishiiiron” no tet-
sugciku (Metaphysics of eonseionsness: The philosophy of Awakening of
Faith in the Mahdyana; Chuo Koronsha) is published.

1994 1 YEAR AFTER HIS DEATH

In December, Creation and the Timeless Order of Things: Essays in
Islamic Mystical Philosophy (White Cloud Press) is published.

2001 8 YEARS AFTER HIS DEATH

In November, Izutsu’s translation of Lao-tsu: The Way and Its Virtue is
published as volume 1 of The Izutsu Library Series on Oriental Philos­
ophy (Kcio University Press).

2008 15 YEARS AFTER HIS DEATH

The lectures he gave at the Eranos Conference are published in two
volumes under the title The Structure of Oriental Philosophy: Collected
Papers of the Eranos Conference (Keio University Press). In August, an
international conference on his work on Islam, entitled “Japanese Con­
tribution to Islamic Studies: The Legaev of Toshihiko Izutsu,” is held in
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Since 2002, several of his English-language
monographs have been republished in Malavsia.
2OO9 16 YKARS AKTKR I IIS DEATH
In januarv, a special edition of Al i t a Bungaku [Mila Literature] is
devoted to Tosliiliiko lzutsu.

2011 18 YKARS AKTKR HIS DEATH

In March, publication begins on The Collected Works of Toshihiko
lzut.su (Keio lJni\rersitv Press), with L a n i n a ge a n d M a g i c : S t u d i e s in
t h e M a g i c a l F u n c t i o n o f S p e e c h as volume 1.
I
 Notes
In citating works in the notes, the short title has generalh been used. References to
hutsu Toshihiko Ghnsakushu (The seleeted works ofToshihiko l/.ntsn) will he abbre-
vi;ited as ITC.

P R K K A C K TO I Ills J APANKS K KDI TI ON

1. “Kaikvo ni okcru keiji to risei” (Islamic revelation and reasoning), in

N i p p o n S l i o g a k i t K e u k v i l l i o k o k u (Report of the Committee for the
Development of Sciences in japan) Tokushfi 12 (1944), 53-67; rept. in
Y o u n t to k a k u : h u t s u I ' o s l i i l t i k o e s s e i s l n l (Reading and writing: A collec­
tion of Toshihiko Izutsu’s essays), cd. Kisukc Wakamatsu (Tokyo: Keio
Gijnkn Daigakn Sluippankai, 2009), pp. 63-78, at 63.
2. A r a b i a s h i s o s l t i : K a i k v o s h i n g a k u to k a i k v o t e t s u g a k u (History of Arabic
thought: Islamic theology and Islamic philosophy) (Tokvo: I laknbimkan,
1941 )-
3. Both were published the following vear: “iMahometto” (Muhammad) in
S e t a s e k a i s h i (World history of western Asia), ed. Asa taro Yasaka (Tokvo:
Kobundo Sliobo, 1944), pp. 289-300, rept. in Y o u t u to k a k u , pp. 127­
146; and “Kaikvo shinpisluigi tetsugakusha Ibun ArabT no sonzairon”
(The ontology of the Islamic mystic philosopher Ibn ‘Arab!), l e t s u g a k u
(Philosophy) 25-26 (1944), 332-357; rept. in Y o u n t to k a k u , pp. 41-62.
4. S l t i t t p i t e t s u g a k u : G i r i s h i a it 0 b i t (Philosophy ol mysticism: The Greek
part) (Tokyo: Tetsugaku Shudoin, 1949; rept. Keio Gijuku Daigaku
Shuppankai, 2010); rew. ed., Kyoto: Jinbun Shoin, 1978; rept. D C 1 (Cliuo
Koronsha, 1991). Citations will be to the 2010 edition and 1 TC 1.
5. Ibid., p. 31 (ITC 1: 224).
6. R o s h i a t e k i n i t t g e n : k i n c l a i r o s l t i a b u t i g a k u s l i i (Russian humanity: A his­
tory of modern Russian literature) (Tokyo: Kobundo, 1953); new edition
(Hokuvosha, 1978); rept. ITC 3 (Cliuo Koronsha, 1992). Citations will be
to the 1978 edition and PTC 3.
7. K o r a n , 3 vols. (Tokyo: Iwanami Sliotcn, 1957-1958); rew. cd., 3 vols. (Tokvo:
Iwanami Shoten, 1964); rept. ITC 7 (Cliuo Koronsha, 1992).
 8. hurciimi seitan (The birth of Islam) (Tokyo: (inbun Shoin, 1979); rept. in
rrc 2 (Chuo Koronsha, 1993).
9. Isuramu tetsugaku no genzo (The original image of Islamic philosophy)
(Tokyo: Iwanami Shotcn, 1980); rept. in ITC 5 (Chuo Koronsha, 1992).
10. Ishiki to honshitsu: seishinteki Toro o motomete (Consciousness and
essence: In search of the spiritual Orient) (Tokyo: Iwanami Shotcn, 1983);
rept. as Ishiki to honshitsu: Toyoteki shii no kozoteki seigosei o motomete
(Consciousness and essence: In search of the structural integration of
Oriental thought), in ITC 6 (Chuo Koronsha, 1992).
11. Isuramu bunka: sono kontei ni aru mono (Islamic culture: The elements
that make up its foundation) (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1981); rept. in ITC
2 (Chuo Koronsha, 1993).
12. Koran 0 yomu (Reading the Koran) (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1983); rept.
The 8 (Chuo Koronsha, 1991).
13. Imi no fukami e: Toyo tetsugaku no suii (To the depths of reading: the
Fathoming of Oriental philosophy) (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1985); rept.
in IrrC 9 (Chuo Koronsha, 1991).
14. Kosumosu to anchi kosumosu: loro tetsugaku no tame ni (Cosmos and
anti-cosmos: For a philosophy of the Orient)(Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten,
1989); rept. in ITC 9 (Chuo Koronsha, 1991).
15. Choetsu no kotoba: Isuramu Yuclaya tetsugaku ni okeru kami to hito
(Transcendental WORDs: God and men in Islamic and Jewish philoso­
phy) (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1991)
16. Ishiki no keijijogaku: “Daijo kishinron” no tetsugaku (Metaphysics of con­
sciousness: The philosophy of the Awakening of Faith in the Mahdyana)
(Tokyo: Chuo Koronsha, 1993; rept. 2001).
17. Izutsu Toshihiko Chosakushu (The selected works of Toshihiko Izutsu), 11
yols. and supplement (Tokyo: Chuo Koronsha, 1991-1993).
18. Yomu to kaku: Izutsu Toshihiko esseishu (Reading and writing: A collec­
tion of Toshihiko Izutsu’s essays), ed. Eisuke Wakaniatsu (Tokyo: Keio
Gijuku Daigaku Slmppankai, 2009).
19. Roshiateki ningen, p. 235 (ITC 3: 215).
20. Ibid., p. 239 (ITC 3: 218).
21. Cf. ri C 1: 13-14.
22. The Concept unci Reality of Existence (Tokyo: Keio Institute of Cultural
and Linguistic Studies, 1971), p. 1.
23. Ishiki to honshitsu, p. 429 (ITC 6: 339-340); the translation is by
Yoshitsugu Sawai in “Izutsu’s Crcatiye ’Reading’ of Oriental Thought
and Its Dewelopinent,” the editor’s essay to The Structure of Oriental
 Philosophy: Collected Papers of the Kamos Conference, 2 yols., The l/iitsu
Library Series 4 (Tokyo; Keio Uniycrsity Press, zootS), 2: 215-223, at 221.
24. Isnrdnm tetsugaku no genzo, r r c 5:334.
25. Ishiki to honshitsu, p. 4 (I'l’C 6: 9).

T R A N S L A T O R ’S N O T K S

1. Roshiateki ningen: kindai Roshia hungaknshi (Russian lmiiianitv: A his­

tory of modern Russian literature) (Tokyo: Kdbimdd, 1953), p. 164; rept.
RFC 3 (Chud Koronsha, 1992), p. 143.
2. Shinpi tetsngaku (Philosophy of mysticism) (Tokyo: Tetsugaku Slnlddin
1949; rept. Keio Cijuku Daigaku Shuppankai, 2010), p. 46; row ed. rept.
rrc 1:237
3. Supsm and 'Taoism: A Comparative Study of Key Philosophical Concepts
(Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1983; Berkeley: Uniycrsity of California Press,
1 9 8 4 ) , p. 4 6 9 .

4. “Cosmos and Anti-Cosmos: loom the Standpoint of Oriental Philosophy,”

in Cosmos, Life, Religion: Beyond Humanism (Tenri: Tcnri Uniycrsity
Press, 19SS), p. 122.
5. Ishiki to honshitsu (Consciousness and essence) (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten,
1983), p. 231; rept. PPC 6 (Chud Koronsha, 1992), p. 200.
6. “Bunka to gengo araxa ishiki: ibnnkakan taiwa no kanosci o megutte
(Culture and linguistic r7 /cm/-eonseiousness: On the question of the pos­
sibility of cross cultural dialogue), in Imi no fukami e (To the depths of
meaning) (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1985), pp. 46-83, at 73; rept. 1 TC 9
(Child Koronsha, 1992), p. 65.
7. “‘Yomu’ to Taku ” (“Reading” and “writing”), Riso (Ideal) 600 (1983),
2-8; rept. in Yomu to kaku, pp. 417-425, at 422.
8. See p. 322.

CHAPTER ONE

Shinpi tetsugaku: The Birth of a Poet-Philosopher

1. Shinpi tetsugaku: Girishia no hit (Philosophy of mysticism: The Creek
part) (Tokyo: Tetsugaku Shudoin, 1949; rept. Keio Cijuku Daigaku
Shuppankai, 2010); re\r. ed. (Kyoto: jinbun Slioin, 1978); rept. PPC 1
(Child Koronsha, 1991). Citations will be to the 2010 edition and PPC 1.
2. Mahometto (Muhammad) (Tokyo: Kdbiindo, 1952; rept. Kodansha, 1989);
rcw. ed. Isura mu seitan (The birth of Islam) (Tokyo: Jinbun Slioin, 1979;
rept. in 1 TC 2 (Child Koronsha, 1993).
 3. “Cliosakiislnl kanko ni atatte” (On the publication of the selected works),
in ITC 1: 471-474, at 472. ’ '
4. A Comparative Study of the Key Philosophical Concepts 0/ Sufism and
'Taoism: Ibn ‘Arab1 and Lao-tzu, Chuang-tzu, 3 pts. in 2 vols., Studies in
the Humanities and Social Relations 7 and 10 (Tokvo: Keio Institute of
Cultural and Linguistic Studies, i966-]967); rev. ed., Sufism and Taoism:
A Comparative Study of the Key Philosophical Concepts (Tokvo: Iwanami
Shotcn, 1983; Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984).
5. “Chosakushu kanko ni atatte,” ITC 1: 472; the Japanese words that Izutsu
annotates with pathos and psyche mean “feeling or emotion” and “mind.”
6. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. ii (ITC 1: 193).
7. “Shiso to geijutsu” (Art and thought), Mita Bungaku (Mita Literature)
67,15 (1988), 22-47; rcPt- in 1 1 ^ Bekkan: Taidan teidanshu (Supplement:
The eollocpiies and three-way conversations) (Tokyo: Chfio Koronsha,
1993), pp. 327-368, at 352.
8. Ibid., p. 363.
9. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. vii.
10. Ibid., p. viii.
11. Ibid.
12. Ibid., pp. viii-ix.
13. Met. 12.9 1074b 34k
14. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. 142 (ITC 1: 321).
15. Ibid.
16. Ibid., p. 512 (ITC 1: 177-178).
17. Ibid., p. vi.
18. Ibid., p. 47 (ITC 1: 238).
19. Ishiki no keijijogaku: “Daijo kishinron” no tetsugaku (Metaphysics of con­
sciousness: The philosophy of the Awakening of Faith in the Alahdvana)
(Tokyo: Chflo Koronsha, 1993), p. 65.
20. Shinpi tetsugaku, pp. 2]5-216 (ITC 1: 383-384).
21. Ishiki to honshitsu, p. 37 (ITC 6: 35).
22. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. ii.
23. Ibid., p. 45 (ITC 1: 236).
24. Ibid., p. 46 (ITC 1: 237, with minor revisions).
25. Ibid., p. 45 (ITC 1: 236-237).
26. Ibid., p. 384 (ITC 1: 70-71).
27. Ibid., p. v.
28. Ibid., p. vii-viii.
 _-“>—
3»
>

29. Ibid., p. 434 (TIC 1: 113).

30. Ibid., p. 421 (ITC 1: 102).
Ibid., p. 434 (ITC 1: 113).
-> ->
Ibid., p. 427 (ITC 1: 107).
8 8 Ibid., p. 511 (ITC 1: 176).

34 Ibid., p. 30 (ITC 1: 223).

35 Ibid., pp. 30-31 (ITC 1: 223-224).
36 Ibid., p. 214 (ITC 1: 3S2).
s/— Ibid., p. 144 (ITC 1: 324).
38 Ibid., p. 156 (ITC 1: 33}).
39 Ibid., p. 144 (ITC 1: 323).
40 Ibid., pp. 153-154 (ITC 1: 331).
4 1 Ibid., p. 33 (ITC 1: 226).
42 Ibid., p. 62 (ITC 1: 252).
43 Ibid., p. 150 (ITC 1: 328).
44 Ibid., p. 319, omitted in the revised edition.
45 Ibid., p. 325 (ITC 1: 22).
46 “Tsuiokn: Nisbiwaki junzaburd ni maiiabiE (Reminiscences: Studying
with junzaburd Nisbiwaki), E/go Seinen (The Rising Generation) 128,7
(1982), 415-416; rept. in Yomu to kciku, pp. 509-511, at 510.
4' “Nisbiwaki sensei to gengogakn to watashi” (Professor Nisbiwaki, linguis­
tics and I”), in insert to Nisbiwaki Junzaburd /ensbu bekkan (Supplement
to the complete works of junzaburd Nisbiwaki) (Tokvo: Chikuma Sliobd,
1983), pp. 2-4; rept. in Yomu to kciku, pp. 522-524, at 522.
48. “Sliiso to geijutsu,” ITC Bekkan, p. 336.
49. “Tsuiokn” (Reminiscences) in Kaisd no Kurivagawa b'uinio (Recollections
of Emnio Kuriyagawa), ed. Yasaburo Ikeda (Tokyo: Keio Gijuku Mita
Bnngakn Library, 1979), pp. 42-46; rept. in Yomu to kaku, pp. 503-508, at
504.
50. Ibid., p. 505.
51. “Shi to lidyn” (Teachers, colleagues and friends) in Mita Ilvdron (Mita
Review) 803 (1980), 2-3; rept. in Yonni to kaku, pp. 589-591, at 590.
52. Ibid., p. 589.
53. Ibid., pp. 589-591.
54. Shi no kokoro (The heart of poetry) (Tokvo: Nihon Sono Sliobd, 1969;
rept. Perikansha, 1982), pp. 200-201.
55. “PROEANUSin Cbdgenjitsusbugi shiron (O11 surrealist poetry) (Tokvo:
Kdseikakn Slioten, 1929); rept. in Nisbiwaki junzaburd Korckusbon 4:
 blyoronshu (The Junzaburo Nishiwaki Collection 4: Anthology of lit­
em r\‘ criticism), eel. Toslnkazu Niiknra (Tokyo: Keio Gijnku Daigaku
Shuppankai, 2007), p. 6.
36. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. 412 (ITC 1: 94-95).
57. Ibid., p. 403 (ITC 1: 87).
38. Ambarvalia (Tokyo: Shiinokisha, 1933); rept. in Nishiwaki Junzaburo
Korekushon 1: Shishft 1 (The Junzaburo Nishiwaki Collection 1: Anthology
of poetry 1), eel. Toshikazn Niiknra (Tokyo: Keio Gijnku Daigaku
Shuppankai, 2007); trans. Donald Keene, in Dawn to the West: Japanese
Literature of the Modern Era: Poetry, Drama, Criticism, A 1 1 istory of
Japanese Literature 4 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1999), p.
324. The simile, “like an upturned gem,” is from Keats’s Endymion.
39. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. 381 (ITC 1: 68).
60. Ibid., p. vi (ITC 1: 197); Izntsu omits “Saint” in the revised edition.
61. Ibid.
62. Neoplatonic Saints: The Lives ofProchts and Plotinus by Their Students, trans.
Mark Edwards (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2000), pp. 38-115.
63. Foreword to Shinpi tetsugaku, p. x (ITC 1: 200).
64. Immanuel Kant, Kan to junsiti risei hihan chitshakn: yasashii junsiti risei
hihan (Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason with annotations: A simplified Critique
of Pure Reason), trans. Mitsuo Ueda (Tokvo: Hikari no Shobo, 1947).
65. Friedrich Schelling, Kami to wa nani ka? Shinteki keiji no tetsugaku
(What is God? The philosophy of divine revelation), trans. Mitsuo Ueda
(Tokvo: Hikari 110 Shobo, 1948).
66. Gustav Theodor Fechner, Uchft komyo no tetsugaku: reikon fnmetsn no
risetsu (Philosophy of cosmic light: Theory of the immortality of the
sold), trans. Mitsuo Ueda (Tokyo: Hikari no Shobo, 1948).
67. Mitsuo Ueda, Harntoman no muishiki no tetsugaku (Hartmann’s
Philosophy of the Unconscious) (Tokyo: Hikari no Shobo, 1948).
68. Tarulio Inagaki, Tokyo tonsokyoku (Tokvo fugue) (Tokyo: Shoshinsha,
1968; rept. Kawadc Shobo Shinsha, 1991).
69. Sekai Tetsugaku Koza 1: Indo tetsugakushi, Girishia tetsugakushi
(Fccturcs in world philosophy 1: Indian philosophy, Greek philosophy)
(Tokyo: Hikari no Shobo, 1947)
70. Tsutomu Iwasaki, Tetsugaku ni okeru sukui no mondai (The question of
salvation in philosophy) (Osaka: I oho Shuppan, 1982).
71. Sekai Tetsugaku Koza 5: Bukkvd tetsugaku, Kirisutokvo gairon, Arabia tet­
sugaku (Lectures in world philosophy 5: Buddhist philosophy; An intro­
duction to Christianity; Arabic philosophy (Tokvo: Hikari no Shobo, 1948).
72. S ckci i Tctsngaku Kdza 13: Purochinosu 110 shin pi tetsugaku (Lectures
in world philosophy 15: Plotinus’ philosophy of mysticism) (Tokyo:
Tetsugaku Shudoin, 1949).
73. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. 333 (ITC 1: 29).
74. Preface to the reyised edition o(Shinj)i tetsugaku, ITC 1: 12.
73. Ibid., ITC 1:14.
76. “Shinpishugi no crosnteki keitai: Sci Berunriru-ron” (The mysticism of St.
Bernard) Tetsugaku (Philosophy) 27 (1951), 33—64; rept. in Yoinu to kaku,
PP- 3 5 9 - 3 9 5 ­
77. “Chfisci Yudaya tetsugakushi ni okeru keiji to risei” (Reason and rewe-
1 ation in the history of medieval Judaic philosophy), in Iwanami kdza:
Tovo shiso 2: Yu(Java shiso 2 (Iwanami lecture scries: Oriental thought
2: Judaic thought 2) (Tokyo: Iwanami Shotcn, 1988); rept. in Choelsu no
kotoba: Isuramu Yudaya tetsugaku ni okeru kami to into (Transcendental
WORDs: God and men in Islamic and Jewish philosophy) (Tokyo:
Iwanami Shotcn. 1991).
78. “Sokunyo” (Implicitness), in Sluikvo to sono shinri (Religion and its truth)
(Tokyo: Sobunkaku, 1920); rept. in Yanagi Muneyoshi sluikvo senslul
(Selected works of Muneyoshi Yanagi on religion) (Tokyo: Slmnjfisha,
1990), collector’s version, 1: 140.
79. “Shinpido e no benmei” (Apologia for the via mvstica), in Sluikvo to sono
shinri; rept. in Yanagi Muneyoshi sluikvo senslul, collector’s version 1: 87.
80. Ibid., 1: 93.
81. Izutsu Toshihiko bunko mokuroku (Catalogue of Izutsu Toshihiko’s
library), 2 yols. (Tokyo: Kcio Gijuku Toshokan, 2002-2003).
82. Kami ni tsuite (On God) (Osaka: Osaka Mainiehi Sbimbunsba, 1923);
rept. in Yanagi Muneyoshi siiukvo senslul, collector’s \ersion, \ol. 2.
83. Sluikvo no rikai (Understanding religion) (Tokyo: Sobunkaku, 1929); rept.
in Yanagi Muneyoshi sluikvo senshu, vo\. 2.
84. Nainuamiclahutsu (Tokyo: Daiborinkakusha, 1928); rept. in Yanagi
Muneyoshi siiukvo senshu, collector’s \ersion, \ol 3. /ppen shonin (St
lppen) (Tokyo: Shinronsba, 1955); rept. in Yanagi Muneyoshi Sluikvo
senshu, collector’s yersion, \ol 3. Mvokonin Inaba 110 Genza (Buddhist
Saint Ccnza of Inaba) (K\oto: Otani Slnippansba, 1950); rept. in Yanagi
Muneyoshi myokonin ronslul (Collection of essays by Muneyoshi Yanagi
on Buddhist saints), ed. Bunsho Jugaku (Tokyo: hyanami Shotcn, 1991).
83. “Shujunaru shukyoteki hitei” (The yaricties of religions negation), in
Sluikvo to sono shinri-, rept. in Yanagi Muneyoshi sluikvo senslul, collec­
tor’s version, vol. 1.
86. Preface to the revised edition of Shinpi tetsugaku, ITC 1: 13.
87. “Tetsugaku ni okeru temuperaniento” (Temperament in philosophy) in
Shukyo to sotio shinri; rept. in Yancigi Munevoshi shukyo senshu, collec­
tor’s version, vol. 1.
88. Ibid., 1: 251.
89. “Shujunaru shukvoteki hitei,” in Yancigi Munevoshi shukyo senshu, collec­
tor’s version 1: 197-198.
90. Shinpi tetsugaku, pp. 326-327 (ITC 1: 24).
91. “Hie Way of Tea,” lecture given at the Honolulu Academy of Arts in
1953, online at www.themista.com/frecebooks/wayoftca.htni; rept. in
slightly modified form in The Unknown Craftsman: A Japanese Insight
into Beauty, by iMunevoshi Yanagi and Bernard Peach (Tokyo, New York:
Kodansha International, 1972), p. 177; Yomu to kaku, p. 132.
92. “Mahometto” (Muhammad), in Seia sekaishi (World history of western
Asia), ed. Asataro Yasaka (Tokvo: Kobundo Shobo), pp. 249-265: rept. in
Yomu to kaku, pp. 127-146, at 132-133.

CHAPTER TWO

The Encounter with Islam

1. “Tenkin monogatari” (The Tenkin story), in Ginza junishd (Ginza in
twelve chapters) (Tokyo: Asahi Shimbun sha, 1965; rept. 1996), p. 48.
2. “Philosophia haikon,” cited in “Izutsu 1 bshihiko-kun to no kosai” (My
friendship with ’Poshihiko Izutsu), in Tegami no tanoshimi (The pleasures
of letter-writing) (Tokvo: Bungei Sliunju, 1981), p. 34; rept. in Yomu to
kaku (Reading and writing), p. 331. The term “Philosophia haikon,” pre­
sumably, is a combination of Greek and Japanese, philosophia ha (i.e. wa)
ikon, which might be translated “Philosophv Is Image.”
3. “Nijisseikimatsu no vami to hikari” (Darkness and light at the end of the
twentieth century), Chuo Koron (Central Review') 108,1 (1993), 2—--40, and
“Sliiso to geijutsu” (Art and thought), Alita Bungaku 67,15 (1988), 22-47;
rept. in ITC Bekkan (Tokyo: Cliuo Koronsha, 1993), pp. 369-399 and 327­
368, rcspcctivclv.
4. “Gogaku kaigen” (My initiation into the mvsteries of languages) in Alichi:
Shown no hitori ichiwashu 7 (Patlwvavs: One person one story, a Showa-
period anthology), ed. Yosliio Kamiyama (Nagoya: Cliuto Kvoiku Tosho,
1984), 120-125; rept. in Yomu to kaku, pp. 601-604, at 603-604.
5. Ibid., pp. 601-602.
6. “Nijisseikimatsu no vami to hikari,” ITC Bekkan, p. 380.
 7. “Izutsu Toshihiko-sensei o itamu” (Mourning the death of Professor
Toshihiko Izutsu), \lita Bungaku (Mita Literature) 77,47 (1994), 152.
8. “Izutsu Toshihiko no koto” (About Tosh ill iko Izutsu), in the insert to ITC
1, pp. 1-4.
9. From 'Tokyo to Jerusalem (New York: Bernard Ckeis, 1964), p. 5.
10. FI i b u r n g o g e u t e n u y i l m o u (Introduetion to the original text in the Hebrew
language) (Tokyo: Nichieido Shoten, 1946).
11. “Bungaku to shiso no sliinsd” (The depths of literature and thought),
S e k a i 470 (1985), 240-258; rept. in LPC B e k k a n , pp. 7-54, at 12.

12. Yuclaya minzoku no sugata (The true eharaeter of the jewvish nation)
(Tokyo: Mcguro Shoten, 1944).
14. Nihon to Yuclaya: sono vilko no rekishi (japan and jndea: A history of their
friendship) (Tokvo: Mirutosu, 2007).
14. “ Shinpisluigi no erosuteki keitai: Sei Bcmoaru-ron” (The mystieism of
St Bernard) in Tetsugaku (Philosophy) 27 (1951), 44-64; rept. in Yomu to
kaku, pp. 559-495, at 575.
15. Ibid., p. 5 7 0 .

16. Sliinpi tetsugaku: Girishia no bu (Philosophy of mvstieism: The Greek

part) (Tokvo: Tetsugaku Shudoin, 1949; rept. Keio Gijuku Daigaku
Shuppankai, 2010), p. 28; rew. ed. (Kyoto: jinbun Shoin, 1978); rept. I PC 1
(Child Koronsha, 1991), p. 250.
17. “Shinpishugi no erosuteki keitai,” p. 575.
1 8. Ibid., pp. 5 6 9 -5 7 0 .

19. Sliinpi tetsugaku, p. 16 (ITC 1: 210).

20. [Translators note: In his later works Izutsu uses the katakana spelling
np/s of kotoba, which I have translated as “WORD,” to distinguish it from
“word/words” in the normal sense written with the diameters
21. “Yndava minzoku no kobo” (The rise and bill of the jewish people), in Seinan
Ajia no susei (Trends in southwest Asia) (Tokvo: Meguro Shoten, 1942).
22. “Chusei Yudaya tetsugakushi ni okeru keiji to risei” (Reason and revela­
tion in the history of medieval judaie philosophy), hvanami Koza: Toro
shiso 2: Yuclaya shiso 2 (Kvanami lecture series: Oriental thought 2: judaie
thought 2) (Tokyo: Kvanami Shoten, 1988), pp. 5-114; rept. in Choetsu no
kotoba: Isurdmu Yuclava tetsugaku ni okeru kami to Into (Transcendental
WORDs: God and men in Islamic and jewish philosophy) (Tokvo:
Iwanami Shoten, 1991), pp. 279-405.
25. Of. “Derida no naka no ‘Yndavajin’” (The “jew7” in Derrida), S h i s o
(Thought) 711 (1985), 21-57; rept. in I m i n o f u k a m i e (To the depths of
meaning), pp. 87-120 (PPG 9: 561-387).
24. I s h i k i to h o n s h i t s n : s e i s h i n t e k i T o r o o w o t o m e t e (Consciousness and
essenee: In search of the spiritual Orient) (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1983),
p. 248; rept. as I s h i k i to h o n s h i t s i i : T o y o t e k i s h i i n o k o z o t e k i s e i g o s e i o
m o t o i n e t e (Consciousness and essenee: In seareh of the structural integra­
tion of Oriental thought), ITC 6 (CI1G0 Koronsha, 1992), p. 198.
25. Ibid., p. 234 (ITC 6: 188).
26. “Angva hyohaku no shi: Musa” (Musa: The wandering pilgrim teacher),
in “Wasureenu hito” (Unforgettable people), Y o m i u r i S h i i i i b u u , 7 March
1983 evening edition; rept. in Y o u n t to k a k u , pp. 512-513.
27. A l e m - i I s l a m r e J a p o n y a d a i n t i s c i r - i I s l a n i l y e t , 2 vols. (Istanbul: 1910­
1913); J a p o n y a : I s n r a i n u k e i R o s h i a j i n n o m i t a M e i j i N i h o n (Japon’va:
Meiji Japan as seen by a Russian Muslim), trails. Kaori Komatsu and
Hisao Komatsu (Tokyo: Daisan Shokan, 1991). A French translation
is also available, U u T a t a r a n J a p o i r . v o y a g e e u A s i e , 190S-7970 (A T a t a r
i n J a p a n : T r a v e l i n A s i a , /908-79/0), trails. Francois Georgeon ([Arles]:
Actes Sud-Sindbad, 2004).
28. “ Bafurunnuru monogatari” (The tale of Bahr-un-Noor), in I l a k u j i
goshi(White poreelain box) (Tokyo: Shokotcn Shobo, 1959; rept. Chuo
Koronsha, 1993).
29. Surutan G a riefu no yum e: Isu ram u s e k a i to R o s h i a kakum ei (Sultan
Caliev’s dream: The Russian Revolution and the Islamie world) (Tokvo:
Tokyo Daigaku Shuppankai, 1986; rept. Iwanami Shoten, 2009).
30. Ar a b i a g a k u e n o i n i c h i : w a g a j i n s e i n o s h i r n k u r o d o (The road to Arabie
studies: T he Silk Road of my life) (Tokvo: Nihon Hoso Shuppan Kyokai,
1982).
31. “Nijisseikimatsu no vanii to hikari,” ITC B e k k a n , p. 374.
32. Ibid., p. 375.
33. “Bafurunnuru monogatari,” p. 42.
34. “Nijisseikimatsu no vami to hikari,” ITC B e k k a n , p. 379.
35. I b u r a h i i n u , N i h o n e n o t a b i : R o s h i a , O s u n i a n t e i k o k u , N i h o n (Ibrahim’s
journey to Japan: Russia, the Ottoman Umpire, Japan) (Tokvo: Tosui
Shobo, 2008).
36. “Bafurunnuru monogatari,” p. 75.
37. O k a w a S h u n i e i : A r u f n k k o k a k u s h i n s h n g i s h a n o s h i s o (Shfnnei Okawa:
The thought of a reactionary revolutionary) (Tokyo: Chuo Koronsha,
1995; rept. Kodansha, 2009).
38. l s l a n i i c a presumably refers to the series Bibliotheca Islamiea by that
name (and also published under the Arabie title Nasharat al-Islamlvah)
founded in 1929 by Ilellmutt Ritter under the auspices ot Deutsehe
 Morgcnlandischc Gcscllschaft and still being published today. Arahica
is likely to be the series Bibliotheca arabica scholaslicomm: Serie arabe,
which contains some of the earliest modern critical editions of Avcrrocs,
al-Farabl and al-Chazzall, usually with critical apparatus and introduc­
tion in French, and appears to have run from 1927 to 1952 (although some
of the volumes were reissued, likely as anastatic reprints, between 1990
and 1992), produced by linprimerie eatliolic]iie in Beirut. Mans of the
volumes appear to be the work of Maurice Bouvgcs (1878-1951). This
identification may not be secure, however, since there was a roughly' con­
temporaneous series called Bibliotheca arabica, published bv the Facultc
dcs 1 etties d’Alger, vTieh ran from 1925 through 1936. But since most of
the works included in that series are litcrarv (such as the famous collec­
tion of Diwan, edited by llcnri Peres), not philosophical or theological
texts, on balance, the reference mav in fact be to the Bibliotheca arabica
scholaslicormn. 1 am indebted to Fred Unvalla of the Pontifical Institute
of Mediaev al Studies for providing this information.
39. Arabia shisoshi: Kaikvo shingaku to Kaikvo tetsugaku ( 1 listorv of Arabic
thought: Islamic theology and Islamic philosophy) (Tokyo: Hakubunkan,
1940.
40. Kaikvo gairon (Introduction to Islam) (Tokyo: Keio Shobo, 1942; rept.
Chikuma Shobo, 2008).
41. “Okawa Shumei no Ajia kcnkvii” (Shumei Okawa’s Asian research), in
Okawa Slnnnei-shu (Shumei Okavn collection), ed. Bun/o Hashikava,
Kindai Nihon shiso taikei 21 (Modern Japanese thought series) (Tokyo:
Chikuma Shobo, 1975), 391-406, at 398. See also “Portrait ot [an] Asian
Minded Man X: Okawa Shumei,” The Developing Economies 7,3 (1969),
367-379. csp - 37fi-
42. Eukko Ajia no shomondai (Issues related to the reconstruction of Asia)
(Tokyo: Daitokaku, 1922; rept. Cluio Koronsha, 1993), p. 17.
43. Kaikvo gairon, p. 22.
44. “Yafuva Ibun Adi Seikaku no (ova ni okeru rinriteki seikalsu no ko/.o to
shalei” (The structure and seope of ethical living in Yahva Ibn ‘Adi’s The
Cultivation of Character) Eikon: Studies in Eastern Christianity 32 (2005),
63-86.
43. Isuramu shisoshi: shingaku, shinpishugi, tetsugaku (History of Islamic
thought: Theology, mysticism, philosophy') (Tokyo: Iwanami Sholcn,
1973; rept. 2005); rept. in ITC 5 (Chfio Koronsha, 1991), pp. 7-330 at 179.
46. Anraku no mon (The gate to paradise) (Tokyo: Izumo Shobo, 1951); rept.
in Okawa Shumei-shu, p. 251.
47. Ibid., p. 263.
48. Ibid., p. 267. »*
49. Koran o voiini (Reading the Koran) (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1985); rept.
ITC 8 (Chiio Koronsha, 1991), p. 133.
50. “Kaikyo ni okern keiji to risei” (Islamic revelation and reasoning), in
Nippon Shogaku Kenkyu Hokoku (Report of the Committee for the
Development of Sciences in Japan), 12 (1944), 53-67; rept. in Yomu to
kciku, pp. 63-78.
51. “Nijisseikimatsu no vami to hikari,” ITC Bekhan, p. 379.
52. Okami Shuiuei ( Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 2004).
53. Comments on Kaikyo gairon (Tokyo: Chno Koronsha, 1992), pp. 268-269.
54. Ibid., p. 272.
55. “Komi kotoba,” in Tobiiro no tsnki (Tokyo: Shokoshisha, 1925), cited in
Arabia shisoshi, p. 3.
56. Arabia shisoshi, p. 10.
57. Ibid., pp. 11-12.
58. Muslim Saints and Mystics: Episodes from the Tadhkirat al-Auliva'
(“Memorial of the Saints”), trails. A.J. Arberrv (London: Rontledge and
Kegan Paul, 1966; rept. Rontledge, 2008).
59. (Paris: P. Genthner, 1922; new ed. 4 vols. Gallimard, 1975; rept. 2010);
English translation, The Passion of AI-Hallaj: Mystic and Martyr of Islam,
trans. Herbert Mason, 4 vols. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982;
abridged ed. 1994).
60. “Hostipitalitv,” in Acts of Religion, trans. Gil Anidjar (New York, London:
Rontledge, 2002), p. 414 and passim; hostipitalite is a word coined by
Derrida, plaving on the similarity between the Latin words hospis
(“host”) and hostis, which means “enemy.”
61. Preface to Isurdnm shinpishugi ni okeru perusona no rinen (The idea of
personality in Islamic mysticism), a translation of R.A. Nicholson’s The
Idea of Personality in Sufism by Kiyoshi Nakamura (Kyoto: Jinbun Shoin,
1981), pp. 1-9; rept. in Yomu to kaku, pp. 212-219, at 214-215.
62. Ibid., p. 214.
63. Memoir of a Friend, Louis Massiguon (Notre Dame, IN: University of
Notre Dame Press, 1988).
6 4 . Ibid., p. 4 6 .
65. “Die Urspriinge nnd die Bedentnng des Gnostizismns im Islam” (The
origins and meaning of Gnosticism in Islam), Gestaltuug der Erlosuugsidee
in Ost uud West II (The shaping of the idea of redemption in the East and
the West 2), Era nos Jahrhiich 5 (1937) (Ascona: Eranos Stiftnng, 1938), pp.
55- 77-
66. “L’experiencc niusulmanc dc la compassion, ordonnce a runiycrsel;
a propos dc Eatima, ct dc llallaj” (The Muslim experience of compas­
sion, prescribed to all: apropos of Eatima and I lallaj), in D e r M e u s c h u u d
d i e S y m p a t h i e a l l c r D i u g e (Man and the sympathy of all things), Eranos
Jahrbuch 24 (1955) (Zurich: Rhein-Verlag, 1976), pp. 119-144.
67. Akiko Sugase, I s u r a e r u n o A r a h u j i n K i r i s u t o k y o t o : s o n o s h a k a i to a i d e n t i t i
( The Christian Arabs of Israel: Their society and identity) (I liroshima:
Keisuisha, 2009).
68. A C o m p a r a t i v e S t u d y o f t h e K e y P h i l o s o p h i c a l C o n c e p t s i n S u f i s m a n d
T a o i s m : I h u 'A r a b 7 a n d L a o - t z u , C l n i a n g - t z u , 4 pis. in 2 yols. (Tokyo: Keio
Institute of Cultural and Linguistic Studies, 1966-1967), 1:2.

CHAPTER TURKU

Russia: The Spirituality of Night

1. R o sh ia tek i n iu g eu : k iu d a i R o sh ia h u u g a k u sh i (Russian humanity: A his­
tory of modern Russian literature) (Tokyo: Kobmido, 1954); new’ edition
(Hokuyosha, 197S), preface; rept. ITC 4 (Child Kdrdnsha, 1992), p. 9.
Citations will be to the 1978 edition and ITC 4.
2. Afterword to R o s h i t e k i n i n g e n , pp. 274-275 (ITC 5: 249).
5. R o s h i a h u n g a k u (Russian literature) (Tokyo: Keid Cijuku Daigaku
Sluippankai, 2011).
4. “Torusutoi ni okcru isliiki 110 nnijunsci ni tsuite” (On the paradoxical
nature of consciousness in 'Tolstoy), S a n s h o k u k i (Tricolour) 52 (1952) 9-14;
rept. in Y o m u to k a k u (Reading and writing), pp. 550-558; and “Roshia no
naimenteki seikatsu: jukyfiseiki hungaku no seishinshiteki tenbd” (Interior
life in Russia: A spiritual history pcrspectixe on ninctccnth-ccntury litera­
ture), K o s e i (Indi\'iduality) 1,5 (1948), 2-29; rept. as an appendix to R o s h i a
h u n g a k u , pp. 195-1241.

5. “Roshia no naimenteki seikatsu," in R o s h i a h u n g a k u , p. 202.

6. R o s h i a t e k i n i u g e u , pp. 41-42 (ITC 5).
7. English translation, D o s t o e v s k y , trans. Donald Attwater (London: Sliced
and Ward, 1954), p. 140.
8. D o s u t o i e f u s u k i i u o s e k a i k a u (Dostoewsky’s worldyiew), trails. Jiro Kashima
(Tokyo: Suzaku Sliorin, 1945).
9. B e r u j a c f u : k a k u m e i to s e i s h i n u o k e i f u (Bcrdyacw: Rcwolutiou and the
genealogy of his mind) (Tokyo: Kdbundo, 1949).
10. D i e S c h a u d e r K i r c h e h e i N i k o l a i B e r d i a f e w (Nikolai Berdyacw’s \iew
of the church), Orientalia ehristiana analecta 116 (Rome: Pontifical ion
Institutum Oricntalium Studiorum, 1958), trans. dokuji Shimoyama as
 Berujciefu no tetsugaku: Roshiateki jitsuzonshugi (Berdyaev’s philosophy:
Russian existentialism) (Tokyo: Risosha, 1951).
11. "Frans. Donald A. Lowric (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1952), p. 40.
12. Trans. S. Janos, 2000. Online at www.herdyaev.eom/hercliaev/berd_lib/
1936_408.html.
13. Roshiateki ningen, p. 73 ( 1 TC 3: 71).
14. Ibid., prefaee (ITC 3: 9).
15. Ibid.
16. Cited in “Berujaefu no shogai to shiso” (Berdyaev’s life and thought), in bis
translation Ai to jitsuzou: Rei no kuni, Sezaru no kuni (Love and existence: "1 he
realm of the spirit, the realm of Caesar) (Tokyo: Cbikuma Shobo, 1954), p. 254.
Cf. R.M. French s translation of the same passage: “[P]aradise is a possibility
for me, if there is not to be am'everlasting bell for any single creature who lives or
has lived. One cannot be saved in loneliness and isolation. Salvation can only be a
corporate experience, a universal release from suffering.”The Beginning and the
End-.Essays on Eschatological Metaphysics (NewYork: I Iarperand Brothers, 1952,
p. 237.
17. Roshiateki uingen, p. 26 (ITC 3: 28).
18. Ibid., p. 49 (ITC 3: 48).
19. Ibid., p. 48 (ITC 3: 47).
20. Ibid., p. 238 (ITC 3: 217-218).
21. Ibid., p. 163 (ITC 3: 151).
22. Roshia bungaku, p. 16.
23. “Tsinni to batsu ni tsuite II” (On Crime and Punishment II), in Kobayashi
Hideo Zenshu (Complete works of Hideo Kobayashi) 6 (Tokyo:
Shinchosha, 1978; rept. 2004), p. 314. In addition to a number of essavs
on the works of Dostoevsky, Kobayashi wrote a biography of him,
Dosutoefusukii no seikatsu (Life of Dostoevsky) (Tokyo: Sogensha, 1939;
rept. Shinchosha, 2005).
24. Roshiateki ningen, p. 233 (ITC 3: 213).
25. “Tsumi to batsu ni tsuite II,” in Kobayashi Hideo Zenshu 6: 314.
26. “Masamunc Hakueho no saku ni tsuite,” in Kobayashi Hideo Zenshu,
Bekkau 1 (Complete works of Hideo Kobayashi, supplement 1) (Tokvo:
Shinchosha, 2002), p. 433.
27. Fyodor Dostoevsky: A Critical Study (London: Martin Seeker, 1916; rept.
New York: Russell and Russell, 1966), pp. 33-34.
28. “Dosutoefusukii 75 nensai ni okeru koen” (Lecture on the 75th anni­
versary of Dostoevsky[’s death; 1956]), in Kobayashi Hideo Zensakuhiu
 21 (Complete works of llideo Kobavashi, annotated edition) (dokvo:
Shinchosha, 2004).
29. A Writer's Diary, 2 vols., Irans. Kenneth Lantz (Lvanston, II,: North­
western Univcrsitv Press, 1993-1994; abridged ed., 2009).
30. Letter 90 to Natalva Konvisina (1834), ed. and trans. David Lowe and
Ronald Meyer, in Complete Letters, 3 vols. (Ann Arbor: Ardis, 1988-1991),
1: 193-196, at 193; eited in Rosliiateki ningen, p. 33 (ITC 3: 33).
31. Gohho no tegami ('The Letters of Van Gogh) (Tokvo: ShineliOsha, 1932; rept.
2004).
32. “The Dream of a Ridiculous Man,” trails. Ronald Mover, in 7 'he Gambler
and Other Stories (London and New York: Penguin Glassies, 2010), p. 353.
33. Rosliiateki ningen, p. 133 (PPG 3: 143).
34. Ibid., p. 139 (PPG 3: 148).
33. Letter of 26 Februarv 1869 to Nikolai Strakhov, in Complete Letters 3: 137,
eited in Rosliiateki ningen, p. 234 (PPG 3: 214).
36. Diary entry from 1881, in I'he Dostoevsky Encyclopedia, ed. K.A. Lantz
(Westport, C P: Greenwood Press, 2004), p. 332; eited in Rosliiateki nin­
gen, pp. 233-234 (PPG 3: 213-214).
37. Luvodoru Cliutchiefu kenkyu: jukyuseiki roshia no jiko ishiki (PYodor
Tyutchev studies: Self-consciousness in ninctcenth-ccnturv Russia)
(Osaka: Manvuaru Ilausu, 2007).
38. Rosliiateki ningen, p. 154 (ITC 3: 143).
39. Cited in ibid., p. 164 (ITC 3: 138).
40. Ibid., pp. 139-60 (PPG 3: 148).
41. Ibid., p. 155 (PPC 3: 145).
42. Ibid., p. 135 (PPC 3: 144-145).
43. Ibid., p. 159 (PPG 3: 148).
44. Ibid., p. 117 (PPC 3: 110-111). Also cited in Roshia bungaku, pp. 124-125.
45. Ibid., p. 115 (PPG 3: 109).
46. Ibid., p. 111 (PPC 3: 105).
47. Roshia bungaku, p. 126.
48. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. 323 (PPC 1: 21).
49. “Izutsu Toshihiko-sensei” (Professor Toshihiko Izutsu), Sanshokuki
(Tricolour), supplement (1993), 52-53.
50.Ibid.
51. “Sliiso to geijutsu” (Art and thought), Mita Bungaku (Mita Literature)
67,15 (1988), 22-47; rcpb hi PPG Bekkan: faidan teidaushu (Supplement:
 The colloquies and three-wav conversations) (Tokyo: Cluio Koronsha,
1995), pp. 327-568, at 335. "
52. Keizaigaku tetsugaku shuko (Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts),
trans. Ka/.uo Miura (Tokvo: Aoki Shoten, 1962).
53. Seishin no genshogaku joron: gakunionteki ninshiki ni tsuitc (Introduction
to Phenomenology of Spirit: On scholarly cognition), trans. Ka/,110 Miura
(Tokyo: Michitani, 1995).
54. Roshia hungaku, p. 127.
55. Ibid., p. 119.
56. “The Stranger,” in Paris Spleen: Little Poems in Prose, trans. Keith
Waldrop (Middletow n, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 2009), p. 5: cited
in Roshia hungaku, pp. 119-120.
57. Partially translated by lzutsu in Roshiateki ningen, p. 113 ( 1 TC 3: 107).
58. “Albatros7 “The Albatross,” in The Flowers of Evil, trans. James McGowan
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993; rept. 2008), pp. 16-17.
59. Roshiateki ningen, p. 112 ( 1 TC 3: 106).
60. Ibid., p. 116 (ITC 3: 109).
61. Ibid., p. 111 (ITC 3: 106).
62. Ibid., p. 112 (PI C 3: 106).
63. Cited in ibid., p. 110 (ITC 3: 105).
64. Alutsuiri, Akunia (The novice; Demon), trans. Masami 1 ehijo (Tokyo:
hvanami Shoten, 1951).
63. Roshiya hungaku ni tsuite (On Russian literature) (Tokyo: Naukasha,
1948), p. 80.
66. Ibid., pp. 81-82.
67. Geijutsu to riarizumu (Art and realism) (Tokyo: Keio Shobo, 1947), p. 27.
68. “Shiso to geijutsu,” ITC Bekkan, p. 336.
69. “Slioshi o motomete” (In search of the right teacher), APita Hroron (Mita
Review) 803 (1980), 2-3; rept. in Yomu to kaku (Reading and writing), pp.
586-588, at 588.
70. “Shiso to geijutsu,” ITC Bekkan, p. 336.
71. “Slioshi o motomete,” Yomu to kaku, p. 588.
72. Roshiateki ningen, p. 156 (ITC 3: 145).
73. Roshira hungaku ni tsuite, p. 91.
74. Shizen ni okeru hi: geijutsu no ippanteki igi (Beauty in nature: The gen­
eral significance of the arts) (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1928).
77. Ibid., p. 6; also in Hie Heart of Reality: Essays on Beauty, Roye, and
l'jthics, trails. Vladimir Woz.niuk (Notre Dame, IN: Uniycrsity ol Notre
Dame Press, 2007), p. 29.
76. Roshiateki ningen, p. 147 ( 1 TC 7: 174).
77. Roshiya hungaku hydronsbu (Anthology of Russian literary criticism), 2
vols. (Tokyo: lwanami Slioten, 1970-1971).
78. Ibid., 1: 224.
79. Roshiya hungaku ni tsuite, p. 104.
80. Roshiateki ningen, pp. 47-48 (ITC 7: 47).

C11APTKR FOUR

A Contemporary and the Biography of the Prophet

1. “Tenrikyo shingakn josho: sono rinkakn to kadai ni tsuite” (Introduction
to Tenrikyo theology: Its outline and themes), in Moroi Yoshinori
CbosakusbCi 6 (Tcnri: Tenrikyo Doyfisha, 1971); and “Tenrikyo k\-o-
gigaku shiron” (A preliminary essay on Tenrikyo dogmatic theology), in
Cbosakushu 1 (Tenri: Tenrikyo Doyfisha, 1962).
2. “Tenrikyo shingakn josho,” Cbosakushu 1: 7-4.
7. “Shinpishugi no erosuteki keitai: Sei Berunarii-ron” (The mysticism ol
St Bernard), in Tetsugaku (Philosophy) 27 (1971), 77-64; rept. in Yonm to
kaku, pp. 7 5 9 - 3 9 > at 772.
4. Sbukyo shinpishugi bassei no kenkyu: toku ni Setnu-kei ehdetsushinkyd o
chusbin to suru shukyogakuteki kdsatsu (A study of the dexelopment ol
religious mysticism: A religious-studies perspeetixe centering on Semitic
monotheism) (Nara: Tenri Daigaku Shuppanbu, 1966).
7. Sbukydteki shutaisei no ronri (The logic of religious identity) (Nara:
Tenrikyo Doyfisha, 1991).
6. Kirisuto o hakonda otoko: Pauro no sbogai (The man who carried Christ:
The life of Paul) (Tokyo: Kodansha, 1987; rept. Nihon Kirisutokxodan
Sluippankyoku, 1998).
7. Alabometto (Muhammad) (Tokyo: Kobundo, 1972; rept. Kodansha, 1989), p. 7.
8. Shukyd shinpishugi bassei no kenkyu, p. 7.
9. Ibid., p. 4.
10. Re ebamanisme et les techniques archaiques de Vextase (Paris: Payot, 1971;
rept. 1978); Shamanism: Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy, trails. Willard R.
Trask (New York: Bollingen Foundation, 1964; rcy. and enl. ed. Princeton:
Princeton IJniyersity Press, [1972]; rept. 2004), p. 709.
11. 7 0/70 monogatari (Tokyo [1910]; rcpt. Daiwashobo, 2010); The Legends of
7 b/7 0 , tmns. Ronald A. Morse, Japan Foundation 'Translation Series (Tokyo:
Japan Foundation, 1975; rcpT Lanham: Lexington Books, 2008), p. 5.
12. Shamanism, p. xiii.
13. “Shinpislmgi no erosnteki keitai: Sei B e n i n d r u - r o n , " Y o m u to k a k u , p. 381.
14. “"Tenrikvo kyogigaku shiron,” p. 30,
15. Shukyoteki shutaisei no ronri, pp. 8-9.
16. Ibid., p. 9.
17. “Tenrikvo kvogigaku shiron,” p. 46.
18. Mahometto, p. 65.
19. Slnlkyd shinpislmgi hassei no kenkvu, p. 414.
20. Ibid.
21. Koran, 3 vols. (Tokyo: Iwanami Slioten, 1957-1958). Izutsu’s translation
with part of the commentary and rubrics omitted. The same below'.
22. Slnlkyd shinpislmgi hassei no kenkyu, p. 424.
23. K o r a n o y o m u (Reading the Koran) (Tokyo: Iwanami Slioten, 1983); rcpt.
ITC 8 (Chuo Koronsha, 1991).
24. Shinpi tetsugaku: Girishia no bu (Philosophy of mysticism: 'The Creek
part) (Tokyo: Tetsugaku Shudoin, 1949; rcpt. Kcio Gijuku Daigaku
Shuppankai, 2010), p. 170.
25. Ishiki to honshitsu: seishinteki Toyd 0 motomete (Consciousness and
essence: In search of the spiritual Orient) (Tokyo: Iwanami Slioten,
1983), p. 213; rept. as Ishiki to honshitsu: Toyoteki shii no kozoteki seigdsei o
motomete (Consciousness and essence: In search of the structural integra­
tion of Oriental thought), ITC 6 (Chuo Koronsha, 1992), p. 187.
26. Isuramu seitan ("Tokyo: Jinbun Slioin, 1979; rept. in FTC 2 ( Chuo
Koronsha, 1993).
27. Mahometto, p. 3.
28. Faust: A Tragedy, trans. Walter Arndt, ed. Cyrus Hamlin, 2nd cd. (New
York: WAY. Norton & Co., 1976; rept. 2001), p. 3. Cited in Mahometto, p.
22; the Japanese translation was, of course, bvToshihiko I/.utsu.
29. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. 170. "The Goethe quotation is found in the entry for 11
April 1827, in J.P. Eckermann’s Gesprciehe mit Goethe, cd. Ludwig Geiger
(Leipzig: M. Hesses, 1902; rept. 1908), 1: 367; Conversations of Goethe
with Fckennann and Soret, trans. John Oxenford (London, 1S50; rept.
Cambridge: Cambridge Library Collection, 2011), 1: 387.
30. Mahometto, p. 23.
31. Ibid., p. 48.
 Ibid. pp. 51-52.
*> V Ibid. p. 51.
s4 - Ibid. p. 39.
Ibid. p. 29.
36. Ibid. p. 30.
S / • Ibid.
->—
P- 5 7 -
’,8- Ibid. pp. 65-66
i 9 - Ibid. p. 116.

C I I A I ’T K K FIVK

Catholicism
1. Shinpi tetsugaku: Ginshia no bn (Philosoplw of mysticism: The Cheek
part) (Tokyo: Taketsugu Slmdoin, 1949; rept. Keif) Cijuku Oaigaku
Slnippankai, 2010); rexised edition w ith new preface (Kyoto: jinbnn
Shoin, 1978); rept. I I"C 1 (Child Kdronsha, 1991), p. 14
2. “Shinpislnigi no erosuteki keitai: Sei Beruuaru-ron” (The mysticism of St
Bernard), Tetsugaku (Philosophy) 27 (1951), 31-64; rept. in Yonm to kaku,
PP- 3 5 9 -^ 9 5 -
3. Ibid., p. 380.
4. Ibid., p. 362.
3. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. 340 (ITC 1: 34).
6. “Shinpislnigi no erosuteki keitai,” p. 363.
7. Ibid., p. 380.
8. Liber ad milites lempli: De laude novae militiae (Book to the Knights
Templar; In Praise of the New Knighthood) in The Works of Bernard
of Clairvaux 7: Treatises 3: On Grace and Free Choice. In Praise of the
New Knighthood, trails. Conrad Greenia (Kalamazoo, MI: Cistercian
Publications, 1977), p. 129.
9. Pierre Riche, Petite vie de Saint Bernard (Paris: Desclee de Brouwer,
1989), p. 83.
10. Inferno, Canto 28: 22-27, Irans- Robert Pinsky (New York: Karrar, Straus
and Giroux, 1994), pp. 294-295; cited in Mahonietto (Muhammad)
(Tokyo: Kobundo, 1952; rept. Kodansha, 1989), pp. 18—19.
11. “Shinpislnigi no erosuteki keitai,” p. 384.
12. Ibid., p. 385.
13. “Gaburicri: ‘Gcndai Arabia bungaku no slniryfi’” (Gabrielis “Corrcnti
e figure della lcttcratura araba eontemporanea”), in 7 'da Kenkvujohd
 ( R e p o r t s o f t h e E a s t A s i a n I n s t i t u t e ) 3 ( 1 9 3 9 ) , 3 0 - 4 6 ; r e p t. in Yoinu to
kaku, p p . 4 6 4 - 4 8 4 . 'T h e G a b r ie li a rtie le o r i g i n a lly a p p e a r e d i n Orients
Moderno 19,2 (1939), 1 1 0 - 1 2 1 .

14. (M a d rid : Im p ren ta de E stan islao M a e stre , 19 19 ); Islam and the Divine
Comedy, trans. H aro ld S u n d e rlan d ( L o n d o n : J. M u r r y , 19 2 6 ; rept.
R o u tled ge, 2008).

13 . “ S h i n p i s h u g i n o e r o s u t e k i k e i t a i , ” p. 3 7 0 .

16. Ibid.

17. I b i d . , p. 3 7 1 .

1 8 . “ S h i to s h u k y o t e k i j i t s u z o n : K u r o d e r u - r o n ” ( P o e t r y a n d r e l i g i o u s e x i s ­
t e n c e : O n C l a u d e l ) , / oseisen ( W o m e n ' s L i n e ) 4 , 1 1 ( 1 9 4 9 ) , 4 0 - 4 8 ; r e p t . in
Yomu to kaku, p p . 3 3 2 - 3 4 9 ; “ K u r o d e r u n o s h i t e k i s o n z a i r o n ” ( C l a u d e l ’s
p o e t i c o n t o l o g y ) , Mita Bungaku ( M i t a L i t e r a t u r e ) 4 3 ( 1 9 5 3 ) , 3 4 - 4 - ; r e p t .
i n Yomu to kaku, p p . 3 9 6 - 4 1 3 .

19. Language and Magic: Studies in the Magical Function of Speech ( T o k y o :

K c i o In s titu te o f P h i l o l o g i c a l S t u d i e s , 1 9 5 6 ; rept. K e i o U n iv e r s it y P re ss,
2011).

2 0 . “ S h i to s h u k y o t e k i j i t s u z o n , ” p. 3 3 7 .

21. “ S h i t e k i s o n z a i r o n , ” p. 3 9 6 .

2 2. “ S h i to s h u k v o t e k i j i t s u z o n , ” p. 3 3 7 .

23. I b i d . , p. 3 3 3 .

2 4 . I b i d . , p. 3 3 6 .

23. “ R e l i g i o n ct p o e s i e ” ( R e l i g i o n a n d p o e t r y ) , in Positions et propositions,

2 vols. (P a ris : G a l l i m a r d , 1 9 2 9 - 1 9 3 4 ) ; r e p t . i n CEuvres en prose ( P r o s e
w o r k s ) ( P a r i s : G a l l i m a r d , 2 0 0 6 ) , p. 5 9 ; Ways and Crossways, t r a n s . J o h n
O ' C o n n o r ( L r e c p o r t , N Y : B o o k s f o r L i b r a r i e s P r e s s , 1 9 3 3 ; r e p t . 1 9 6 7 ) , p. 3;
c i t e d i n “ S h i t e k i s o n z a i r o n , ” p. 4 0 6 .

2 6 . “ T r a i t e d e la c o - n a i s s a n e e a n m o n d e e t d c s o i - m e m e ” ( T r e a t i s e o n t h e
“ c o - n a i s s a n e e ” o f th e w o rld a n d o f o n e s e l f ) in Art poetique (Art o f poetry)
( P a r i s : M e r e u r e d e L r a n e e , 1 9 0 7 ) ; r e p t . in CEuvre poetique (P o etic works)
( P a r i s : G a l l i m a r d , 2 0 0 2 ) , p p . 1 4 7 - 2 0 4 ; c i t e d i n “ S h i t e k i s o n z a i r o n , ” p. 4 0 8 .

27. “ S h i to s h u k y o t e k i j i t s u z o n , ” p. 3 3 3 .

2 8 . “ S h i t e k i s o n z a i r o n , ” p. 4 0 0 .

29. Ibid.

30. Presence et prophetic ( P a r i s : L g l o f f , 1 9 3 3 ; r e p t . 1 9 4 7 ) , p p . 2 4 9 - 2 3 0 ; c i t e d in

“ S h i t e k i s o n z a i r o n , ” p. 4 0 2 .

31. Franzosischer Ceist im zwanzigsten fahrhundert ( T h e L r e n c h sp ir it in th e

t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y ) ( B e r n : L r a n c k e , 1 9 3 2 ; r e p t . 1 9 6 3 ) , p. 1 1 3 ; c i t e d in “ S h i
to s h u k v o t e k i j i t s u z o n , ” p. 3 3 4 .
 32 . “ P o n t i g n y , ” in Der lYeuc \ lerkur ( N o v c m b r c 1922), 4 1 9 - 4 2 5 .

■55. Iki 110 (The structure of ‘iki') (Tokvo: Iwananii Slioten, 1930; rej^t.
kozo
Kadokawagakugei Shuppan, 2011); Reflections on Japanese 'taste: The
Structure of Iki , trails. Sakuko Matsui and John Clark (Svdncv: Power
Publications, 1997; lcpl- 2°°7)-
54. thizai no uta: Knki Slnlzo no sekai ( S o n g o f n o n -b e in g : T h e w orld o f
S liiizo K nki) (T okvo: I B S B u ritan ik a, 1990).

55. Propos sur fe temps: deux communications faites a Pontigny pendant la

decade S = iS aout / 9 2 S ( C o n s i d e r a t i o n s o n t i m e : 'I w o e s s a y s d e l i v e r e d at
P o n t i g n v d u r i n g t h e decade 8 - 1 8 A u g u s t 1 9 2 8 ) ( P a r i s : P. R c n o u a r d , 1 9 2 8 ) ;
“ C o n s i d e r a t i o n s o n d i m e , ” in S t e p h e n b i g h t , Slnlzo Knki and fcau-Paul
Sartre: Influence and Counter-influence in the Early I listorv of Existential
Phenomenology ( C a r b o n d a l c : S o u t h e r n I l l i n o i s U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1 9 8 7 ) , p.
641115.

56. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. 51 ( I T C 1: 2 2 4 ) .

57. In The Concept and Reality of Existence ( ' T o k y o : K eio Institute o f C u lt u r a l
a n d L in g u is t ic S tu d ie s, 19 71), pp. 5 7 - 1 4 9 .

5 8 . “ T h e N o t i o n o f ' T i m e a n d R e p e t i t i o n in O r i e n t a l T i m e , ” in Slnlzo Kuki

and fean-PauI Sartre, p. 4 6 .

59. Ibid.

4 0 . I b i d . , p. 4 8 .

41. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. 4 4 ( I T C 1: 2 3 5 ) .

4 2 . T h e p r e s e n t a t i o n h e m a d e at t h e s y m p o s i u m h a s b e e n t r a n s l a t e d in
Overcoming Modernity: Cultural Identity in Wartime Japan, e d . a n d tr a ils .
R i c h a r d F. C a l i e h m a n ( N e w Y o r k : C o l u m b i a U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 2 0 0 8 ) , p p .

77- 91 ­
43. Sukora tetsugaku joron ( I n t r o d u c t i o n to s c h o l a s t i c p h i l o s o p h y ) ( ' T o k y o :
K a t o r i k k u K c n k y u s h a , [ 19 2 9 ] ) ; rept. as Keijijogaku joron ( I n t r o d u c t i o n to
m etap h y sics) (T o k yo : F n d e r u r e s h o tc n , 1948).

4 4 . “ S h i n p i s h u g i n o k e i j i j o g a k u ” ( " T h e m e t a p h y s i c s o f A lvstik) in Yoshimitsu

Yoshihiko T.enshu 4 (T o k v o : K o d a n s h a , 1984).

4 5 . “ S h i n p i s h u g i to n i j i s s e k i s b i s o ” ( A lyslik a n d t w e n t i e t h - c e n t u r y t h o u g h t ) in
Yoshimitsu Yoshihiko Zenshu 4 : 3 - 2 7 at p. 3.

46. Ibid.

47. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. ii ( P T C 1: 1 9 3 - 1 9 4 , w ith m i n o r r e v i s i o n s ) .

48. Ibid.

4 9 . “ S h i n p i s h u g i n o k e i j i j o g a k u , ” p. 81.

50. I b i d . , p. 1 1 3 .

51. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. 6 2 ( I T C 1: 2 5 1 ) .

M)
 52. Koshoku to liana ( S e n s u a l i t y a n d flow ers) (T o k y o : C h i k u m a S lio b o , 19 6 3 ;
rcpt. 1 9 7 0 ) .

53. Kobavashi Hideo: Oclii Yasuo Zensakuhin (H id eo K obavash i: T b e c o m ­

plete w o rk s o f Y a s u o O e lii), ed. F is u k e W a k a in a t s u (T o k y o : K e io G iju k u
D a ig a k u S h u p p a n k a i, 2010).

34. The Mind and Heart of Love: Lion and Unicorn: A Study in Eros and
Agape ( L o n d o n : F a b e r a n d F a b e r , 1 9 4 6 ; r e v . e d . C l e v e l a n d : W o r l d
P u b l i s h i n g C o . , 1 9 6 2 ) ; Ai no rogosu to patosu, t r a i l s . T o s b i b i k o l z u t s u a n d
F u m i k o S a n b e ( T o k y o : S o b u n s h a , 1 9 3 7 ; rept. j o e h i D a i g a k u S b u p p a n b u ,
1967).

3 3 . '“ A r e k a k o r e k a ’ to ‘A r e m o k o r e m o ’ : D a s l u n o Ai no rogosu to patosu

o v o i n u ” ( ' T h i s o r t h a t ’ a n d ‘ t h i s a n d t h a t ’ : R e a d i n g D ’A r c y ’s I'he Mind
and Heart of Love), i n Kobavashi biideo: Oclii Yasuo 7 ,ensakuhin (1 I i d e o
K o b a v a s h i: T h e c o m p le te w orks o f Y a s u o O e lii), pp. 1 4 3 - 1 7 9 .

36. The Mind and Heart of Love, p. 2 2 ; t b e l a t t e r h a l f o f t b e q u o t e is c i t e d in

“ D a s l n n o A i no rogosu to patosu 0 yoinuf p. 1 3 3 .

37. The Mind and Heart of Love, p. 1 6 6 .

58. Ai to rogosu to patosu, p. 2.
59. The Mind and Heart of Love, p. 1 7 4 . f o r C l a u d e l ’s p a r a b l e s e e , “ P arabolc
d ’A n i m u s e t d ’A n i m a : P o u r fa i r e c o m p r e n d r e c e r t a i n e s p o e s i e s d ’A r t h u r
R i m b a u d , ” in Positions et propositions, p p . 2 7 - 2 8 ; “ T h e P a r a b l e o f A n im u s
and A n im a ,” t r a i l s . W a l l a c e F o w l i c , Poetry 8 7 , 3 ( 1 9 3 3 ) , 1 4 1 - 1 4 3 .

6 0 . P r e s u m a b l y t h i s is a r e f e r e n c e to t b e r e p o r t o f t b e V a t i c a n ' s W o r k i n g
G r o u p o n N e w R e l i g i o u s M o v e m e n t s ; cf. P o n t if ic a l C o u n c i l for C u l t u r e
a n d P o n t if ic a l C o u n c i l for I n t e r r e lig io u s D i a l o g u e , 2 0 0 3 , S e c t i o n 3.5,
c it e d in R o b e r t K u g e l m a n n , Psychology and Catholicism: Contested
Boundaries ( C a m b r i d g e : C a m b r i d g e U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 2 0 1 1 ) , p. 2 2 9 .
61. Watakushi no aishita shosetsu ( A n o v e l 1 h a v e l o v e d ) ( T o k y o : S h i n c h o s h a ,
1 9 8 5 ; rept. 19 8 8 ) .

62. Kirisuto 0 hakonda otoko: Pauro no shogai ( T h e m a n w h o carried C h rist:

T h e life o f P a u l) ( T o k y o : K o d a n s h a , 19 8 7 ; rept. N i h o n K irisu to k yo d an
S h u p p a n k y o k u , 1998).

6 3 . I b i d . , p. 1 9 2 . A l t h o u g h “ s p i r i t u a l i t y ” is u s u a l l y t r a n s l a t e d i n t o J a p a n e s e
w it h t b e c h a r a c t e r s m e a n i n g “ s p i r i t ” a n d “ n a t u r e ” ( H I T ) , ln o u e uses the
c h a r a c t e r s that m e a n “ h e a r t (or n a tu re ) that se e k s th e t r u t h ” ( T i t i Y ' or T
iti'IT). T h i s is a k e y t e r m f o r l n o u e a s a n i n t e l l e c t u a l a s w e l l a s o n e t h a t
e x p r e s s e s his f u n d a m e n t a l ra iso n d ’ etre as a priest.
64. Isliiki to sonzai no nazo : am shukvosha to no tciiwa ( T h e ridd le o f c o n ­
scio n sn ess and b c i n £5:: D i a l o g u e w ith a re lig io n s person) (T okvo:
K fx la n sh a , 1996).

6 5 . T a k a h a s l i i T a k a k o n o ‘‘ n i k k i ” ( “ D i a r v ” o f T a k a k o T a k a h a s l i i ) ( T o k y o :
K f x l a n s h a , 2 0 0 5 ) , p. 74 .

66. Ibid., pp. 3 3 - 3 4 .

C H A P T K R SIX

W ords and W O R D

1. hni no kdzd: Koran ni okeru shukvd clotoku "(linen no bunseki (T h e struc­

t u r e o f m e a n i n g : A n a n a l y s i s ot e l h i e o - r e l i g i o n s c o n c e p t s in t h e K o r a n )
( T o k v o : S h i n s c n s h a , 1 9 7 2 ) ; rev. e d . I T C 4 ( C l n l o K o r o n s h a , 1 9 9 2 ) .

2. ITC 4: 27.
3. F o r e w o r d to Isuranni seitan ( T h e birth o f Islam ) (T o k vo : jin b n n S lio in ,
1 9 7 9 ) ; r e p t. in I T C 2 ( C h n o K o r o n s h a , 1 9 9 3 ) , p p . 9 - 1 2 , at 1 0 - 1 1 .

4. Sonzai ninshiki no inichi: sonzai to lionshitsn ni tsnite ( T h e path o f o n to ­

lo gical c o g n itio n : O n e x iste n ce and esse n ce ) (T okvo: Iw a n a m i S h o tc n ,
1 9 7 8 ) ; rept. I T C 10 ( C h n o K o r o n s h a , 19 9 3 ).

5. “ T c t s u g a k n t c k i i m i r o n ” ( P h i l o s o p h i c a l s e m a n t i c s ) , Keid Gijnku Daigaku

Gen go Bunka Ken kv 11jo Shoho ( B u lle tin o f the K e io Institute o f C u lt u r a l
a n d L i n g u i s t i c S t u d i e s ) 6 ( 1 9 6 7 ) , 2 - 3 ; r e p t . in Yonm to kaku, pp. 4 1 4 - 4 1 6 ,
at 4 1 4 .

6. “ I z n t s o T o s h i h i k o n o s l u i v o c h o s a k u ni m i n i N i h o n t e k i I s u r a n n i r i k a i ”
( T h e J a p a n e s e u n d e r s t a n d i n g ot I s l a m as s e e n in t h e w r i t i n g s o f T o s h i h i k o
Izntsn),Nihon Kenkvn ( J a p a n e s e S t u d i e s ) 3 6 ( 2 0 0 7 ) , 1 0 9 - 1 2 0 .
7. Isuranni tetsugakn no genzo ( T h e o r i g i n a l i m a g e o f I s l a m i c p h i l o s o p h y )
( T o k v o : I w a n a m i S h o t c n , 1 9 8 0 ) ; r e p t . in I T C 5 ( C h n o K o ro n sh a , 1992),

PP- r > > - 495- at

8. “ C o n g o t e t s u g a k n t o s h i t e n o S h i n g o n ’' ( S h i n g o n : A p h i l o s o p h y o f l a n ­
guage), Mikkydgaku kenkvn ( J o u r n a l o f E s o t e r i c B u d d h i s t S t u d i e s ) 17
(1985) 1 - 2 9 ; re p t. in Yomn to kaku, p p . 2 5 1 - 2 8 6 , at 2 7 3 .

9. I b i d .

10. “ Im i h n n s e t s n riron to K f i k a i : S h in g o n n iik k yo no gengo tetsnga-

knteki k an o sei o s a g u r u ” (K fikai an d the th e o ry o f se m a n tic a r t ic u ­
latio n : E x p lo r in g the lin g u is tic p h ilo s o p h ic a l p o ten tial o f S h in g o n
esoteric B u d d h is m ) , Shisd 7 2 8 ( 1 9 8 5 ) , 1 - 2 1 ; r e p t . in hni no jukanii e: Toy6
 tetsugaku no snii (To the depths of meaning: Fathoming Oriental philoso­
phies) (Tokyo: lwanami Shotcn, 1985), pp. 238-278; rept. in ITC 9 (Chno
Koronsha, 1992), pp. 76-105.
11. Ishiki no keijijogaku: “Daijo kishinrou" no tetsugaku (Metaphysics of eon-
seionsness: The philosophy of the Awakening of Faith in the Mahavana)
(Tokyo: Chno Koronsha, 1993; rept. 2001).
12. Goc/ ancf Man in the Koran: Semantics of the Koranic Weltanschauung
(Tokyo: Keio Institute of Cultural and Linguistic Studies, 1964; rept.
North Stratford, NIT Ayers, 1998), p. 29.
13. “[\V]ohl aber ein Ausdruck der Uberzcugung, daB die rastlose Arbeit
der Zwvisehenzeit es bei aller Andcrsartigkcit crmoglicht hat, heute mit
dem ganzen Naehdruek wisscnsehaftlicher Zielsetzung die Problemc
aufzunehmen, die er—seiner Zeit weit vorauscilcnd —in genialer Wcise
crfaBt hat.” Das Menschheitsgesetz der Sprache als Grundlage der
Sprachwissenschaft (The humanistic law of language as the basis of lin­
guistics) (Heidelberg: Quelle & Meyer, 1964), p. 5.
14. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. 324 (ITC 1: 22).
15. Ibid., p. 144 (ITC 1: 323).
16. “Uber die Ycrschicdenheit des menschliehen Sprachbaues und ihren
Einfluss auf die geistige Entwieklung des Mensehengesehlcehts” (On the
diversity of human language eonstruetion and its influence on the mental
development of the human species), in Andreas Flitner and Klaus Gicl,
eds., Werke in fiinf Bcinden: 3, Sehriften zur Sprachphilosophie (Works
in five volumes: 3, Whitings on philosophy of language (Darmstadt:
Whssensehaftliehe Buchgesellschaft, 1963; rept. 2010), p. 418. “Sie selbst
ist kein W'crk (Ergon), sondern eine Thiitigkeit (Energeia). . . . Sie ist
nehmlieh die sich ew ig wiederholende Arbeit des Geistes, den artie-
ulirtcn Taut zum Ausdruck des Gcdanken fiiliig zu maehen.” For an
English translation of this passage see On Eanguage. On the Diversity
of Human Eanguage Construction and Its Influence on the Mental
Development of the Human Species, trails. Peter Heath (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1999), p. 49.
17. “Kigo katsudo toshite no gengo” (Language as a semiotic activity),
Sanshokuki (Tricoleur) 121 (1958), 11-15; rcpL hi Yomu to kaku, pp. 241­
250, at 245.
18. “Nishiwaki sensei to gcngogaku to watashi” (Professor Nishiwaki, linguis­
tics and I), in insert to Nishiwaki Junzaburo Zenshu bekkan (Supplement
to the complete works of Junzaburo Nishiw aki) (Tokvo: Chikuma Shobo,
1983), pp. 2-4; rept. in Yomu to kaku, pp. 522-524, at 524.
19. “Shi toshitc no lzulsu Tosh ill iko sensei” (Professor Toshihiko l/.ulsn as a
teaehcr), in insert to ITC 4, pp. 3-6.
20. “Yamai” (Illness) in Furu no Maria: Shislnl (Mary in winter) (Tokvo:
Odoslia, 19S4), pp. 32-33.
21. Sarafan kamishihai: Shislul (Cellophane paper pictnrc-play: A poetrv eol-
lection) (Tokvo: Kashinsha, 2000).
22. Kawashinia is a spceialist on the historv of mid-ninetcenth-ccntnrv
Japanese translations of the New Testament and has done pioneering
work in the stndv of the translations of, and eonnnentaries on, the New
Testament bv the early Amcriean missionaries to Japan Jonathan Goble
(1S27—1896) and Nathan Brown (1807-1886): Jonasan Goburu kenkvu
(Stndv of Jonathan Goble) (Tokyo: Shinkyo Shnppansha, 1988); Jonasan
Goburu vaku Matai fukuinsho no kenkvu (Stndv of Jonathan Cobles trans­
lation of the Gospel of Matthew) (Tokvo: Akashi Shoten, 1993); Sleisan
Buraun to shin'yaku zensbo (Nathan Brown and the New Testament)
(Tokvo: Shinkvo Shnppansha, 2008). Through this research we have been
able to confirm that, in addition to the translation of the Bible bv James
Curtis 1 lcpbnrn (1815-1911) and others that was aimed at the intelligentsia,
there was vet another history of biblical translations in Japan that sought
to carry the Gospel dircctlv to the souls of ordinary people. Yoshinori Yagi
(1911-1999) wrote an cssav on Kawashima’s Jonasan Goburu kenkvu (Stndv
of Jonathan Goble), in which we learn that Kawashinia was over fiftv when
lie first encountered Goble; he began to stndv Greek and spent the next
thirteen years doing research on the subject.
23. “Tsnito lzntsn Tosliihiko: Sarntorn o kocnasai” (A11 obitnarv for Ibshihiko
lzntsn: Surpass Sartre), Genryu 10 (1996), 27-33.
24. Manv students audited these lectures, including future literarv critic Jim
Lto (1932-1999) and novelist Masao Yamakawa (1930-1965).
25. Preface to the revised edition ot Sliinpi tetsugaku, ITC 1: 12.
26. Afterword to Imi no fukami e (To the depths of meaning), p. 292 (ITC 9:
604).
27. 'The Meaning of Meaning: A Study of the Influence of Language upon
Thought and of the Science of Symbolism (London: Kegan Paul Trench
Trnbner, 1923; 4th cd. rept. Roiitledgc/Thoemmcs, 2002), p. 8.
28. Imi no imi (The meaning of meaning) (Tokyo: Kobnnsha, 1936; rept.
Shinscnsha, 2008).
29. Ibid., p. 5.
30. S50go ni miserarcta tensai: G.K. Ognden (C.K. Ogden: The genius tasci-
nated by 850 words) (Tokyo: I loknseido Shoten, 2007).

VS
 31. “A Glance at the Development of Semiotics,’’ trans. Patricia Baudoin, in T h e
F r a m e w o r k o f L a n g u a g e (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, C1980), p. 7.

32. Afterword to h v i n o f u k a m i e, p. 293 (ITC 9: 605).

33. “Bunka to gengo arayashiki: ihunkakan taiwa no kanosci no mondai o
megntte” (Culture and linguistic c7 /cm/-conseiousness: On the question
of the possibility of dialogue with other cultures), in G e n c l a i b u n m e i n o
k i k i t o j i c l a i n o s e i s h i n (The crisis of contemporary civilization and the
spirit of the times) (Tokyo: lwanami Shoten, 19S4), pp. 87-124; rept. in
h n i n o f u k a m i e, pp. 46-83, at 59 (ITC 9: 44-73, at 54).

34. R o s h i a t e k i n i n g e n : k i n d a i R o s b i a b u n g a k u s h i (Russian humanity: A his­

tory of modern Russia literature) (Tokyo: Kobundo, 1953); new edition
(Hokuyosha, 1978); rept. ITC 3 (Cliuo Koronsha, 1992), p. 79
35. L a p o e s i e p u r e , a r e a U n d e b a t s u r l a p o e s i e p a r R o b e r t d e S o u z a (Pure
poetry, with A discussion of poetry by Robert dc Souza) (Paris: Crassct,
1926; rept. 1937). In the preceding quote, Izutsu referred to him honorifi-
callv as “M. Bremond” because he was not only a distinguished scholar of
literature but also a Catholic priest.
36. "Shi to shukvoteki jitsuzon: Kurooderu-ron” (Poetry and religious exis­
tence: On Claudel), J o s e i s e u (Women’s Line) 4,11 (1949), 40-48: rept. in
Y o m u to k a k u , pp. 332-349, at 337.

3 7 - T h e A r t o f P o e t r y , trans. Denise Folliot (New' York: Vintage, 1958; rept.

Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1989), p. 72.
38. K a n j i h y a k u w a (A hundred stories about Chinese characters) (Tokvo:
Chuo Koronsha, 1978; rept. 2003), p. 19.
39. The character j u (H) of j u n o docs not refer to a curse; it is etymologically
related to i w a u (Ho), to celebrate or congratulate, and is also read as i n o r u
(pray); it was probably at a later period, Shirakawa writes, that it came to
acquire the meaning “to curse.’’ Shirakaw'a uses the expression j u e b i n (H
fit) in the same sense as j u n o .
40. K a n j i (Characters) (Tokvo: lwanami Shoten, 1970), p. 3.
41. I s h i k i to h o n s h i t s u , p. 233 (ITC 6: 186-187).
42. K a n j i , p. 30.
43. ' L a n i g a w a K e n i c h i Z e n s b u 19: f i n b u t s u 2 (The complete works of Ken’iehi
Tanigawa 19, Persons 2) (Tokyo: Fuzanbo Intanashonaru, 2008).
44. “Izutsu Toshihiko-kun to no kosai” (My friendship with Toshihiko
Izutsu), in 7 e g a n t i n o t a n o s h i m i (The pleasures of letters) (Tokvo: Bungei
Shunjfi, 1981), p. 41.
43. T a n i g a w a K e n ' i c b i Z e n s f i u 19: f i n b u t s u 2: 390-391.
46. “Hon chi poeme” (Gift of the Poem), in C o l l e c t e d P o e m s a n d O t h e r
\me, trails. L.l I. and A.i\1 . Blaekmore (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2006; rept. 2008), pp. 26-29. 'Phe translation in the japane.se text is In
jnn/abnrd Nisliiwaki.
47. “Lcs Klenrs” (Mowers), C o l l e c t e d W o r k s , pp. 14-15.
48. “The Relation of I labit 11a 1 Thought and Behavior to Language,” in
l a n g u a g e , C u l t u r e , a n d P e r s o n a l i t y : K s s a y s in M e m o r y o f K d n a r d S a p i r ,
ed. Leslie Spier, et al. (Menasha, Wl: Sapir Memorial Pnblieation blind,
1941; rept. Westport, ON: Greenwood Press, 1983), p. 90.
49. “‘Mivu’ no sekai” ( The world of mivu), in Man'vdslnl nukigaki (Manvdshfi
excerpts) (Tokvo: lwananii Slioten, 1980; rept. 2000).
50. “Imiron josetsn: Minna no shisd no kaisetsn o kanctc” (hit rod net ion to
semantic' theory: With a commentary on Intellectual aspects of folktales),
in Akihiro Satakc’s Minna no shisd (Intellectual aspects of folktales)
(Tokyo: Child Koronsha, 1990), pp. 247-271; rept. in Yomu to kaku, pp.
306-327.
51. “‘Mivu’ no sekai,” p. 30.
52. “Nijisseikimatsn no vami to liikari” (Darkness and light at the end of the
twentieth century). Child Kdron (Gentral Review) 108,1 (1993), 222-240;
rept. in PPG Bekkan (Tokvo: Gliiid Koronsha, 1993), pp. 369-399, at 396.
53. Ishiki to honshitsu, p. 52 (PPC 6: 47).
54.Ibid.
55. lbicb, p. 53 (PPG 6: 48).
56. Shinpi tetsugaku, p. 83 (ITC 1: 269).
57. Shoki Manyd-ron (On the early Manyo) (Tokyo: Child Koronsha, 1979;
rept. Chnokoron-Shinsha, 2003), pp. 12-13.
58. Aeeording to Shizuka Shirakawa, H (rei), the character for “spirit," is said
to be patterned on the characters for a priestess Mix(miko) praying for rain
PbCio (amagoi). It originally meant the descent of the divine spirit, he
savs, then gradually came to express the divine spirit itself, and later came
to include all tilings related to the divine spirit. The character S I here has
absolutely nothing to do with >OSE, the souls of the dead; it signifies the
works of the Transcendent, another name for Absolute Reality.
59. “Gcngo flrudo toshite no naka” (Waka as linguistic field), Bungaku
52,1 (1984), 44-53; “Ishiki flrudo toshite no naka" (Waka as cognitive
field), Bungaku 52,12 (1984), 10-22; and “Sliixcn mandara: ishiki flrudo
toshite no naka" ( Phe mandala of nature: Waka as cognitive field), in
Koza Tovd shisd 16: Nihon shisd 2 (Lectures on Oriental thought 16:
japanese thought 2 (Tokyo: lwananii Slioten, 1989), pp. 219-261. See also
 her English-language essay, “The Aesthetic Structure of W a k a , ” in T h e
T h e o r y o f B e a u t y i n t h e C l a s s i c a l A e s t h e t i c s o f J a p a n (The Hague/Boston/

London: Martinus Nijhoff, 1981), pp. 3-25.

60. “Shizen mandara,” p. 224.
61. C h u s e i n o h u n g a k u c l e n t o : w a k a b i i n g a k u r o n (The literary tradition of the
Middle Ages: On w a k a literature) (Tokyo: Nihon Hoso Sluippan Kyokai,
1940; rept. Iwanami Shoten, 1985).
62. “Watashi no sansatsu” (My three books), 7 o s h o (Books) 454 (1988), 11-12;
rept. in Y o i n u to k a k u , p. 448.
63. C h u s e i n o h u n g a k u d e n t o , p. 31.

64. Ibid., p. 70.

CHAPTERSEVEN
Translator of the Heavenly World
1. Koran, 3 vols. (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1964; rept. 2004), 3: 339.
2. K o r a n , 3 vols. (Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1938). The comment was made
in an interview with Nasrullah Piireevadi, “lzutsu-sensei to no saigo no
kaiken” ('The last interview with Professor Izutsu), translated by Takashi
lwami and Akira Matsumoto and published in the insert to ITC 11.
3. K o r a n (1964/2004), 1: 5 (ITC 7: 17).
4. Ibid., (ITC 7: 17-18)
3. K o r a n o y o m u (Reading the Koran) (Tokvo: Iwanami Shoten, 1983); rept.
in ITC 8 (Chuo Koronsha, 1991).
6 . Ibid., p . 1 9 8 .

7. T h e S t r u c t u r e o f t h e E t h i c a l T e r m s i n t h e K o r a n : A S t u d y i n S e m a n t i c s
(Tokyo: Keio Institute of Philological Studies, 1959); rev. ed. E t h i c o -
R e l i g i o u s C o n c e p t s i n t h e Q u r ' a n (Montreal: McGill University Press, 1966).

8. K o r a n (1958), 3: 321.
9. K o r a n (1964/2004), 2: 296 (ITC 7: 828).
10. Afterword to U n i n o f u k a n i i e : T o r o t e t s u g a k u n o s u i i (To the depths of
meaning: Fathoming Oriental philosophy) (Tokvo: Iwanami Shoten,
1985), p. 292 (ITC 9: 604), cited above in Chapter six, p. 170.
11. M a h o m e t t o (Muhammad) (Tokyo: Kobundo, 1932; rept. Kodansha, 1989).
12. Ibid., p. 98.
13. K o r a n (1938), 3: 321.
14. Commentary to the revised translation of the Koran. K o r a n (1964/2004),
1: 300 (ITC 7: 834).
 15. K o r a n o v o m u ITC 8: 216.
16. K o r a n (1964/2004), 3: 311 (ITC 7: 845).
17. Afterword to the reyised transhition of the K o r a n (1964/2004), 3: 33S.
18. Official translation of Yoro/uvo on the Tenrikyology website, accessed 4
January 2013: http://tcnrikyology.com/29/post-26-report-aug-200S/.
19. S h i i k v o s h i n p i s h u g i h a s s e i n o k c n k v n (A study of the deyclopiuent of reli­
gious mysticism (Nara: Tenri Daigaku Shuppanhu, 1966), p. 414.
20. K o r a n (1958), 3:2770.
21. F u n b o r u t o (Humboldt) (Tokyo: Kobundo Shobd, 1938).
22. I p p a n g e n g o g a k u to s h i t e k i g e n g o g a k u (General linguistics and historical
linguistics) (Osaka: Zosliindo, 1947), P- 9­
23. “Dotei” (Curriculum \itae), M i t a l l v o r o n (Mita Rcwicw) 800 (1980), 2-3;
rept. in Y o n hi to k a k n , pp. 577—579 -
24. “Koran honyaku gojitsudan” (Reminiscences of translating the Koran),
M i t a H v o r o n (Mita Re\ icw) 683 (1969), 21-27; rept. in Y o n n i to k a k n , pp.
549-560, at 558.
25. T h e F u n d a m e n t a l S t r u e t u r e o f S a b z a w a r i ' s M e t a p h y s i c s (Tehran: McGill
Uniyersity Institute of Islamic Studies, 1968); later published as a chapter
111 T h e C o n c e p t a n d R e a l i t y o f E x i s t e n c e (Tokyo: The Keio Institute of
Cultural and Linguistic Studies, 1971), pp. 57-149.
26. “Sufism, Mysticism, Structuralism: A Dialogue,” R e l i g i o u s T r a d i t i o n s 7-9
(1984-1986), 1-24, at 1-2. “Sfifiziunu to misutishizunui,” trails. Toyoko
Izutsu, S h i s o (Thought) 720 (1984), 22-52; rept. in ITC B e k k a n , pp. 193—
243, at 193. ^
27. S i x l e q o n s s u r l e s o n e l l e s e n s (Paris: Editions dc Minuit, 1976; rept. 1991),
p. 7; L e c t u r e s o n S o u n d a n d M e a n i n g , trails. John Mepliam (Cambridge,
MA: MIT Press, 1978; rept. 1981), p. x.
28. A C o m p a r a t i v e S t u d y o f t h e K e y P h i l o s o p h i c a l C o n c e p t s i n S u f i s m a n d
l a o i s m : I b n ‘A r a b l a n d L a o - t z u , C h u a n g - t z u , 3 pts. in 2 yols. ('Tokyo: Keio
Institute of Cultural and Linguistic Studies, 1966-1967); rcw. ed. S u f i s m
a n d T a o i s m : A C o m p a r a t i v e S t u d y o f K e y P h i l o s o p h i c a l C o n c e p t s ('Tokyo:
Iwanami Slioten, 1983; Berkeley: Uniyersity of California Press, 1984;
rept. 2008). Citations will be from the rewised edition.
29. Ibid., p. 2.
30. Ibid., p. 469.
31. I s u r a m u s h i s o s h i : s h i n g a k u , s h i n p i s h u g i , t e t s u g a k u (History of Islamic
thought: Theology, mysticism, philosophy) ('Tokyo: Iwanami Slioten,
1975); rept. in ITC 5 (Cliuo Koronsha, 1991), pp. 7-330, at 314.
32. A ra b ia tetsugaku, in B u k k y d t e t s u g a k u , K i r i s u t o k y d g a i r o n , A r a b i a t e t -
s u g a k u (Buddhist philosophy; An introduction to Christianity; Arabic phi­
losophy) (Tokvo: Hikari no Shobo, 1948); rcpt. A r a b i a t e t s u g a k u , K a i k y o
t e t s u g a k u (Arahie philosophy, Islamic philosophy) (Tokyo: Kcio Cijuku
Daigaku Shuppankai, 2011), pp. 6-7.
33. “Kaikyo shinpislnigi tctsugakusha Ihun Arab! no sonzairon” (The ontol-
ogv of the Islamic mystic philosopher Ibn ‘ArabT), ' T e t s u g a k u (Philosophy)
25-26 (1944), 332-357; rcpt. in Y o m u to k a k u , pp. 41-62.
34. “Sutizumu to gengo tetsugaku” (Sufism and linguistic philosophy), S h i s d
(Thought) 720 (1984), 1-21; rcpt. in h u i n o f u k a m i e, pp. 197-237, at 213
(ITC 9: 460).
35. “Kaikyo shinpishugi tetsugakusha Ibunu Arab! no sonzairon,” in Y o m u to
k a k u , p. 41.

36. S h i n p i t e t s u g a k u (Philosophy of mystieism) (Tokyo: Tetsugaku Shudoin,

1949; rept. Keio Cijuku Daigaku Shuppankai, 2010), p. 121; rev. ed. 2 vols.
(Kyoto: Jinbnn Shorn, 1978); rept. ITC 1: 303.
37. S u f i s m a n d T a o i s m , p. 226.
38. “Kaikyo shinpishugi tetsugakusha Ibunu Arab! no sonzairon,” in Y o m u to
k a k u , p. 46.

39. Isurainu tetsugaku no genzo (The original image of Islamic philosophy)

(Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1980), p. 290; rept. ITC 5 (Chfio Koronsha,
>9 9 2)- PP- 3 5 ' - 4 9 5 - 4 5 ' ­
40. S u f i s m a n d T a o i s m , p. 216.
41. Ibid., p. 132.
42. I s u r a i n u s h i s o s h i , p. 313.
43. Ibid., p. 311.
44. S u f i s m a n d T a o i s m , p. 136.
45. Ibid., p. 292.
46. Ibid., p. 81.
47. Volume 2 of M e l a n g e s p o s t h u m e s s u r l e s r e l i g i o n s e t V h i s t o i r e d e l a C l i m e :
L e T a o i s m e (Paris: Civilisations du Slid, S.A.E.P., 1950; rept. P.U.F., 1967).

48. “Henri Maspero eta it le premier et, jusqu’iei, aussi bien en Occident
cpi’en Orient, le seul ou presque a a\'oir entrepris la prospection seien-
tifiquc de 1 ’histoire et de la 1 itterature du TaoVme a cette epoque,” L e
T a o i s m e , p. 9.

49. S u f i s m a n d T a o i s m , p. 290.
50. I s h i k i t o h o n s h i t s u : s e i s h i n t e k i T o y o 0 m o t o n i e t e (Consciousness and
essenee: In search of the spiritual Orient) (Tokvo: Iwanami Shoten,
 1983), p. 196. Kept, as I s h i k i to h o n s h i t s i i : ' P d x d l e k i s h i i n o k d z o l e k i s e i
gd.se/ o n i o t o i n e t e (Consciousness and essence: In search of the struc­
tural integration of Oriental thought), ITC 6 (ChfiO Kdronsha, 1992), p.
158. The phrase “muddy and turbid” is taken from the poem “Yii Fu”
( The Fisherman) attributed to Ch’ii Mian, cited by l/aitsn in “Celestial
Journey: M\thopoesis and Mctapbvsics,” in D a s S p i e l d e r C o t t e r m i d d e s
W e n s e h e n T P h e P l a v o f G o d s a n d M e n / L e j e u d e s h o m i n e s et d e s dieu .x.
Franos Jahrbneh 51 (1982), ed. Rudolf Ritscma (Frankfurt am Main: Insel
Yerlag, 1984), pp. 449-477; rept. in I ' h e S t r u c t u r e o f O r i e n t a l P h i l o s o p h y :
C o l l e c t e d P a p e r s o f t h e E r a n o s C o n f e r e n c e 2 (Tokyo: Keio University Press,
2008), pp. 187-214, at 194.
51. I s h i k i to h o n s h i t s i i , pp. 195-196 (ITC 6: 158).
52. Ibid., p. 198 (ITC 6: 160).
55. Ibid., p. 195 (ITC 6: 157).
54. Ibid.
55. Ibid., p. 206 (ITC 6: 166).
56. Ibid., p. 207 (ITC 6: 166).
57. K o s h i d e n (Life of Confucius) (Tokyo: Clmd Kdronsha, 1972; rept.
Clmokoron-Shinsha, 2005k p. 225.
58. Ibid.
59. I s h i k i to h o n s h i t s i i , p. ^loff (ITC 6: 246ff).

C H A P T E R EI GH T
Franos —Dialogue in the Bcvond
1. Izutsu’s lectures have been published in T h e Stru ctu re o f O rien ta l
, 2 vols.. The Izntsn
P h ilo so p h y : C o lle c t e d P apers o f the E ra n o s C o n fe r e n c e
Library Series on Oriental Philosophy 4 (Tokyo: Keio University Press,
2008).
2. “E r a n o s u s d s h o no hakkan ni saishitc: kanslmsha no kotoba” (On the
publication of the Franos yearbooks: Words from the editor), in T o k i
n o g e n s h d g a k u (In time and out of time), Franosu sdsho (Franos year­
book) (Tokvo: llcibonsha, 1990), 1: 11-20; rept. in Y o i n u to k a k u , pp.
592-600. An excerpt from Izutsu’s preface to this book has been trans­
lated as “Reminiscences of Aseona” and published as the Appendix to 7 h e
S t r u c t u r e o f O r i e n t a l P h i l o s o p h y , 1: 285-289. The passage cited here is
found on pp. 288-289.
5. “Reminiscences of Aseona,” p. 285.
4. Ibid., p. 284.

sSl
5. In Roger GocleJ, De Phumanisme a I'hvmain (Paris: Belles-Lettres, 1963);
“The Time of Lranos,” in’Joseph Campbell et al., ech, AIan and rPime:
Papers from the Eranos Yearbooks, trans. Willard R. Trask (Prinecton:
Princeton University Press, 1957: rept. 1983), pp. xiii-x.x. A revised version
with additions translated by Lee B. Jennings is found in Eranos and Its
Meaning (Ascona: Lranos Foundation, 1978), pp. 7-16.
6. “Reminiscences of Ascona,” p. 286.
7. Preface to Isurdnui shinpishugi ni okern pervsona no rinen (The idea of
personality in Islamic mysticism), a translation of R.A. Nicholson’s Phe
Idea of Personality in Sufism by Kivoshi Nakamura (Kyoto: Jinbuu Slioin,
1981), pp. 1-9; rept. in Yomu to kaku, pp. 212-219, at 214. Sec above, p. 67.
8. Ishiki to honshitsu: seishinteki Toro o motomete (Consciousness and
essence: In search of the spiritual Orient) (Tokvo: Iwanami Slioten,
1983), p. 208; rept. as Ishiki to honshitsu: Toydteki shii no kdzoteki seigo-
sei 0 motomete (Consciousness and essence: In search of the structural
integration of Oriental thought), in ITC 6 (Child Koronsha, 1992), pp.
167-168.
9. “'Tetsugakuteki imiron” (Philosophical semantics), Keio Gijuku Daigaku

and Linguistic Studies) 6 (1967), 2-3; rept. in Yomu to kaku, pp. 414-416,
at 416.
10. The World Turned Inside Out: Henry/ Corbin and Islamic Mysticism /
(Woodstock, CN: Spring journal Books, 2003), p. xii.
11. “Eriade aito: ‘Indo taiken’ o megutte” (Mourning Fliade: On his “Indian
experiences”), Yuriika (Eureka) 18 (1986), 68-76; rept. in Yomu to kaku,
pp. 525-540, at 530.
12. “Anri Koruban no Sozoteki sozoryoku ni tsuitc” (On Henry Corbin’s
Creatire Imagination), in Toki no gensbogaku (In time and out of time),
Eranosu soslio (Eranos yearbook), 1: 270. Also worth mentioning is Shin
Nagai’s “Imaginaru no genshdgaku (Censhdgaku to Tovo shiso)” (The
phenomenology of the imaginal [Phenomenology and Oriental thought]),
Shiso (Thought) 96S (2004), 23-39.
13. “The Time of Eranos,” p. 9.
14. “Reminiscences of Ascona,” p. 285.
15. “The Time of Eranos,” p. 7.
16. Eranos and Its Meaning, p. 5.
17. “Reminiscences of Ascona,” p. 285.
18. In Polaritdt des Lebens (Polarity of Life), Eranos Yearbook 36 (1967), cd.
Adolf Portmann and Rudolf Ritscma (Zurich: Rhein-Yerlag, 196S), pp.
379-441; rept. in The Structure of Oriental Philosophy 1: 1-74.
 19. “Daiikkvu no kokusaijin" (A first-class cosmopolitan), blurb for Suzuki
Daisetsu Zeushu (Complete works of Daisclz Suzuki) (Tokvo: Iwanami
Sboten, 1981); repl. in Yoinu to kaku, |)j). 439-440.
20. “Zenleki ishiki no flrudo kd/d” (Tbe Held slruclurc of Zen conscious­
ness), Shisd (Thought) 770 (1988), 4-37; repl. in Kosnmosu to auchi kosu-
uiosu (Cosmos and anti-cosmos), pp. 189-246 ( 1 TC 9: 308-357). The
lecture on which the essay is based is “ The Structure of Selfhood in Zen
Buddhism,” in Sinn und Wandlungen dcs Menschenbildes (Meaning and
Transformation of the Image of I lnmaiiilv). Ifran os Yearbook 38 (1969),
ed. Adolf Porlmann and Rudolf Ritscnia (Zurich: RheinA erlag, 1972), pp.
95-150; repl. in The Structure of Oriental Philosophy 1: 75-135.
21. 'Nihonteki reisei (Tokyo: Dailo Slmppansha, 1944; repl. Kadokawa
Cakugei Sluippan, 2010); Japanese Spirituality, trails. Norman Waddell
(Tokyo: Japan Society for the Promotion of Science, [19721 ; repl. New
York: Greenwood Press, 1988), pp. 11-16.
22. Shiuran s Kvogydshinshd: The Collection of Passages Expounding the True
Teaching, laying, Faith, and Realizing of the Pure Laud (Kyoto: Shinshfi
Otaniha, 1973; 2nd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012).
23. Seugai: The Zen Master (London: Taber and Taber, 1971).
24. “Tozai bunka no korvii” (Kast-West cultural exchange), Mita Hyoron
(Mita Review) 723 (1973), 16-22; rept. in Yoinu to kaku, pp. 561-573.
25. Ibid., p. 567.
26. Suedenhorugu (Tokvo: 1 leigo, 1911; rept. Iwanami Sboten, 2001); Daisetz’s
Japanese biography of Sw'edenborg has been translated by Andrew
Bernstein and published as Swedenborg: Buddha of the North (West
Chester, PA: Swedenborg Toundation, 1996).
27. Imagination creatrice dans le soupsuie dibit ‘Arabi (Paris: Tlammarion,
1958); Tnglish translation. Alone with the Alone: Creative Imagination
in the Sufism of Ibu Arabi, trails. Ralph Manheim, Bollingen Series 91
(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1969; rept. 2008), p. 354.
28. Trans. Leonard Tox (West Chester, PA: Swedenborg Toundation, 1995).
This is the title of the Tnglish translation of tw'o of Corbin’s essays,
“Mundus imaginalis” and “I lermeneuticjue spirituelle eomparce,” pub­
lished under the title Face de Dieu, Pace de Phonnne: I lermeneutique el
soufisme (Paris: Tlammarion, 1983).
29. Cf. Masahito Senoue, Meiji no Snwedenborugu: Osui Arinori Shozo o
tsunagu mono (Sw’edenborg in Meiji Japan: What connects [Arai] Osui,
[Mori] Arinori, [and Tanaka] Shozo) (Yokohama: Shunpusha, 2001).
o. Creative Imagination, p. 355 1141.
31. “Daiikkvu no kokusaijin,” p. 439.
 32. “The Origins and Opus of Eranos: Reflections at the 55th Conference,’’
in Wegkreuzungen/Crossroads/La croisee des chemins, eel. Rudolf Ritsema,
Eranos Yearbook 56 (1987) (Frankfurt am Main: lnsel Verlag, 1989), p. vii.
33. “Reminiscences of Aseona,” p. 287.
34. Shinpi tetsugaku: Girishici no bu (Philosophy of mvstieism: The Greek
part) (Tokyo: Tetsugaku Shudoin, 1949; rept. Keio Gijukudaigaku
Shuppankai, 2010), p. 140; rev. ed., 2 vols. (Kyoto: Jinbun Shoin, 1978);
rept. r i ’C 1 (Chfio Koronsha, 1991), pp. 318-319.
35. Ibid. (ITC 1: 319).
36. “Otto no vedanta tetsugaku e no shiza” (Perspectives on Otto’s Vedanta
philosophy), in lndogaku shoshiso to sono shuen: Bukkvo Bunka Gakkai
jisslulnen Hojo Kenzo Hakushi koki kinen ron bun shit (Ideas on Indian
studies and their dissemination: Collection of essays in honor of the tenth
anniversary of the Research Society of Buddhism and Cultural Heritage
and Dr Kenzo Hojo’s 70th birthday) (Tokyo: Sankibo Busshorin, 2004),
pp. 55-73. Sawai is a religious phenomenologist and also an outstanding
Otto scholar whose scholarly exchanges w'itli lzutsu were mentioned ear­
lier. lzutsu thought highly of Sawai’s work on Indian philosophy.
37. “Ji-ji muge / ri-ri muge: sonzai kaitai no a to" (The world o f ‘non-hin­
drance’: After/traees of ontological deconstruction), Shiso (Thought) 733
(1985), 1-31 and Shiso 735 (1985), 17 -3 7 ; rept. in Kosmnosu to anchi kosu-
mosu, pp. 1-102 (ITC 9: 117-195).
38. West-dstliche Mvstik: Vergleich und Unterscheidimg zur Wesensdeutung
(Gotha: Leopold Klotz, 1926; rept. Munich: Beck, 1971); Mysticism East
and West: A Comparative Analysis of the Nature of Mysticism, trans.
Bertha L. Braeey and Riehenda C. Payne (New York: Macmillan, 1932;
rept. 1976), p. 15.
39. “Otto no vedanta tetsugaku e no shiza,” p. 55.
40. lshiki to honshitsu, p. 235 (ITC 6: 188).
41. “Kosmnosu to anehi kosumosu,” rept. in ITC 9: 124.
42. Gioacchino da Fiore: I tempi, la vita, il niessaggio (Joachim of Fiore: His
times, his life, his message) (Rome: Collezione meridionale editriee, 1931;
rept. Cosenza: Lionello Giordano, 1984).
43. Our know ledge of Joaehimism in Japan is mainly dependent on trans­
lations of these two works: Chusei no vogen to sono eikyo: Yoakinnislnigi
no kenkyu, trans. Yoshivuki Ohaslii (Tokyo: Yasaka Sliobo, 2006) and
Fiore no Yoakimu: Seio shiso to mokushiteki shumatsuron (Joaehim of
Fiore: Implicit esehatology and Western thought), trans. Yoko Miyamoto
(Tokyo: I Ieibonsha, 1997).
44. “Friade aito: ‘Indo taiken’ o nieguttesee above mi.
45. Fliadc completed three volumes, trans. Willard R. Trask, Alf I lilteheitel
and Diane Apostolos-Cappadona (Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
1978-1985).
46. “Friadc aito,” p. 527.
47. Ibid., p. 554.
48. “C b o s a k u s l n l no kanko ni atatte” (On the publication of mv selected
works), in PPC 1: 472.
49. Isununu b u n k o : sono kontei ni oru mo n o (Islamic culture: The elements
that make up its foundation) (Tokvo: hvanami Shotcn, 1981; rept. 1994);
rept. in ITC 2: 189-361.
50. Serious studv of the Traditionalist school has vet to he undertaken in
Japan. Islamic scholar Masataka Takeshita (1948- ) took note of the
Traditionalist school at a relatively earlv date, but that interest did not
become widespread. Translations of Nasr’s works have been published in
Japanese, but even though his name has become well known, he is almost
never discussed as a member of the Traditionalist school. Recentlv, in
“Furitehofu Simon to Izutsn Toshihiko” (Frithjof Schuon and Tosh ill iko
lzutsii). J o u r n a l of R e l i g i o u s S t u d i e s 83,4 (2010), 1422-1423, Kdjird
Nakamura (1936- ) considered the similarities and differences between
the ideas of these two men. Two hooks bv Coomaraswamv were translated
in the first half of the twentieth centurv, hut thev were regarded at the
time as studies of Indian art, not as works on Traditionalist thought: Indo
o vo bi T d n a n A j i a b i ju t su s h i (I listorv of Indian and southeast Asian art),
a translation of l listorv of I n d i a n a n d I n d o n e s i a n A r t (1927) bv Chikyd
Yamamoto (Tokyo: Ilokkai Shuppansha, 1944); and I n d o b i j u t s u s h i
(History of Indian art), trans. Rokuro Sobu and Masmni Iwasaki (Tokvo:
Kdryilsha, 1916); rept. Bijutsu sosho (Art scries) 5 (Tokyo: Kankdkai, 1930).
51. “Kaikvo tetsugaku shokan: Korubansho Isu rdniu t e t s u g a k u s h i hdvaku
shuppan no kikai” (Perspectives on Islamic philosophv: On the occasion
of the publication of the Japanese translation of Corbin’s Histoire de la
p h ilo s o p h ic is lamique), Tosbo (Books) 294 (1974), 36-42; rept. in Yomu to
kaku, pp. 485-492, at 492.
52. Preface to Isurdniu s b i n p i s h u g i ni okeru p e r u s o n a no rinen e, in Yomu to
k a k u , p. 213.
53. 7 bree M u s l i m Sages: A v i c e n n a , S u h r a w a r d l , Ibn A r a b 1 (Cambridge, MA:
1 Iarvard University Press, 1964; rept. Delmar, NY: Caravan Books, 2007),
p. 120. Asm-Palacios is mentioned in a footnote to this sentence on p. 169.
54. On the Selmon w'cbsitc, www'.frithjof-schuon.com/interview.htm,
accessed 21 January 2013.
55. S h i n p i tets ugaku , p. 46 (PPC 1: 237, with minor revisions).
56. R en e G u e n o n : S o m e Observations
*K
(Ghent, NY: Sophia percnnis, 2004).
57. hi S e a r c h o f the S a c r e d : A C o n v e r s a t io n with S e y y e d Hossein N a s r on His
(Santa Barbara: Praeger, 2010), p. 92
L i f e a n d 't h o u g h t
58. “The Occult in the Modern World,” a paper given in 1974 and reprinted
in O c c u l t i s m , W i t c h c r a f t , a n d C u l t u r a l F a s h io n s : E s s a y s in C o m p a r a t i v e
R e l ig io n s (Chieago: University of Chicago Press, 1976; rept. 1995).
59. “Creation according to lbn ‘Arab!,’’ in S e e i n g G o d E v e r v w h e r e : E ssa y s on
N a t u r e a n d the S a c r e d , ed. Barry McDonald (Bloomington, IN: World
Wisdom, 2003; rept. 2005), pp. 137-159.
60. tmi no kozo: Koran ui okeru shfikyd dotoku g a i n e n no b u n s e k i ('The struc­
ture of meaning: An analvsis of cthieo-religious concepts in the Koran)
(Tokvo: Shinsensha, 1972), a translation bv Shin’va Makino of T h e
S t r u c tu r e of the E t h i c a l T e rm s in the K or a n : A S t u d y in S e m a n t i c s ; autho­
rial editions to rev. ed. 1 TC 4 (Tokyo: Child Koronsha, 1992), p. 14.
61. S u f i s m a n d T a o i s m : A C o m p a r a t i v e S t u d y of th e K e v P h i l o s o p h i c a l
C o n c e p t s (Tokyo: hvanami Shoten, 1983; Berkeley: University of
California Press, 1984, rept. 2008), p. 469.
62. tmi no kozo , ITC 4: 19.
63. Ishiki to h o n s h it s u , pp. 131-132 (ITC 6: 108).

C H A P T E R N I NE
Consciousness and Essence
1. ts h ik i to h o n s h i t s u : s e i s h i u t e k i T o y A 0 m o t o m e t e
(Consciousness and
essence: In seareh of the spiritual Orient) (Tokyo: hvanami Shoten, 1983),
p. 430; rept. as Is h ik i to h o n s h i t s u : T o y o t e k i s h ii no k o z o te k i s e ig o s e i 0
moto m ete (Consciousness and essence: In seareh of the structural integra­
tion of Oriental thought), ITC 6 (Child Koronsha, 1992), p. 340.
2. “Ishiki to honshitsu: Tovo tetsugaku no kyojiteki kozoka no tame ni”
(Consciousness and essence: For a svnehronie structuralization of
Oriental philosophy). Serialized in S h i s o (Thought), June 1980 to
February 1982. S h is o 672 (1980), 1-13; 673 (1980), 86-99; 678 (1980), 1-19;
681 (1981), 68-87; 687 (1981), 40-59; 690 (1981) 88-107; 691 (1982), 44-67;
692 (1982), 1-24.
3. Ibid.
4. Foreword to the revised edition of S h i u p i tetsugaku (Tokvo: Jinbun Shoin,
1978), rept. ITC 1 (Cliuo Koronsha, 1991), p. 14.
5. Afterword to tm i 110 f u k a i n i e: Tovo t e t s u g a k u no su ii (To the depths of
meaning: Fathoming Oriental philosophy) (Tokyo: hvanami Shoten,
1985), p. 301; rept. in ITC 9 (Cliuo Koronsha, 1991), p. 612.
 6. Ibid., p. 702 (ITC 9: biz).
7. Ibid.
8. “Sliiso to geijutsn” (Art and thought), \ l i t a B u n ^ a k u 67,15 (1988), 22-47;
rcpt in ITC Bek kan (Child Kdronslm, 1995), pp. 527-568, at 554.
9. Imi no fu k a m i e, p. 502 (Id'C 9: 612).
10. Ibid., pp. 502-505 (ITC 9: 612).
11. Ishiki to h o n sh itsn , p. 455 (ITC 6: 542-545).
12. Introduction to K v o d o v e n s d r o n (On collective illusion), in Yoshinioto
T a k a a k i ' / e n c h o s a k u s h u (Collected works of Takaaki Yoshinioto), 11
(Tokvo: Keiso Sliobd, 1972), p. 10.
15. “Tsnini to batsu ni tsuite II” (On Crime and Punishment 1 1 ) in Kohayashi
l Video Zenshu (Complete works of I lideo Kobavashi) (Tokvo: Shinchoslia,
2004), 6: 224.
14. Ishiki to h o n sh it su , p. 455 (ITC 6; 545).
15. “Lorsqu’il sc piic docilcmcnt a cc qnc 11011s attendons dc 1 11i, ccla prouve,
lc pins sonvcnt, qu’il cst dcponrvu dc vie propre et epic 110ns n’avons entre
les mains qn'iine depouillc.” L e R o i n a n e i e r et ses pers o n n aQ e s (Paris:
Lditions R.-A. Correa, 1955), pp. 126-12-7.
16. S h i n p i tetsu^aku, p. vi (ITC 1: 197).
17. Ishiki to h o n sh itsn , p. 211 (ITC 6: 170).
18. Ibid., pp. 5-4 (ITC 6: 9).
19. “‘Yomu’ to ‘kaku ” (“Reading” and “writing”), Ris o (Ideal) 600 (1985),
2-8; rcpt. in Yomu to k a k u , pp. 417-425, at 422.
20. “Derida no naka no ‘Yndavajin’” (The “Jew” in Derrida), Sh iso (Thought)
711 (1985), 21-57; rcph hi b/// no (u k a m i e, pp. 87-120 (ITC 9: 561-587).
21. Izutsu translates “nothingness” in the title with the Japanese word kvonni
nihilitv) rather than the more usual n u i (M).
22. “Mita jidai: Sarutoru tetsugaku to no deai” (The Mita \ears: Mv eiieoun-
ter with Sartre’s philosophv), M i t a B i m g a k u 64,5 (1985), 12-15; rcpt. in
Yomu to k a k u , pp. 496-499, at 497.
25. “Izutsu Tosh ill iko no koto” (About Toshihiko Izutsu), insert to ITC 1, pp.
“ ■)*
24. Oto (Nausea), trails. Koji Sliirai (Tokyo: Seijisha, 1947).
25. “Mita jidai,” p. 497.
26. Ibid., p. 498.
27. N a u s e a , trails. Lloyd Alexander (Norfolk, CT: New Directions, 1949). pp.
126-127. The translation in the Japanese essay was by Izutsu himself.
28. Ishiki to honshitsn, pp. 7-8 (ITC 6: 12).
29. “Mita jidai,” p. 49S. **
30. T h e C o n c e p t a n d R e a l i t y o f E x i s t e n c e (Tokyo: Keio Institute of Cultural
and Linguistic Studies, 1971), p. 132, citing L ’E t r e et F essence (Being and
essence) (Paris: ). Vrin, 1948), p. 301.
31. “Mitai jidai,” p. 498.
32. “Bungaku to shiso no shinso” (The depths of literature and thought),
S e k a i (World) 470 (1985), 230-258; rept. in ITC Bekkan, pp. 7-33, at 10.
33. Ibid., p. 11.
34. Ibid.
35. Ishiki to ho nsh it su , p. 3 (ITC 6:9).
36. Ibid., p. 4 (ITC 6: 10).
37. “Une idee fondanientale de la phenomenologie de Husserl: l’inten-
tionnalite,” in C r i t i q u e s l i t t e r a i r e s ( S i t u a t i o n s I) (Paris: Calliniard,
1947), pp. 29-32, at 30; “A Fundamental Idea of Husserl’s Philosophy:
Intentionalitv,” trans. Chris Turner, in C r i t i c a l E s s a y s ( S i t u a t i o n s I)
(London; New York: Seagull Books, 2010), pp. 40-46, at 43.
38. “Keijijogakuteki jikan” (Metaphysical time), in K u k i S h u z o Y.e nsh u
(Tokvo: lwanami Shoten, 1980), p. 192.
39. S o n z a i to j i k a n , trans. Jitsunin Terashima, 2 vols. (Tokyo: Mikasa Sliobo,
19 '5 9 _19 4 °)-
40. “Tetsugaku shiken” (i\h personal \’iew of philosophy), in K u k i S h u z o
Z e u s h i i 3: 106.
41. “Odoroki no jo to guzensei” (Contingenev and the feeling of surprise), in
K u k i S h u z o Z e n s h u 3: 175.
42. S h i n p i te t s u g a k u , p. 19 (ITC 1: 214).
43. Ibid., p. 20.
44. Ishiki to h o n s h i t s u , p. 22 (ITC 6: 23).
45. Ibid. (ITC 6: 23-24).
46. Ibid., p. 153 (ITC 6: 125).
47. Ibid., p. 211 (ITC 6: 169).
48. Ibid., p. 210 (ITC 6: 169).
49. Ibid., p. 251 (PPC 6: 200).
50. Cf. Chapter 12 of S u f i s m a n d T a o i s m : A C o m p a r a t i v e S t u d y of K e y
P h i l o s o p h i c a l C o n c e p t s (Tokyo: lwanami Shoten, 1983; Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1984).
51. Ishiki to h o n s h i t s u , p. 255 (PPC 6: 203-204).
52. Ibid., p. 256 (PPC 6: 204).
53. Ibid., p. 255 (ITC 6: 204).
54. Ibid., p. 101 (ITC 6: 85).
55. Ibid., p. 190 (ITC 6: 157).
56. Ibid., p. 125 (ITC 6: 103).
57. Ishiki no keijijogaku: “ D a i j o kish in ro n" no tetsugakn (Metaphysics of con­
sciousness: The philosophy of the A w a k e n i n g o f Paith in the M a h a y a n a )
(Tokyo: Chuo Koronsha, 1993).
58. Ishiki to h o n sh itsu , p. 329 (ITC 6: 261).
39. Ibid., p. 186 (ITC 6: 150).
60. Ibid., p. 101 (ITC 6: 85).
61. Ibid., p. 222 (ITC 6: 178).
62. S h i n p i te ts ugakn , p. 269 (ITC 1: 83).
63. Ishiki to h o n sh it su , p. 128 (ITC 6: 106).
64. “Zen ni okeru gengoteki imi no inondai” (Problems of linguistic mean­
ing in Zen), Riso (Ideal) 501 (1975), 8-17; rept. in Ishiki to h o n s h it s u , pp.
367-3S9, at 377 (ITC 6: 297-30S, at 299).
65. Ishiki to h o n sh itsu , p. 222 (ITC 6: 178).
66. Ibid., p. 80 (ITC 6: 68).
67. Ibid., pp. 77-78 (ITC 6: 67).
68. “Imiron josetsu: M i m v a no shiso no kaisetsu o kanete” (Introduction to
semantic theory: With a commentary on Alin w a no shiso), in Al in w a no
shiso (Intellectual aspects of folktales) (Tokyo: Chuo Koronsha, 1990), pp.
247-271; rept. in Yomu to kaku, pp. 306-327, at 319.
69. Ishiki to honshitsu, p. 234 (ITC 6: 1S8).
70. Ibid., p. 78 (ITC 6: 67).
71. Ibid., p. 251 (ITC 6: 200).
72. Ibid., p. 8 (ITC 6: 13).
73. Ibid., p. 251 (ITC 6: 200).
74. Ibid., p. 241 (ITC 6: 193).
75. Ibid., p. 240 (ITC 6: 192).
76. Ibid., p. 239 (ITC 6: 191).
77. Ibid., p. 240 (ITC 6: 192).
78. Ibid., p. 241 (ITC 6: 192).
79. “The 1 C h i n g Mandala and Confueian Metaphysics,” in E i n h e i t unci
Verschieclenheit/Oneness a n d Variety/L'un et le divers, Kranos jahrbueh 45
(1976), ed. Adolf Portmann and Rudolf Ritsema (Leiden: Brill, 1980), pp.
363-404; rept. in The St ructu re of O r i e n t a l Ph ilosop h y 2: 39-81, at 58.
80. Ishiki to honshitsu, p. 239 (ITC 6: 191).

m
81. “Gcngo tetsugaku toshitc no Shingon” (Shingon: A philosophy of lan­
guage), Al i k k y o g a k u K e n k y u (Journal of Esoteric Buddhist Studies)
17 (1985), 1-29; rept. in Y o n m to k a k u , pp. 251-286, at 254. This lecture
was later revised and expanded into an essay and published under the
title “Imi bunsetsu riron to Kukai: Shingon niikkyo no gengo tetsuga-
kuteki kanosei o saguru” (Kukai and the theory of semantic articulation:
Exploring the linguistic philosophical potential of Shingon esoteric
Buddhism), S h i s o (Thought) 728 (1985), 1-21; rept. in Im i no f u k a m i e, pp.
238-278 (ITC 9: 76-105).
82. lshiki to honshitsu, p. 238 (ITC 6: 191).
83. Ibid.
84. Ibid., p. 241 (ITC 6: 193).
85. Ibid.

CHAPTER TEN
The Philosophy of Mind
1. S h i n s b is h i k i e n o m i c h i (The road to depth consciousness) (Tokyo:
Iwanami Shoten, 2004), p. 158, see also 185.
2. K a w a i L la y a o : s h i n r i r y o h o k a no t a n j o (llayao Kawai: The genesis of a
psychotherapist) (Tokyo: Toransubvu, 2009), p. 338.
3. Alyo e: y u n i e 0 ik iru (Kyoto: Shohakusha, 1987; rept. Tokyo: Kodansha,
1995); English translation, T h e B u d d h i s t Priest Alyoe: A L i f e of D r e a m s ,
trails. Mark Unno (Venice, CA: Lapis Press, 1992).
4. A L i f e o f D r e a m s , p. 120.
5. Ibid., pp. 129-130.
6. “Ji-ji muge/ri-ri muge: sonzai kaitai no a t o " (The world o f ‘non-hin­
drance’: After/traces of ontological deconstruction) first came out in
two installments in the journal S h i s o 733 (1985), 1-31, and 735 (1985),
17-37; rept. in K o s u m o s u to a n c h i k o s u m o s u , pp. 3-102 and ITC 9:
117-195. lzutsu’s 1980 Eranos Lecture, “The Nexus of Ontological
Events: A Buddhist View of Reality,” was first published in G r e n z e n a n d
B e g r e n z u n g / E x t r e m e s a n d B orders, Eranos Aearhook 49 (1980), ed. Adolf
Portmann (Frankfurt am Main: Insel Verlag, 1981), pp. 357-392; rept.
in T h e S t r u c t u r e o f O r i e n t a l P h i l o s o p h y 2: 151-186. The translation of
Kawai s summary of Izutsu’s ideas in A L i f e of D r e a m s , pp. 192-195, uses
slightlv different terminology
7. “Idle Nexus of Ontological Events,” pp. 175-176.
8. Ibid., p. 176.
9. Ibid., p. 180.
10. Kcnvai l l a v a o : m o n o i d tori o ik ir n ( I k i v a o K a w a i : L i v i n g t h e s l o r i c s )
(T okyo: T o ra n su b y ii, 2010).

n . Isliiki to h o n sh it su , p. 1 0 1 ( I T C 6 : Sc;).

12. Ibid., p. 102 (kl’C 6: 85).

13. I b i d . , p. 1 0 1 ( l ' l ’C 6 : 8 5 ).

14. “Yungu sliinrigaku to Toyo shiso” (Jungian psychology and Oriental

thought) (rans. Tovoko Izutsu, Sh iso ("Thought) 708 (1983), 1-35; rept. in
rrC B e k h a n ( Tokyo: Child Kdronsha, 1993), pp. 243-303. [Translator's
note: Although a transeript of this eollocpiv is listed in the “James
Ilillman Checklist” at the Pacifica Graduate Institute, which houses
the Hillman papers, Dr Sharon Rossi, executive director of the OPUS
Archives & Research Center, was unable to locate it. I would like to take
this opportunity to thank her for her efforts.)
15. Ihid., pp. 255-256.
1 6 . A L ife of D r e a m s , p. 4 7.

17. R e-visio n in g Psychology (New York: Harper and Row'c, 1975; rept.
I IarperCollins, 1992), p. 9.
18. “ Y u n g u s h i n r i g a k u to T o y o s h i s o , ” p p . 2 4 7 - 2 4 8 .

19. Isliiki to honshitsu, p. 233 (ITC 6: 187).

20. K a n s o (Impressions) (Tokyo: Sogcnsha, 1959); rept. in K o b a y a s h i Hicleo
Z e n s l n i , B ek h an 1 (Complete works of llidco Kobayashi, supplement 1)
(Shinchosha, 2002), p. 28.
21. Isliiki to h o n sh itsu , p. 234 (ITC 6: 187).
22. “Nijisscikimatsu no vami to hikari” (Darkness and light at the end of the
twentieth century), C h u d Koron (Central Review') 108,1 (1993), 222-240;
rept. in PTC B e k h a n , pp. 369-399.
23. “A r a b c s u k u : U utsu T o sh ih iko -sh i o ita m u ” (A rab esq u e: M o u r n in g
T o s h i h i k o I z u t s u ) , C h u o Koron 1 0 8 , 4 ( 1 99->)’ 2 3 8 - 2 4 8 ; r e p t in fu ro ku no
hanashi ( S i x t e e n talks) ( T o k v o : C h i l d K d r o n s h a , 19 9 3 ), pp. 4 5 - 6 4 .
2 4 . K u k a i no fu k e i ( K u k a i ’s l a n d s c a p e ) ( T o k y o : C h i l d K d r o n s h a , 1 9 7 5 ; r e p t .
2 0 0 5 ) ; K n g l i s h t r a n s l a t i o n , K u k a i the U n iv e r s a l : S c e n e s fr o m I lis L i f e ,
trans. A k i k o T a k e m o t o ( N e w 'Y o r k : I C C M u s e , 2 0 0 3).

25. “ N i j i s s c i k i m a t s u n o y a m i to h i k a r i , ” in I T C B e k h a n , p. 3 9 7 .

2 6 . “ ‘ H i r a k a r c t a s c i s h i n ’ n o s h i s o k a ” ( T h e t h i n k e r w it h a n “ o p e n m i n d ” ),
b l u r b fo r Purotinosu V.enshu ( T o k y o : C h i l d K d r o n s h a , 1 9 8 6 - 1 9 8 8 ) ; r e p t. in
Yomu to k a k u , p p . 4 4 6 - 4 4 7 .
27. Ibid.
28. K o s u m o s u to a n c h i kosuniosu: I 'o y d tets ugaku no ta me ni (Cosmos and
anti-cosmos: kora philosophy of the Orient) (Tokyo: hvanami Sliotcn, 1989).
29. “Cosmos and Anti-Cosmos: From the Standpoint of Oriental Philosophy,”
given at the Tenri International Symposium 86, held in Tenri, Osaka, and
Tokvo, 12-18 December 1986, and published in C o s m o s , L ife , R e l i g i o n :
B e y o n d H u m a n i s m (Tenri: Tenri University Press, 1988), pp. 99-123.
30. “Ji-ji muge/ri-ri mnge: sonzai kaitai no cl to," in K o s u m o s u to a n c h i kosu-
m o s u , pp. 4-5 (ITC 9: 119).
31. In N e o p l a t o n i c Sa in ts: T h e L iv es o f P r o c l u s a n d Plotin us b y T h e i r S t u d en ts ,
trans. Mark Edwards (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2000), pp.
!-5 3 -
32. Ibid., p. 26.
33. Ibid., p. 17.
34. Ibid., p. 24.
35. “Tosotsnten 110 junrei” (The pilgrimage of heaven), in K i n d a i
S e t s u w a (Modern folktales) 2 (1957); rept. in S h i b a R v o t a r o T a n p e n
Zens//{"/(Complete short stories bv Rvotaro Shiba) 1 (Tokyo: Bnngei
Sluinjn, 2005).
26.
) “Izutsu uehii no sliuen de: C h o e t s u no kotoba Izutsu Toshihiko 0 jvomu”
(On the fringes of the Izutsu universe: T r a n s c e n d e n t a l W O R D s , re ad-
ing Toshihiko Izutsu), S h i n c b d (New’ Currents) 88,8 (1991), 178-185.
C h o e t s u n o k o t o b a : I s u r a m u Y u d a y a t e t s u g a k u ni o k e r u k a m i to h it o
(Transcendental WORDs: Cod and men in Islamie and Judaie philoso­
phy) was published by hvanami Shoten in May 1991.
37. F u r a n s u r n n e s a n s u d a n s h o (Freneh Renaissance literary fragments)
(Tokyo: hvanami Shoten, 1950); rept. as F u r a n s u r n n e s a n s u no hitobit o
(The people of the French Renaissance) (Tokyo: Hakusuisha, 1964; rept.
1997)-
38. “Izutsu uehii no sliuen de,” p. 179.
39. Ibid., p. 181.
40. H i n o K e i z o j is e n e s s e i s h u : T a m a s h i i no k ok e i (Selected essays of 1 lino
Keizo: Hie landscape of the soul) (Tokyo: Shueisha, 1998).
41. “Iigataku yutaka 11a sabaku no hito” (A man of the ineffably fertile desert),
in insert to ITC 8, pp. 3-5, at 3.
42. “Dangai ni vurameku shiroi tanagokoro no mure” (A eluster of white
hands flickering on the preeipiee), in H i n o K e iz o jisen esseishu: T a m a s h ii
no k ok e i , p. 213.
43. “Iigataku yutaka na sabaku no hito (A man of the ineffably fertile desert,”
insert to ITC 8, pp. 3-5, at 3.
44. “Bunka to gengo araya ishiki: ibunkakan taiwa no kanosei o megutte”
(Culture and linguistic r7 /cm/-conseiousness: On the question of the
 possibility of cross-cultural dialogue), in O e n d a i b u n m e i no kiki to jiclai
no se ishin (The crisis of contemporary civilization and the spirit of the
times) ( Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1984), pp. 89-124, at 115; rept. in I w i no
fu k a m i e (To the depths of meaning), pp. 46-83, at 73 (ITC 9: 63).
45. S e i m e i to kajd (Life and excess) (Tokvo: Kawade Sliobo Sbinsha, 1987), p.
81. '
46. Ibid.
47. Ibid., pp. 86-87.
48. S e i no en k a n u n d o (The cyclical movement of life) (Tokyo: Kinokuniya
Shoten, 1992).
49. B u n k a no f e tis h iz u n n i ( The fetishism of culture) ('Tokyo: keiso Sliobo,
1984), p. 9.
50. L'autre s o m m e il (Paris: Gallimard, 1931); rept. ( Euvres com plete s , R om an s,
7930-1934, Denise de Bravura, cd. (Paris: Plon, 1955), 3: 29. 'The O t h e r
S l e e p , trans. Euan Cameron (London: Pushkin, 2001), p. 48; quoted in
B u n k a no fetishizunni, p. 8.
31. L'autre sommeil, in Qsuvres completes, 3: 62, and T h e O t h e r Slee p , p. 103;
q u oted in B u n k a no fetishizunni, pp. 8-9.
52. S e i m e i to kajd, p. 216.
53. “E r a n o s u sosho no hakkan ni saishitc: kanshusha no kotoba” (On the
publication of the E r a n o s Yearbooks: Words from the editor), in Toki no
g e n s h o g a k u (In time and out of time) (Toky o: Hcibonsha, 1990), 1: 11-20;
rept. in Yomu to kaku, pp. 592-600, at 593. Translated as “Reminiscences
of Ascona,” in T h e Structu re of O r i e n t a l P h ilosop h y 1: 283-289, at 283-284.
✓
54. P s y c h e : i n v e n t i o n s d e P a u i r e (Paris: Editions Gallilcc, 1987; rev. ed.
2003), pp. 387-393; English translation, Psyc he: In ven tion s of the Other,
ed. Peggy Kamuf and Elizabeth Rottcnbcrg (Stanford, CA: Stanford
University Press, 2007), 2: 1-6. Although most of Derrida’s works have
been translated into Japanese, for some reason, no translation of Psv che
has vet been published.
55. “‘Kaitai kochiku’: Deconstruction to \va nani ka” (“Deconstruction”: what
is deconstruction?) Sh iso (Thought) 718 (1984), 19-29.
56. B u n k a no f e c h i s h iz u m u , p. 175. K a it a i kochik u (#UTtPiftl), the expression
Maruyama uses to translate d e c o n s t r u c tio n , predates d a t s u k o c h i k u (AftHi
HI), which has become the established Japanese translation of this techni­
cal term, and represents Maruyama’s “reading” of Derrida.
57. uE r a n o s u sosho no hakkan ni saishitc,” p. 592; translated in “Reminis­
cences of Ascona,” p. 283.
58. “Letter to a Japanese Ericnd,” in Psyche 2: 5.
59. As was noted earlier, Derrida’s eore coneept d e c o n s t r u c t i o n is expressed
in Japanese as d a t s u k o z o . Izntsn translates it as k a it c i i . Me presumably felt
that d a t s u k o z o was incapable of adequately expressing the word’s mean­
ing as a radical and/or dimensional change in the basis of existence that
Derrida intended. Maruyama’s translation k a i t c i i k o z o also seems to he
visible behind Izutsu’s choice of words.
60. “Derida no naka no ‘Yndayajin’” (The “Jew” in Derrida), S h i s o ('Thought)
711 (1983), 21-37; repT hi h n i n o f u k c i m i e, pp. 87-120 (TTC 9: 361-387).
61. “Watashi no sansatsu” (My three books), 7 o s h o (Books) 454 (1988), pp.
11-12; rept. in Y o i n u to k a k u , p. 448. Nishida’s Z e n n o k e n k y f i ( Tokyo:
Kodokan, 1911; rept. hvanami Shoten, 2012) has been translated b\’ Masao
Abe and Christopher Ives as An i n q u i r y i n t o t h e G o o d (New' Haven: Yale
University Press, 1990; new ed. 1992).
62. “Ima, naze ‘Nishida tetsugaku’ ka” (\Yhv “Nishida philosophy” now?),
blurb for N i s h i d a K i t a r o Z e n s h u (Complete works of Kitaro Nishida)
(Tokyo: lwanami Shoten, 1988).
63. S h i n p i t e t s u g a k u , p. 18 (ITC 1: 212, with minor revisions).
64. In w'liat follows, I follow Izutsu’s usage in referring to I Ilia Yen rather than
its Japanese counterpart Kegon, i.c. to the organic synthesis produced
by the complex intertwining of three elements: the A v a t a i u s a k a - s u t r a
(Garland Sutra) as saered text; the Hua Yen school and the spiritual tradi­
tion that it has given rise to; and the teachings about it that were further
deepened by, among others, Fa Ts’ang (643-712), the greatest philosopher
of the Chinese Hua Yen school.
65. As noted in Chapter One, “Girishia no shizenshinpishugi: Girishia tet­
sugaku no tanjo” (Greek nature mysticism: The birth of Greek philoso­
phy) would be published as an Appendix to S h i n p i t e t s u g a k u .
66. Cf. “One w'orld system enters all,/ And all completely enters one;/
Their substances and characteristics remain as before, no different:/
Incomparable, immeasurable, they all pervade everywhere.” T h e F l o w e r
O r n a m e n t S c r i p t u r e : A T r a n s l a t i o n o f t h e A v a t a m s a k a S u t r a , trails.
"Thomas Clearv (Boulder: Shambhala Publications, 1984), 1: 215.
67. A n I n q u i r y i n t o t h e G o o d , p. 57.
68. Cf. Z e t t a i m u to k a n i i : K y o t o g a k u h a n o t e t s u g a k u (God and absolute noth­
ingness: 'The philosophy of the Kyoto Sehool) (Yokohama: Slumpusha,
2002).
69. N i s h i d a K i t a r o Z e n s h u (Complete w'orks of Kitaro Nishida) ("Tokyo:
lwanami Shoten, 1948; rept. 2003), 8: 365.
70. Prefaee to J i k a k u n i o k e r u c h o k k a n to h a n s e i (Tokyo: lwanami Shoten,
1917); rept. in N i s h i d a K i t a r o Z e n s h u 2; English translation, I n t u i t i o n a n d
 R e flec tio n in S e l f - c o n s c i o u s n e s s , trims. Viiltlo II. Vigliclmo, Vosliinori
Takeuchi and Joseph Stephen O’Leary (Albnn\‘: State Uniyersity of New
York Press, 19S7), p. xxiii.
71. I s h i k i to h o n s h i t s u , p. 78 (ITC 6: 67). The referenee is to Mallanne’s pref-
aee to Rene Chils 'W a i t e efu V e r h e (1886; Treatise on the Word).
72. Ibid., p. 79 (ITC 6: 68).
73. l l i k a r i n o g e n s h o ° a k u (The phenomenology of light) ('Tokyo: Miova no
1likarisha, 2003), p. 425.
74. B e n n e i s h d j a k d i n v d t a i l e d M u s c l e d (Unhindered light: Benneis system
of the light of graee), Moknsha Tanaka, ed. ( 1 /iiini, Saitama: Mioya no
I likarisha, 1956), pp. 33-34, my italies.
75. B a s h o t e k i r o n r i to s h u k v d t e k i s e k a i k a n ('Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1949);
partial Tnglish translation in “ The Logic of Topos and the Religions
Worldyiew,” trails. Michiko Ynsa, E a s t e r n B u d d h i s t , ns 19,2 (1986), 1-29,
and ns 20,1 (1987), 81-119.
76. “The Logie of T o p o s , " pp. 20-21.
77. S h i n p i t e t s u g a k n , p. 236 (ITC 1: 419).

78. “The Logie of 7 b p o s , " p. 106.

79. “Banyfi seikiron” (On the origin of all things), in B e n n e i s h d j a k d i n v d
l a i k e i m u r y o k o j u (Ben nei s system of the light of graee: The immeasur­
able blessing of light) (Tokyo: Mioya no Hikarisha, 1931), p. 84.
80. “Rinne tensei kara jimsni jizokn e” (From metempsychosis to d i i r c c p u r e ) ,
pp. 509-525 (ITC 1: 175-189).
81. I s h i k i n o k e i j i j o g a k u : “ D a i j d k i s h i n r o n ” n o t e t s u g a k n (Metaphysics of con­
sciousness: The philosophy of the A w a k e n i n g o f F a i t h i n t h e M a h a v a n a )
("Tokyo: Child Kdronsha, 1993), pp. 182-183.

Aftenyord
1. S h in p i tetsugaku: G iris h ia no hu ((Philosophy of mysticism: "The Cheek
part) (Tokyo: Tetsugakn Shndoin, 1949, rept. Keio Cijnkn Daigakn
Shuppankai, 2010), p. 121; rew ed., Jinbnn Slioin, 1978, rept. ITC 1 (Child
Kdronsha, 1991), pp. 302-303.
2. ‘“GeiYei no hitoh lkeda Yasaburd o onion” (Remembering Yasabnrd
Ikeda, “the phantom man”), C h a d K d r o n (Central Rcyicwy) 98,2 (1983),
344-348; rept. in Y o m u to k a k u , pp. 514-521, at 521. 'The phrase “the
phantom man . . . holding up a flow'er” is taken from l a h i h i t o k a e r a z u :
N i s h i w a k i f u n z a h u r d s h i s l n l ( Tokyo: "Tokyo Shnppan, 1948); Lnglish trans­
lation, “No Trayellcr Returns,” in G e n ’e i : S e l e c t e d P o e m s o f N i s h i w a k i
 Ju n za b u ro , 1894-1982, trans. Yasnko Claremont, University of Sydney
East Asian Scries no. 4 (Broadway, NSW: Wild Peony, 1991).
3. Ccncinolnto, p.515.
4. Ibid., p. 521.
5. “‘Yoinn’ to ‘kaku’” (‘'Reading” and “Writing”), R i s o 600 (1983), 2-8; rept.
in Y o i n u to k a k u , pp. 417-425.
6. S h i n p i t e t s u g a k u , p. 323 (ITC 1: 21).
7. B i i c h e r t a g e b u c h (Book diarv) (Bern: Franeke, i960), p. 6.
 Bibliography
1. WORKS BY TOSWIIIKO IZUTSU

Izutsu’s works arc listed chronologically and arc divided into periods fol­
lowing the contents of the volumes of his complete Japanese works (Izutsu
Toshihiko Zenshii; 12 volumes plus supplement) eurrentlv being prepared
bv Kcio Univcrsitv Press. Articles preceded bv an asterisk’1 and with the page
numbers in Y o m u to k a k u (Reading and writing) given in italics are found in
the Appendix at the back of that book. The abbreviation ITC refers to Izutsu’s
collected Japanese works ( I z u t s u T o s h i h i k o G h o s a k u s h u ) published by Clulo
Koronsha, 190)1-1993.

1935-1948, period covered in Izutsu Toshihiko Zenshu (Complete works of

Toshihiko Izutsu) 1: A r a b i a t e t s u g a k u (Arabic philosophy)
“Philosophia haikdn” (Pbilosophv is image). H i t o (1935). Cited in “Izutsu
Toshihiko-kun to no kdsai” (Mv friendship with Toshihiko Izutsu). In
Yasaburd Ikcda, T e g a m i n o t a n o s h i i n i (The pleasures of letters), p. 34. Tokyo:
Bungcishunju, 1981. Rept. Y o m u to k a k u (Reading and writing), p. 331.
“Doza G e n g o c h i r i g a k u ni tsuite (Matsuhara Ilidcji-shi yaku)” (On Oauzat’s
L a g e o g r a p h i c l i n g u i s t i q u e [trails. Hidcji Matsuhara|). M i t a H v d r o n 497
(1939), 42-44. Rept. Y o m u to k a k u , pp. 459-463.
*“Shinkan shdkai” (A review of recent publications). G e n g o K e n k v u (Journal
of the Linguistic Socictv of Japan) 1 (1939), 128-136. Rept. Y o m u to k a k u ,
Appendix, pp. 2-13.
*“Shinkan shdkai” (A review of recent publications). G e n g o K e n k v u (Journal
of the Linguistic Societv of Japan) 2 (1939), 117-126. Rept. Y o m u to k a k i u
Appendix, pp. 14-26.
* “ 1 laidon-hcn ‘Kaikyo no genzai to shdrai’” (Modern trends in Islam |as
seen in M o d e r n ' t r e n d s i n W o r l d R e l i g i o n s ; A. Lustace| I lavdon, eel.). T o a
K e n k y u j o h o (Reports of the Last Asian Institute) 2 (1939), 12-19. Rept.
Y o m u to k a k u , Appendix, pp. 27-36.
“Gaburieri: ‘Gendai Arabia bungaku no shuryiT” (Gabrieli’s “Correnti e fig­
ure della letteratura araba contemporanca”). T o a K e n k y u j o h o (Reports of
the Last Asian Institute) 3 (1939), 30-46. Kept. Y o i i i u to k d k u , pp. 464-484.
*“Saikin no Arabia gogaku: shinkan shokai” (Contemporary studies ofArabie:
A review of recent publications). G e n g o K e n k y u (journal of the Linguistic
Society of Japan) 3 (1939), 110-116. Rept. Y o w u to k c i k u . Appendix, pp.
37- 45-
*“Akkado-go no - 1 1 1 a kobun ni tsuite” (On the syntax of the Akkadian particle
- 1 1 1 a ) . G e n g o K e n k y u (Journal of the Linguistic Society of Japan) 4 (1939),
27-68. Rept. Y o i i i u to k a k u , Appendix, pp. 46-98.
'c“Shinkan shokai” (A review of recent publications). G e n g o K e n k y u (Journal
of the Linguistic Society of Japan) 4 (1939), 106-109. Rept. Y o i i i u to k a k u ,
Appendix, pp. 99-/04.
“ZamafusharT no rinrikan” (Idees ethiques de ZamakhsharT). K a i k v d k e n
(Islamic Area) 4,8 (1940), 3-11 and 4,9 (1940), 11-18. Rept. Y o i i i u to k a k u ,
pp. 3-23.
’"“Shinkan shokai” (A review of recent publications). G e n g o K e n k v u (Journal
of the Linguistic Society of Japan) 6 (1940), 108-111. Rept. Y o i i i u t o k a k u .
Appendix, pp. 705—7/3.
“Arabia bunka no seikaku: Arabiajin no me” (A characteristic feature ofArabie
culture: Arabian eyes). S h i n A j i a (New Asia) 2,10 (1940), 82-94. Rept. Y o i i i u
to k a k u , pp. 26-40.

A r a b i a s b i s o s h i : K a i k y o s h i n g a k u t o k a i k y o t e t s u g a k u (History of Arabic
thought: Islamic theology and Islamic philosophy). Koa Zcnsho (Asian
Development Series). Tokyo: Ilakubunkan, 1941. Introduction rept. in
Izntsu Toshihiko Zenshu 1. S e e a l s o rev. ed. I s u r a m u s b i s o s h i : S h i n g a k u ,
s h i u p i s h u g i , t e t s u g a k u (1973).

H i g a s h i l i i d o n i o k e r u K a i k y o h o s e i : G a i s e t s u (Islamic jurisprudence in Last

India: An oyeryiew). Tokyo: Toa Kenkviijo, 1942.
“Kaikyo ni okeru keiji to risei” (Islamic revelation and reasoning). Paper
delivered at a special conference on philosophy in July 1943. Published
in N i p p o n S h o g a k u K e n k y u H o k o k u (Report of the Committee for the
Development of Seienees in Japan), Tokushu 12: 33-67. 'Tokyo: Monbusho
Kvogakukvoku, 1944. Rept. Y o m u to k a k u , pp. 63-78.
“Toruko-go” ("Turkish). In Keio Gijuku Daigaku Gogaku Kenkviijo (Keio
Institute ot Philological Studies), ed., S e k a i n o k o t o h a : N a n i 0 n i a n a b u b e k i
k a (Languages of the world: What ought to be studied), pp. 109-113. Tokvo:
Keio Shuppansha, 1943. Rept. Y o m u to k a k u , pp. 223-226.
“Arabia-go” (Arabic). In S e k a i n o k o t o h a , pp. 121-128. Rept. Y o m u to k a k u , pp.
*■>
— / -ss-
“I lindosutam-go” (I liudustani). In S e k a i n o k o l o b a , pp. 129-131. Kept. Y o i m i lo
k a k u , pp. 234-236.

“'Iamiru-go” (Tamil). In S e k a i n o k o l o b a , pp. 173-177. Kept. Y o n m to k a k u , pp.

237-240.
“Kaikyo sliinpishugi tetsugakusha Ibunu Arab! no sonzairon” ( I lie ontology
of the Islamic mystic philosopher Ibn ‘Arab!). T e t s u g a k u (Philosophy) 23-26
(1944), 332-337. Kept. Y o n m l o k a k u , pp. 41-62.
“Isuramn shisdsbi" (llistorv of Islamic thought). In Asatard Vasaka, ct ah,
eels., S e i a s e k a i s h i (World history of western Asia). Sekaishi kd/.a (Lectures
on world history), 3: 73-110. Tokyo: kdbnndd Shobd, 1944. Kept. Y o n m lo
k a k u , pp. 79-126.

TMahometto” (Muhammad). In S e i a s e k a i s h i , pp. 249-263. Kept. Y o n m to

k a k u , pp. 127-146.

“Arabia kagakn, gijutsn” (Arabic science and technology). In S e i a s e k a i s h i , pp.

289-300. Kept. Y o n m l o k a k u , pp. 147-139.
“Roshia no naimenteki seikatsn: jfikyfiseiki bnngakii no seisliinsliiteki tenhd”
(Interior life in Russia: A spiritual history perspeetixe on nineteenth-cen­
tury literature). K o s e i (lndiyidualih) 1,3 (1948), 2-20. Kept, as an appendix
to R o s h i a b u n g a k u (2011), pp. 195-241.
A r a b i a t e t s u g a k u (Arabic philosophy). In B u k k y d t e t s u g a k u , K i r i s u t o k y o g a i r o n ,
A r a b i a l e t s u g a k u (Buddhist philosophy; An introduction to Christianity;
Arabic philosophy). Sekai Tetsugaku kd/a (Lectures in world philosophy),
5: 149-305. Tokyo: llikari no Shoho, 1948. Kept. A r a b i a t e t s u g a k u , K a i k y o
t e t s u g a k u (Arabic philosophy, Islamic philosophy). 'Tokyo: keid Gijnku
Daigaku Sliuppankai, 2011. See also ree. ed. I s u r d n m s h i s d s b i : S h i n g a k u ,
s h i n p i s i 111 g i , t e t s u g a k u (1975).

1949-1951, period coyered in Izutsu Toshihiko Zenshii 2: S h in p i tetsugaku

(Philosophy of mysticism)
(Philosophy of mysticism: 'The Creek part).
S h i n p i t e t s u g a k u : G i r i s h i a n o bit
Sekai 'Tetsugaku koza (Lectures in world philosophy) 14. 'Tokyo: Tetsugaku
Shuddin, 1949; rept. keid Gijuku Daigaku Sliuppankai, 2010. Rew ed. 2
yols. kyoto: Jinbun Shoin, 1978. Kept. PTC 1.
“Shi to shfikvdteki jitsnzon: kuroodern-ron'’ (Poetr\' and religious existence:
On Claudel), j o s e i s e n (Women’s Line) 4,11 (1949), 40-48. Kept. Y o n m to
k a k u , pp. 332-349.

Ar a b i a - g o n y u m o u (Introduction to Arabic grammar). Tok\o: keid Sluippansha,

1950. Kept. TTC 2: 1-277 (362-638). Introduction rept. Izutsu 'Toshihiko
Zcnshfi 2.
“Shinpisliugi no erosutcki keitai: Sci Berunaru-ron” (The mysticism of St
Bernard). 7 e t s u g a k u (Philosophy) 27 (1951), 33-64. Kept. Y 0 1 1 1 1 1 to k a k u , pp.
359-3 9 5 ­
1951-1953, period covered in Izutsu Toshihiko Zenshu 3: R o s h ia te k i n in g eu
(Russian humanity)
R o s h ia b u n g cik u (Russian literature). Textbook for a Keio University course,
1951. Tokyo: Keio Gijuku Daigaku Shuppankai, 2011.
AI c i h o i n e t t o (Muhammad). Tokyo: Kobundo, 1952: rept. Kodansha, 1989. S e e
a l s o r e v . ed. I s u r a m u s e i t a n (1979).

“Torusutoi ni okeru isliiki no niujunsei ni tsuite” (On the paradoxical nature

of consciousness in Tolstoy). S a n s h o k u k i (Tricolour) 52 (1952), 9-14. Rept.
Y o m u to k a k u , pp. 350-358.

“hlindosutanT-go” (Hindustani). In Sanki Ichikawa, et ah, eds., S e k a i g e n g o

g a i s e t s u (Overview ot world languages), 1: 171-226. Tokyo: Kenkyusha,
1952; rept. 2001.
R o s h i a t e k i n i n g e u : k i n c l a i R o s h i a h u n g a k u s h i (Russian humanity: A history of
modern Russian literature). Tokvo: Kobundo, 1953. New'edition, Hokuyosha,
1978; rept. Chuo Koronsha, 1989. Rept. 1 TC 3.
“Kuroderu no shiteki sonzairon” (Claudel’s poetic ontology), \ l i t a B u n g a k u
(Mita Literature) 43 (1953), 34-42. Rept. Y o m u to k a k u , pp. 396-413.

1954-1975, period covered in Izutsu Toshihiko Zenshu 4: Isu ra in u sh iso sh i

(History of Islamic thought)
“Arabia-go” (The Arabic language). In Sanki Ichikawa, et ah, eds., S e k a i g e n g o
g a i s e t s u (Overview of w'orld languages), 2: 1156-1221. Tokyo: Kenkyusha,
1955; rept. 2001.
L a n g u a g e a n d M a g i c : S t u d i e s i n t h e M a g i c a l F u n c t i o n o f S p e e c h . Studies in
the Humanities and Social Relations 1. Tokvo: Keio Institute of Philological
Studies, 1956. Rept. as vol. 1 of rhhe Collected Works of Toshihiko Izutsu.
Tokyo: Keio University Press, 2011.
“Arabia bungaku” (Arabic literature). In Takeshi Saito, ed., K e n k y u s h a S e k a i
b u n g a k u j i t e n (The Kenkvusha Dictionary of World Literature), pp. 36-38.
Tokyo: Kenkyusha jishobu, 1954. To be rept. in Izutsu Toshihiko Zenshu 4.
“Toruko bungaku” (Turkish literature). In Takeshi Saito, ech, K e n k y u s h a S e k a i
b u n g a k u j i t e n (The Kenkvusha Dictionary of W'orld Literature), pp. 694-695.
Tokyo: Kenkvusha jishobu, 1954. To be rept. in Izutsu Toshihiko Zenshu 4.
“Perushia bungaku” (Persian literature). In Takeshi Saito, ech, K e n k y u s h a
S e k a i b u n g a k u j i t e n (The Kenkvusha Dictionary of World Literature), pp.
 917-920. lokvo: Kenkyusha Jishohu, 1954. lb he rept. in I/iitsu Toshihiko
'/enshfi 4.
A? n o r o g o s u to p a t o s u . 'Translation ot Martin Cvril ITArcv, I ' h e M i n d a n d
H e a r t o f L o r e : L i o n a n d l h i i c o r n , a S t u d y i n I' Y o s a n d A g a p e b y Toshihiko
I/utsu and Fumiko Sanhe. Tokyo: Sdlnmslia, 1957; rept. jdelii Daigaku
Shnppanhn, 1967. Translator’s introdnetion to he rept. I'/.ntsn Ibsliihiko
/enshfi 4. S e e a l s o under LTArey, Martin Cvril.
Koran. 5 vols. lokvo: hvananii Shoten, 1 ^7—1958. Commentary to he rept. in
Ixntsn Ibsliihiko /enshfi 4.
“Mahonietto to Koran” (Mnl.i annnad and the Koran). B u n k o (Library) 12
(1957), 1^—17. Rept. Y o n m to k a k n , pp. 160-165.
“Kigd katsndd toshitc no gengo” (Language as a semiotie activity). S a n s h o k n k i
( Iricoleur) 121 (1958), 11-15. Kept. Y o n m to k a k n , pp. 241-250.
“Koran to Senya ieliiya monogatari” (The Koran and The Thousand and One
Nights). B u n k o (Lihrarv) 7 (1958), 19-21. Rept. Y o n m to k a k n , pp. 166-171.
“Rehanon kara Beirfito nitc” (From Lebanon: I11 Beirut). M i t a l l y o r o n (Mita
Review) 584 (1959), 40. Rept. Y o n m to k a k n , pp. 545-544.
T h e S t r u c t u r e o f t h e E t h i c a l rB e r m s i n t h e K o r a n : A Study in S e m a n t i c s .
Studies in the I lumanitics and Soeial Relations 2. Tokvo: Keio Institute ot
Philological Studies, 1959. S e e a l s o rev. ed. E t h i c o - R e l i g i o u s C o n c e p t s in t h e
Q u r ' a n (1966). I m i n o k o z o : K o r a n n i o k e r u s l n l k y o d o t o k u g a i n e n n o h i m s e k i

f 197-) -
“Kanada, Montoridru nitc” (In Montreal, Canada). M i t a l l y o r o n (Mita
Review) 592 (1961), 50. Rept. Y o n m to k a k n , pp. 545-546.
“Bosuton nite” (In Boston). AU f a l l y o r o n (Mita Review) 595 (1961), 58-59.
Rept. Y o n m to k a k n , pp. 547-548.
“Revelation as a Linguistic Concept in Islam.” Studies in Medieval Thought
(Japanese Society of Medieval Philosophy, Tokyo) 5 (1962), 122-167.
G o d a n d M a n i n t h e K o r a n : S e m a n t i c s o f t h e K o r a n i c W e l t a n s c h a u u n g . Studies
in the Humanities and Soeial Relations 5. Tokvo: Keio Institute of Cultural
and Linguistic' Studies, 1964. Rept. North Stratford, NIL Ayer Company
Publishers, 1998.
Koran. Rev. ed. 5 vols. 'Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1964; rept. 1996. Rept. TTC
7. Introdnetion to the rewised translation to he rept. in Ixutsu Toshihiko
/enshfi 4.
I ' h e C o n c e p t o f B e l i e f in I s l a m i c T h e o l o g y : A S e m a n t i c A n a l y s i s o f I m a n a n d
Islam . Studies in the Humanities and Soeial Relations 6. Tokvo: Keio
Institute of Cultural and Linguistic Studies, 1965. Rept. North St rat toi cl,
NIL Aver Company Publishers, 1999.
E th ic o -R e lig io u s C o n c e p t s in the O n r 'a n . Montreal: McGill University,
Institute of Islamic Studies;'McGill University Press, 1966; rept. McGill-
Oueen’s University Press, 2010. Rev. ed. of T h e S t r u c t u r e o f t h e E t h i c a l
' T e r m s i n t h e K o r a n : A S t u d y in S e m a n t i c s (1959).

A C o m p a ra tive Stu dy of the Key P h ilo so p h ic a l C o n c e p ts in S u fism and

'T a o is m : I b n A ra b ! and L ao-tzu , C h u a n g - t z u . 3 pts. in 2 vols. Studies in
the Humanities and Social Relations 7 and 10. Tokyo: Keio Institute of
Cultural and Linguistic Studies, 1966-1967. S e e a l s o rev. ed., S u f i s m a n d
T a o i s m : A C o m p a r a t i v e S t u d y o f K e y P h i l o s o p h i c a l C o n c e p t s (1983).

“Tetsugakuteki imiron” (Philosophical semantics). K e i o G i j u k u D a i g a k u

G e n g o B u n k a K e n k y u j o S h o h o (Bulletin of the Keio Institute of Cultural
and Linguistic Studies) 6 (1967), 2-3. Rcpt. Y o m u to k a k u , pp. 414-416.
“The Absolute and the Perfect Man in Taoism.” Paper delivered at the 36th
Lranos Conference, 1967. Published 1968.
rT h e F u n d a m e n t a l S t r u c t u r e o f S a b z a w a r i ' s M e t a p h y s i c s . Coauthored with
Mchdi Mohaghegh. Wisdom of Persia 1. Tehran: McGill University
Institute of Islamic Studies, 1968. Rcpt. S h a r h - i C h u r a r a l - f a r a i d o r S h a r h - i
M a n z u m a h (1969), pp, 1-152, and T h e C o n c e p t a n d R e a l i t y o f E x i s t e n c e

(1970. pp - 57-149-
“The Absolute and the Perfect Man in Taoism.” In Adolf Portmann and
Rudolf Ritsema, eds. P o l a r i t d t d e s Le b e n s (Polarity of life). Lranos Jarbuch
36 (1967), pp. 379-441. Zurich: Rhein-Yerlag, 1968. Rept. T h e S t r u c t u r e o f
O r i e n t a l P h i l o s o p h y 1: 1-74.

S h a r h - i C h u r a r a l - f a r a ' i d o r S h a r h - i M a n z u m a h (Sabzawari’s commentary

on his Blazes of the gems or A eommentarv on a didactic poem). Part
one: Metaphvsics. Coedited with Mehdi Mohaghegh. Wisdom of Persia
1. Tehran: McGill Universitv Institute of Islamic Studies, Tehran Branch,
1969. 2nd ed. 1981.
“The Structure of Selfhood in Zen Buddhism.” Paper delivered at the 38th
Lranos Conference, 1969. Published 1972.
“Koran honvaku gojitsudan” (Reminiscences of translating the Koran). Mita
hlyoron (Mita Review) 683 (1969), 21-27. Rcpt. Yomu to kaku, pp. 549-560.
“’Plie Basie Structure of Metaphysical Thinking in Islam.” Paper delivered at
the Fifth East-West Philosophers’ Conference, Honolulu, 1969. Published
1971.
“A11 Analysis of \\ra h d a t a l - W u j u d . " Paper delivered at the Institute of Asian
and African Studies, I Icbrew Universitv, Jerusalem, winter 1969. Published
1971; translation included in I s u r d m u t e t s u g a k u n o g e n z o (1980).
Book review: A l f a r a b i ' s P h i l o s o p h y o f P l a t o a n d A r i s t o t l e , translated with iu\
introcluetion by Mulisin Mahdi. Itliaeii: Cornell Uni\crsit\ Press, 1968.
P h i l o s o p h y l'ia st a n d W e s t 20,2 (1970), 196-197.

Book review: C r e a t i v e I m a g i n a t i o n i n t h e S u f i s m o f l h n A r a h J , b\ llcnrv

Corbin. Translated bv Ralph Manheini. Prineeton: Prineeton Universitv
Press, 1969. P h i l o s o p h y P a s t a n d W e s t 20,4 (1970), 477-475.
“Mvsticism and the Linguistic Problem of Equivocation in the Thought of
7 \vn al-Ondat al - 1 lamadanT.” S t a d i a I s l a m i c a 71 (1970), 177-170. Transl.
as “Ainii-ru-Knzato Hamadani no shisd ni okern shinpishngi to gengo no
tagiteki yohd no mondai” (1971).
“Sense and Nonsense in Zen Buddhism.” Paper deliverer! at the 79th Kranos
Conference, 1970. Published 1977.
“The Archetypal Image of Chaos in Chnang T/.ii: I he Problem of the
Mythopocic Level of Discourse.” In Joseph P. Strelka, etk. A n a l o g i c
Q u a l i t i e s o f L i t e r a t u r e . Y e a r b o o k o f C o m p a r a t i v e C r i t i c i s m 4: 269-287.
Universitv Park: Pennsvlvania State Uni\ersit\, 1971.
“The Paradox of Light and Darkness in the C a r d e n o f M y s t e r y of ShabastarT.”
In A n a g o g i c Q u a l i t i e s o f L i t e r a t u r e , pp. 288-707.
“The Basie Structure of Metaphvsical Thinking in Islam.” In MahdT Muhaqqiq
(Mchdi Mohaghcgh) and Hermann Landolt, cds.. C o l l e c t e d P a p e r s o n
I s l a m i c P h i l o s o p h y a n d M y s t i c i s m . Wisdom of Persia 4: 79-72. Tehran:
MeCill Universitv, Montreal, Tehran Branch, 1971. Also in I ' h e C o n c e p t
a n d R e a l i t y o f E x i s t e n c e , pp. 1-24.

“The Philosophy of Zen.” In Ravmond Klibansky, cd.. C o n t e m p o r a r y

P h i l o s o p h y : A S u r v e y , pp. 700-522. Llorenee: La Nuova Italia Lditriee, 1971.

“Poetrv and Philosophv in Japan.” Coauthored wdth Tovoko lzntsn. In

C o n t e m p o r a r y P h i l o s o p h y : A S u r v e y , pp. 727-548.

T h e C o n c e p t a n d R e a l i t y o f E x i s t e n c e . Studies in the Humanities and Social

Relations 17. Tokvo: Keio Institute of Cultural and Linguistic Studies, 1971.
“Existentialism Last and West.” In 7 7 /e C o n c e p t a n d R e a l i t y o f E x i s t e n c e , pp.
“>r*_->->
“An Analysis u f W a h d a t a l A V u j i l d : Toward a Metaphilosophv of Oriental
Philosophy.” In T h e C o n c e p t a n d R e a l i t y o f E x i s t e n c e , pp. 77-75.
“The Structure of Selfhood in Zen Buddhism.” In Adolf Portmann and Rudolf
Ritscma, c d s . , S i n n u n d W a n d l u n g e n d e s M e n s c h e n h i l d e s (Meaning and
d ransformation of the Image of 1 lumanity). Kranos Jahrbuch 78 (1969),
pp. 97-170. Zurich: Rhein-Ycrlag, 1972. Rept. T h e S t r u c t u r e o f O r i e n t a l
P h i l o s o p h y , 1: 75-175. Transl. as “Zcnteki isliiki no flrudo kozd” (1988).
“New’ Creation.’’ Paper delivered at Tehran University, May 1972.
**
“Ainu-ru-Kuzato 1 lamadani no sliiso ni okern shinpishugi to gengo no tagiteki
volio no mondai.” Trans. Toshio Knroda. Oriento (Orient) 14,2 (1971), 143­
162. Translation of “Mysticism and the Linguistic Problem of Lquivocation
in the Thought of‘Avn al-Oudat al-Hamadanl” (1970).
“Creation and the ’Timeless Order of Things: A Study in the Mystical
Philosophy of ‘Ayn al-Oudat.” Philosophical Forum 4,1 (1972), 122-140.
“The elimination of Color in Far Eastern Art and Philosophy.” Paper deliv­
ered at the 41st Franos Conference, 1972. Published 1974.
Imi no kozo: Koran ni okcru shukyo dotoku gainen no hunseki (The structure of
meaning: An analysis of ethico-religious concepts in the Koran). Transl. of
The Structure of the EthicalrPerms in the Koran: A Study in Semantics (1959) by
Shin ya Makino. Tokvo: Shinsensha, 1972. Rev. and enl. ed. by author, 1 TC 4.
Introduction to Mahdl Mudarris Ashtivam, Commentary on Sabzawarl's
Sharh-i Manzumah, pp. 1-11. Tehran: McCill Universit\, Institute of
Islamic Studies, Tehran Branch, 1973.
“Sense and Nonsense in Zen Buddhism.” In Adolf Portmann and Rudolf
Ritsema, cds., Mensch und Wort/Wan and Speech/L homme et le verhe.
Eranos Jahrbuch 39 (1970), pp. 1S3-215. Leiden: Brill, 1973. Rcpt. Toward
a Philosophy of Zen Buddhism, pp. 85-119, and The Structure of Oriental
Philosophy, 1: 137-169.
“Far Eastern Existentialism: Plaiku and the Man of Wahi." Coauthored with
Tovoko lzutsu. In Joseph P. Strclka, ed.. The Personality of the Critic.
Yearbook of Comparative Criticism 6: 40-69. Univcrsitv Park: Pennsvlvania
State University Press, 1973.
“Tozai bunka no korvfi” (East-West cultural exchange). Alita I Ivoron (Mita
Review) 723 (1973), 16-22. Rept. Yomu to kaku, pp. 561-573.
“Meditation and Intellection in Japanese Zen Buddhism.” Paper delivered at
the first Rothko Chapel colloquium, “Traditional Modes of Contemplation
and Action,” Houston, July 1973. Published 1977.
“The Interior and Exterior in Zen Buddhism.” Paper delivered at the 42nd
Eranos Conference, 1973. Published 1975.
Collected Texts and Papers on Logic and Language. Coedited with Mahdl
Muhaqqiq (Mehdi Mohaghegh). Wisdom of Persia 8. Tehran: McGill
University, Institute of Islamic Studies, Tehran Branch, 1974.
“Basie Problems of‘Abstract Quidditv.”’ In Collected Texts and Papers on Logic
and Language, pp. 1-25.
“Kaikvo tetsugaku sliokan: Korubansho Isuramu tetsugakushi liovaku shup-
pan no kikai” (Perspectives on Islamic philosophv: On the occasion ot the
 publication of the Japanese translation of Corbin’s /listoirc de la philosophic
islamique). Tosho (Rooks) 294 (1974), 38-42. Kept. Yoimi to kaku, pp. 485-492.
“The Temporal and A-Tciuporal Dimensions of Reality in Confncian
Metaphysics.” Paper delivered at the 43rd Kranos Conference, 1974.
Published 1977.
“Ibn ‘Arabr.” Encyclopaedia Britannica. 15th ed. 1974.
“ The Klimination of Color in bar Kastern Art and Philosophy.” In Aclolt
Portmann and Rudolf Ritsema, eds., Die Welt dcr Farhen/The Realms of
Colour/Le monde des coleurs. Kranos Jahrbuch 41 (1972), pp. 429-464.
Leiden: Brill, 1974. Rept. Toward a Philosophy of / en Buddhism, pp. 219­
253, and The Structure of Oriental Philosophy 1: 171-205.
“The Problem of Ouidditv and Natural Universal in Islamic Metaphysics.”
In ‘Utlnuan Amni, ed.. Etudes philosophiques presentees an Dr. Ihrahim
Madkour, pp. 131-177. Cairo: CKBO, 1974.
“The Philosophical Problem of Articulation in Zen Buddhism.” Rerue Inter­
nationale de philosophic 107-108 (1974), 165-1S3. Rept. rhoward a Philosophy
of Ze?? Buddhism, pp. 121-143.
hurdmu shisoshi: shingaku, shinpishugi, tetsugaku ( 1 listory of Islamic thought:
Theology, mysticism, philosopln'). Tokyo: Iwanami Shotcn, 1975; rept.
Chiio Koron Shinsha, 2005. Rept. 1 TC 5: 7-330.
“Zen ni okeru gengoteki imi no mondai” (Problems of linguistic meaning in
Zen). Risd (Ideal) 501 (1975), 8-17. Rept. Ishiki to honshitsu, pp. 367-389.
1 TC 6: 291-308.
“The Interior and Kxtcrior in Zen Buddhism.” In Adolf Portmann and Rudolf
Ritsema, eds., Die Welt der Entsprechungen/Correspondences in Man and
World/lj C monde des correspondances. Kranos Jahrbuch 42 (1973), pp. 581—
618. Leiden: Brill, 1975. Rept. Toward a Philosophy of r/en Buddhism, pp.
181-218, and The Structure of Oriental Philosophy 1: 207-243.
“Naive Realism and Confucian Philosopln.” Paper delivered at the 44th
Kranos Conference, 1975. Published 1977.
“Two Dimensions of Kgo Consciousness in Zen.” Sophia Perennis 2,1 (1976),
19-37. Rept. Toward a Philosophy of Zen Buddhism, pp. 63-83.
“The Mythopocic Kgo in Shamanism and Taoism.” Sophia Perennis 2,2
(1976), 22-47.
“The I Oiling Mandala and Confucian Metaphysics.” Paper delivered at the
45th ITanos Conference, 1976. Published 1980.
“Mutual Interpenetration of All Pilings.” Paper delivered at the World of
Islam festival, London, 1976. Transl. as “Ji-ji muge/ri-ri 11111ge: son/ai kaitai
no ato” (1985).
“The Temporal and A-Temporal Dimensions of Reality in Confucian
Metaphysics.” In Adolf Portmann and Rudolf Ritsema, eds., Norwen im
Wav del der Zwit/Korms in a Changing World/Avenir et devenir des norms.
Eranos Jahrbueh 43 (1974), pp. 411-447. Leiden: Brill, 1977. Kept. The
Structure of Oriental Philosophy 1: 245-282.
“Naive Realism and Confucian Philosophy.” In Adolf Portmann and Rudolf
Ritsema, eds., Die Vielheit der Welten/The Variety of Worlds/La plurality
des mondes. Eranos Jahrbueh 44 (1975), pp. 579-413. Leiden: Brill, 1977.
Rept. The Structure of Oriental Philosophy 2: 1-37.
“The Concept of Perpetual Creation in Islamic Mysticism and Zen
Philosophy.” In Scvycd Hossein Nasr, ed., Melanges offerts a Henry Corbin,
pp. 115-148. Tehran: Institute of Islamic Studies, McGill University, 1977.
Transl. as “Sozo fudan: Tovoteki jikan isliiki no gentei” (1986).
The Metaphysics of Sahzavan. Translated with Mahdf Muhaqqiq (Melidi
Mohaghegh). Wisdom of Persia 10. Delmar, NY: Caravan Books, 1977;
rept. Tehran: Tehran University Press, 1990.
Kitab al-Qabasat (Mir Damad’s Book of blazing brands). Coedited with
Mahdf Muhaqqiq (Melidi Mohaghegh), A. Musavf Belibahanf and I.
Dfbajf. Wisdom of Persia 7. Tehran: McGill University, Institute of Islamic
Studies, Tehran Branch, 1977. 2nd ed. Tehran University Press, 1988.
“Mir Damad and His Metaphysics.” In Kitab al-Qabasat, pp. 1-15.
“Meditation and Intellection in Japanese Zen Buddhism.” In Yusuf Ibish and
lleana Marculescu, eds., Contemplation and Action in World Religions:
Selected Papers from the Rothko Chapel Colloquium “Traditional Modes of
Contemplation and Action," pp. 275-303. Seattle: University of Washington
Press, 1977. Rept. Toward a Philosophy of Zen Buddhism, pp. 145-179.
Toward a Philosophy of Zen Buddhism. Tehran: Imperial Iranian Academy of
Philosophy, 1977. Rept. [S.I.]: Shambala Publications, 2001.
“Bcvond Dialogue: A Zen Point of View.” Unpublished paper given at the
international symposium “L’impact planctaire de la pcnsce occidental
rcnd-il possible 1111 dialogue reel entre les civilisations?” (Does the global
impact of Western thought make possible a true dialogue among civiliza­
tions?). Tehran, October 1977. Transl. as “Taiwa to hi taiwa” (1979).
"The Theophanie Ego in Sufism: An Analysis of the Sufi Psychology of Najm
al-Dfn Kubra.” Sophia Perennis 4,1 (1978), 23-42.

1978-1980, period covered in Izutsu Posh ill iko Zenshfi 5: S o n z a i kengen

n o k e i j i j o g a k u (The philosophy of ontological manifestation)

“Kanshusha no kotoba” (Words from the editor). Isuramu Koten Sosho

(Classics of Islam series). Tokvo: Iwanami Shoten, 1978.
“ I ozai no tetsugaku” (Oricntnl and occidental philosophies). Colloquy with
Tomonobu linaniichi. Shiso (Thought) 643 (1978), 1-31. Kept. ITC Bekkan,
p p . 35-109.

“Ima, naze ‘Nishida tetsugaku’ ka” (Win' “Nishida philosophy” now?). Blurb
for SUshida Kiiard / enslul (Complete works of Kitard Nishida). 24 vols.
Tokyo: lwanami Sliotcn, 1965-1988.
Sonzai ninshiki no michi: sonzai to housin'tsu ni tsuite (The path of ontological
cognition: On existence and essence). Translation of Mulla Sadra’s Kittib
al-Mashti'ir (Book of metaphysical penetrations). Trans. Toshihiki lzutsu.
Isuramu Koten Sdslio (Classics of Islam series). Tokvo: lwanami Shoten,
1978. Kept. ITC 10. Commentary to he rept. in lzutsu Toshihiko Zenshfi 5.
See also under Sadra, Mulla.
Runn goroku (The discourses of RfimT). Translation of RuniTs Elhi inti fThi.
Trans. Toshihiko lzutsu. lsurninu Koten Sdslio (Classics of Islam series).
Tokyo: lwanami Shoten, 1978. Rept. ITC 11. Commentary to he rept. in
lzutsu Toshihiko Zenshfi 5. See also under Runn, Jalal al Dm.
“The Field Structure of Time in Zen Buddhism.” Paper deliycred at the 47th
Franos Conference, 1978. Published 1981.
Roshiateki ningen (Russian humanity, 1953). New edition. Tokyo: I lokuydsha,
1978. Afterword rept. in lzutsu "I’oshihiko Zenshfi 5.
Shiupi tetsugaku (Philosophy ot mysticism). Re\. ed. zyols. Kyoto: jinbun Shoin,
1978. Rept. ITC 1. f oreword to rew ed. to be rept. in lzutsu I’oshihiko Zenshfi 5.
“Taiwa to hi taiwa: Zen mondo ni tsuite no ieh ikosatsu” (Dialogue and
non-dialogue: Some thoughts on Zen niondds). Shiso (Thought) 655
(1979), 38-53. Rept. Ishiki to honshitsu, pp. 391-426. ITC 6: 309-337. See
also “Beyond Dialogue: A Zen Point of Viewy" (1977).
“The Beardless Face of Bodhidharma: The A-thinking Thinking in Zen
Buddhism.” In Helmut Karl Kohlenberger, ed.. Reason, Action, and
Experience: Essays in Honor of Raymond Klihansky, pp. 95-105. I lambin g:
helix Meiner Vcrlag, 1979.
“Isuramu tetsugaku no genten” (The origin of Islamic philosophy). Lectures
gieen at the lwanami Citizen Lecture series, Tokyo, May 1979. Published
as “Isuramu tetsugaku no genten: shinpishugiteki shutaisci no kogito” (The
origin of Islamic philosophy: Cogito of the subjecthood of mysticism).
Shiso (Thought) 662 (1979), 1-26, and 664 (1979), 114-140. Rept. Isurtimu
tetsugaku no genzo, pp. 1-132. ITC 5: 345-438.
“Isuramu sekai to wra mini ka” (What is the Islamic world?). Colloquy with
Shiuobu Iwamura. Chud Karon (Central Reeiew) 94,6 (1979), 110-123.
Rept. ITC Bekkan, pp. 305-325.
“Between Image and No-lmage: Far Kastern Ways of Thinking.” Paper deliv­
ered at the 48th Kranos Conference, 1979. Published 1981.
Isuramu seitan (The birth of Islam). Tokyo: Jinbun Slioin, 1979; rept. Chfio
Koron Shinsha, 2003. Rept. ITC 2: 7-201. Preface to be rept. in Izntsn
Toshihiko Zcnshfi 5.
“Matter and Consciousness in Oriental Philosophies.” Paper delivered at the
Collocpie de Cordoue, October 1977. Published 1984. Transl. as “Tovo tet-
sugaku ni okcru busshitsu to ishiki” (1987).
“Honshitsu chokkan: Isuramu tetsugaku dansho” (Wesenerschauimg: A brief
note on Islamic philosophy). Risd (Ideal) 559 (1979), 2-22.
“Tsuioku” (Reminiscences). In Yasaburo Ikeda, cd., Kaiso no Kuriyagawci
Fiiiuio (Recollections of Fumio Kuriyagawa), pp. 42-46. Tokyo: Keio
Gijuku Mita Bungaku Library, 1979. Rept. Yount to kciku, pp. 503-508.
“Oriental Philosophy and the Contemporary Situation of Human Existence.”
Paper delivered at the Keio International Symposium, “Dimensions of Global
Interdependence: Harmon\- and Conflict in the Contemporary World,”
Tokyo, December 1979. brans, as “Jitsuzon no gendaiteki kiki to Tovo tet-
sugaku” (Oriental philosophy and the contemporary existential crisis; 1980).
“Kokusai kaigi, gakusai kaigi” (International contcrcnees, interdisciplinary
conferences). Mita Hvoron (Mita Review) 799 (19S0), 2-3. Rept. Yomu to
kciku, pp. 574-576.
“Dotei” (Curriculum vitae). Mita Hvoron (Mita Review) 800 (1980), 2-3.
Rept. Yomu to kciku, pp. 577—579.
“Keio kokusai shinpojiumu shokan” (Reflections on the Keio international
symposium). Mita Hvoron (Mita Reyiew) 801 (1980), 2-3. Rept. Yomu to
kciku, pp. 580-582.
“iMusha shugvo” (A warrior’s training). Mita Hvoron (Mita Reyiew’) 802 (1980),
2-3. Rept. Yomu to kciku, pp. 583-585.
“Shoshi o motomete” (In search of the right teacher). Mita Hvoron (Mita
Review') 803 (1980), 2-3. Rept. Yomu to kaku, pp. 586-588.
“Sonzai kengen no kei ji jogaku” (The metaphysics of ontological manifestation).
In Isuramu tetsugaku no genzd (The original image of Islamic philosophy).
Tokyo: Iwanami Slioten, 1980), pp. 133-210. Rpt. ITC 5: 439-493.
“Shi to hoyii” ('Teachers, colleagues and friends). Mita Hvoron (Mita Review)
803 (1980), 2-3. Rept. Yomu to kciku, pp. 589-591.
“Jitsuzon no gendaiteki kiki to T 5 vo tetsugaku” (Oriental philosophy and the
contemporary existential crisis). Trans. Hideichi Matsubara. In Chikvu
sliakai e no tenbo: Keio kokusai shinpojiumu (Overview of global society:
Keio International Symposium), pp. 197-222. Tokyo: Nihon Seisansci
Ilonbu, 1980. Re\\ and cnl. translation by author “Ningcn sonzai no
 gcndaitcki jokvo to Toyo tetsugaku” in lini no fukanh e, pp. 3-43 (1985) and
ITC 9: 11-43.
T h e /C h i n o Mandala and Confucian Metaphysics.” In Adolf Portmann and
Rudolf Ritscma, cds., Einheit unci Versehiedenheit/Oneness and Variety/
IA i n et le divers. Franos Jalirbnch 45 (1976), pp. 363-404. Leiden: Brill,
1980. Rept. The Slrueture of Oriental Philosophy 2: 39-81.
“Isuramu Iowa nan i ka (Wliat is Islam?). Paper delivered at the japan Cultural
Congress, April 1980. Published as “lsnranui no tnlalsn no kao” (The two
Faees ol Islam; 1980).
Isurainu tetsugaku no genzo (The original image of Islamic' philosophy).
Tokyo: hvanami Sliotcn, 1980. Rept. ITC 3: 331-493. Introduction to be
rept. in l/nlsii Toshihiko Xcnshfi 3.

1980-1981, period covered in Izutsu Toshihiko Zenshii 6: I s h i k i to h o n -

s h i t s u (Consciousness and essence)

“Ishiki to honshitsu: Tdvo tetsugaku no kvdjiteki kozdka no tame ni” (Conscious­

ness and essence: For a svnchronic strueturalization of Oriental philosophy).
Serialized in Shiso (Thought), June 1980 to February 1982. 8 7 ?/,so 672 (1980),
1-13; 673 (1980), 86-99; 678 (1980), 1-19; 681 (1981), 68-87; 687 O981), 40-39;
690 (1981) 88-107; 691 (19(< ^2)’ 44-67; f>92 (082), 1-24. See also Ishiki to
honshitsu (1983).
“Shinpisluigi no konpon kozo: Isurainu tetsugaku no genzo ni tsuite” (The
Fundamental structure of mysticism: On Isurainu tetsugaku no genzo).
Colloquy with Shizuteru Ucda and Tadabiro Onuma. Riso (Ideal) 363
(1980), 2-43. Rept. ITC Bekkan, pp. 137-192.
“Isurainu no futatsu no kao” (The two Faces of (slam). Child Karon (Central
Review) 93,9 (1980), 70-92. Rept. Yonni to kaku, pp. 172-211.
“The Nexus of Ontological Fvcnts: A Buddhist View' of Reality.” Paper deliv­
ered at the 49th Franos Conference, 1980. Published 1981.
“Daiikkyu no kokusaijin” (A first-class cosmopolitan). Blurb For Suzuki
Daisetsu r/enshu (Complete w'orks of Daisetz Suzuki). 40 vols. Tokyo:
Iwanami Shoten, 1980-2003. Rept. Yonni to kaku, pp. 439-440.
Misuzu 1980 reading questionaire. Alisuzu 23,1 (1981), no. 246. Rept. Yonni to
kaku, p. 441.
“Isurainu bunmei no gendaiteki igi” (The contemporary significance
of Islamic civilization). Colloquy w'itli Shuntaro ltd. Ekonoinisulo
(Fconomist) 59:2 (1981.1.20), 86-117. Rept. ITC Bekkan, pp. 111-133.
Preface to Isura mu shinpisluigi ni okeru perusona no rinen (The idea of per­
sonality in Islamic mysticism; a translation of R.A. Nicholson’s The Idea 0/
 Trans. Kivoshi Nakamura, pp. 1-9. Kyoto: Jinbun
P e r s o n a l i t y in S u f i s m ) .
Shoin, 1981. Rcpt. Y o m u to k a k u , pp. 212-219.

1981-1983, period covered in Izutsu Toshihiko Zenshii 7: lsu rciin u b u n k a

(Islamic culture)
Isiirclm u b u n k a : s o u o k o u t e i u i a r u m o n o (Islamic culture: The elements that
make up its foundation). Tokyo: Iwanami Slioten, 1981; rept. 1994. Rcpt.
1 TC 2: 189-361.
“The Field Structure of Time in Zen Buddhism.” In Adolf Portmann and
Rudolf Ritsema, eds., Z e i t a n d Z e i t l o s i g k e i t / l n T i m e a n d O u t o f rP i m e / l , e
t e m p s e t s e s f r o n t i e r s . Eranos Jahrbuch 47 (1978), pp. 379-441. Frankfurt am
Main: Insel Yerlag, 1981. Rept. T h e S t r u c t u r e o f O r i e n t a l P h i l o s o p h y 2: 83-113.
“Between Image and No-Image: Far Eastern Ways of Thinking.” In Adolf
Portmann and Rudolf Ritsema, eds., D e n k e n u n d i n /v t h i s c h e B i k b v e l t !
T h o u g h t a n d M y t h i c I m a g e s ! I m a g e m y t h i q u e e t p e n s e e . Eranos Jahrbuch
48 (1979), pp. 427-461. Frankfurt am Main: Insel Yerlag, 19S1. Rept. T h e
S t r u c t u r e o f O r i e n t a l P h i l o s o p h y 2: 115-150.

“The Nexus of Ontological Events: A Buddhist View of Reality.” In Adolf

Portmann and Rudolf Ritsema, eds., G r e u z e u u n d B e g r e n z u n g / E x t r e m e s
a n d B o r d e r s / L e s e x t r e m e e t l a l i m i t e . Eranos Jahrbuch 49 (1980), pp. 357—
392. Frankfurt am Maim Insel Yerlag, 1981. Rept. T h e S t r u c t u r e o f O r i e n t a l
P h i l o s o p h y 2 : 151-186.

“Oriental Philosophy in Face of the Spiritual Crisis in the Contemporary

World.” Paper delivered at the symposium, “Lcs crises spirituelles et intel-
leetuelles dans le monde contemporain,” Rabat, November 1981. Published
in L e s c r i s e s s p i r i t u e l l e s e t i n t e l l e c t u e l l e s d a n s l e m o n d e c o n t e m p o r a i n , pp.
115-133. Rabat: Academic du Royaume de Maroe, 1981.
T h e T h e o r y o f B e a u t y i n t h e C l a s s i c a l A e s t h e t i c s o f J a p a n . Coauthored with
Toyo Izutsu. Philosophy and World Community. Flic Hague: Martinus
Nijhoff Publishers, 1981.
Al i s u z u 1981 reading questionaire. Al i s u z u 23,1 (1982), no. 257. Rept. Y o m u to
k a k u , p. 442.

“Koran o yomu” (Reading the Koran), ten lectures at the first Iwanami Citizen
Seminar, Tokyo, Januarv-March 19S2. Published 1983.
“Tsuioku: Nishiw'aki Junzaburo ni manabu” (Reminiscences: Studying with
Junzaburo Nishiwaki). E i g o S e m e n ('The Rising Generation) 128,7 (O^2),
415-416. Rept. Y o m u to k a k u , pp. 509-511.
“Celestial Journev: Mythopoesis and Metaphysics.” Paper delivered at the 51st
Eranos Conference, 1982. In Rudolf Ritsema, ed., D a s S p i e l d e r C o t t e r u n d
d e s M e n s c h e u / T h e P l a y o f C o d s a n d Al e n / L e f e u d e s h o m i n e s e t d e s d i e u x .
 K r a n o s J a h r b u c h 51 ( 1 9 8 2 ) , p p . 4 4 9 - 4 7 7 . F r a n k f u r t a m M a i n : I n s e l \ e r l a g ,
1 9 8 4 . K e p t . T h e S t r u c t u r e o f O r i e n t a l P h i l o s o p h y 2: 1 8 7 - 2 1 4 .

‘“ T h e M a n W i t h i n ’ in Z e n B u d d h i s m . ” T r a n s l . ns “ L ’ h o m m c i n t e r i o r d a n s
le b o u d d h i s m e z e n . ” L e s e t u d e s p h i l o s o p h i q u e s ( O c t . - D e e . 1 9 8 3 ) , 4 2 5 - 4 3 “ .

S u fism a n d T a o is m : A C o m p a r a t iv e S t u d y of K e v P h ilo s o p h ic a l C o n c e p t s .
T o k v o : I w a n a m i S h o t e n , 1 9 8 3 ; B e r k e l c v : I J n i v e r s i t v o f C>a 1i f o r 11 ia P r e s s ,
1 9 8 4 ; rept. 2 0 0 8 . S e e a lso A C o m p a r a t i v e S t u d y of th e K e v P h i l o s o p h i c a l
C o n c e p t s o f S i i p s m a n d 1 'ao ism ( 1 9 6 6 - 1 9 6 7 ) .

“ D e r i d a g e n s l i o ” ( A O e r r i d i a n p h e n o m e n o n ) . S h i n k a n n o m e ( A l o o k at r e c e n t
p u b l i c a t i o n s ) 9 5 ( 1 9 8 3 ) , 6. R e p t . Y o m n to k a k u , p p . 4 9 3 - 4 9 5 .

I s h i k i to h o n s h i t s u : s e i s h i n t e k i 7o v d o m o to m ete (C o n scio u sn ess and essence:

In s e a r c h o f th e s p ir it u a l O r ie n t ) . T o k v o : I w a n a m i S h o t e n , 1 9 8 3 ; rept.
2 0 0 1 . A rev is e d a n d e x p a n d e d v e r s i o n o f t h e l o n g e s s a v s e r i a l i z e d in S h i s o
( T h o u g h t ) , J u n e 1 9 8 0 to K e b r u a r v 1 9 8 2 . K e p t , as I s h i k i to h o n s h i t s u : T d v o t e k i
s l i i i n o k o z d t e k i s e i g o s e i n m o t o m e t e ( C o n s c i o u s n e s s a n d e s s e n c e : In s e a r c h
o f t h e s t r u c t u r a l i n t e g r a t i o n of O r i e n t a l t h o u g h t ) , I T ’C 6. B e w u s s t s e i n u n d
W e s e n . T ra n s. M a n s Peter P ie d e r b a c h . M u n i c h : I n d ic iu m , 2 0 0 6 .

“ ‘ G c n ’ci n o h i t o ’: I k c d a Y a s a b u r d o o n i o n ” ( R e m e m b e r i n g Y a s a b u r o I k c d a ,
“ t h e p h a n t o m m a n ” ). C h i l d K o r o n ( C e n t r a l R e v i e w ) 9 8 , 2 ( 1 9 8 3 ) , 3 4 4 - 3 4 8 .
R e p t . Y o m u to k a k u , p p . 5 1 4 - 5 2 1 .

“A n g v a h y d h a k u n o s h i : M u s a ” ( M u s a : T h e w a n d e r i n g p i l g r i m t e a c h e r ) . In
“ W a s u r e e n u liito” (U n fo rg e tta b le p e o p le ), 'io m iu r i S h i m h u n , 7 M a r c h 1983
e v e n i n g e d i t i o n . R e p t . Y o m u to k a k u , p p . 5 1 2 - 5 1 3 .

“ ‘ Y o m u ’ to ‘ k a k u ’ ” ( “ R e a d i n g ” a n d “ w r i t i n g ” ). R i s e ( I d e a l ) 6 0 0 ( 1 9 8 3 ) , 2 - 8 .
R e p t . Y o m u to k a k u , p p . 4 1 7 - 4 2 5 .

K o r a n 0 v o m u ( R e a d i n g t h e K o r a n ) . T o k v o : I w a n a m i S h o t e n , 1 9 8 3 ; re p t. 2 0 1 3 .
R e p t . I T C 8. ’

1983-1985, period covered in Izutsu Toshihiko Zenslni 8: h n i no fu k a m i e

(To the depths of meaning)
“ Y u n g u s h i n r i g a k u to T o y d s h i s o ” ( J u n g i a n p s v c h o l o g v a n d O r i e n t a l t h o u g h t ) .
C o l l o q u y w ith Ja m e s H illm a n a n d H a v a o K a w a i. T ra n s. T o v o k o Izu tsu .
S h is o ( T h o u g h t ) 7 0 8 (1983), 1 - 3 5 . R ep t. I T C B e k k a n , pp. 2 4 5 - 3 0 3 .

“ N i s h i w a k i s e n s e i to g e n g o g a k u to w a t a s h i ” ( P r o f e s s o r N i s h i w a k i , l i n g u i s t i c s
a n d I). I n i n s e r t to N i s h i w a k i f u n z a b u r o Z e n s l n i b e k k a n ( S u p p l e m e n t to t h e
c o m p le te w orks o f ju n z a b u r d N ish iw a k i), pp. 2 - 4 . T o k y o : C h i k u m a S lio b o ,
1 9 8 3 . R e p t . Y o m u to k a k u , p p . 5 2 2 - 5 2 4 .

“ D e r i d a n o n a k a n o ‘ Y u d a y a j i n ’ ” ( T h e “ j e w ” in D e r r i d a ) . S h i s o ( T h o u g h t ) 7 1 1
( 1 9 8 3 ) , 2 1 - 3 7 . l^c p h h n i n o f u k a m i e, p p . 8 7 - 1 2 0 . I T C 9 : 3 6 1 - 3 8 7 .
“ G o g a k u k a i g c n ” (iM\ i n i t i a t i o n i n t o t h e m y s t e r i e s o f l a n g u a g e s ) . I n Y o s l i i o
K a m i v a m a , eel., Michi: Showa no hitori icfiiwashu (Pathw ays: O n e person
o n e story, a S h o w a - p c r i o d a n t h o l o g y ) , pp. 1 2 0 - 1 2 5 . N a g o y a : C l i i i t o K y o ik u
T o slio , 1 9 8 5 - . Kept. Yount to kakit, pp. 6 0 1 - 6 0 4 .

“ S liT a h a I s u r a m u ” ( S h i ’ itc I s l a m ) . P a p e r d e l i v e r e d at T h e I n d u s t r y C l n h o f
J a p a n , D e c e m b e r 19 8 3 . P u b l i s h e d as “ S l n a h a I s n r a m n : S l n a t e k i j u n k y o s h a
i s l i i k i n o v n r a i to s o n o e n g e k i s e i ” ( S h i ite I s l a m : P he origin o f the S h i i t e
m a r t y r c o m p l e x a n d its t h e a t r i c a l i t y ) . S e k a i ( W o r l d ) 4 6 0 ( 1 9 8 4 ) , 2 2 - 4 2 .
K ep t, lin i n o f u k a i n i e, p p . 1 5 5 - 1 9 6 . 1T C 9: 4 1 7 - 4 4 7 .

“ Bnnka to g e n g o a r a y a s h i k i : ih n n k ak an taiw a no k an o se i no m ondai o

m e g u t t e ” ( C u l t u r e a n d l i n g u i s t i c c7/ c / v c / - e o n s e i o u s n e s s : O n t h e q u e s t i o n
o t t h e p o s s i b i l i t y o f c r o s s - c u l t u r a l d i a l o g u e ) . I11 G e n d a i b u n m e i n o k i k i to
j i d a i n o s e i s b i n ( T h e c risis o f c o n t e m p o r a r y c i v i l i z a t i o n a n d th e spirit o f th e
t i m e s ) , p p . 8 9 - 1 2 4 . T o k y o : I w a n a m i S h o t e n , 1 9 8 4 . K e p t . I n t i n o f u k a i n i <?,
pp. 46-S3. ITC 9: 44-73,
“ T h e S e m a n t i c S t r u c t u r a l i z a t i o n ot C u l t u r e fr o m a n A s i a n P h ilo so p h ical
S t a n d p o i n t . ” P a p e r d e l i v e r e d at t h e U N E S C O International S y m p o s iu m ,
B a n g k o k , 1983. P u b lis h e d 19 8 6 .

“ M a t t e r a n d C o n s c i o u s n e s s in O r i e n t a l P h i l o s o p h i e s . ” In S c i e n c e e t c o n s c i e n c e ,
les d e o x le c t u re s d e F U n i v e r s : C o l l o q u e d e C o r d o u e (i c r an 5 O c to b re 1979).
,
Paris: S t o c k , 19 8 0 . S c i e n c e a n d C o n s c i o u s n e s s T w o V i e w s o f th e U n iv e r s e . E d .
M ie lie l C a z e n a v e , pp. 2 9 3 - 3 0 5 . O x fo r d ; N e w York: P e r g a m o n Press, 1984.
T r a n s . T a d a h i r o O n u m a a s “ T o y o t e t s u g a k u n i o k e r u b u s s h i t s u to i s l i i k i . ” In
Isliiki n o h e n r e k i ( T h e j o u r n e y ot c o n s c io u s n e s s ) , pp. 1 3 9 - 1 7 3 . T o k y o : T a m a
S h u p p a n , 1987.

“ P h e D e - r e i f i c a t i o n a n d R e - r e i f i c a t i o n o f res in Z e n B u d d h i s m . ” T r a n s l . as
“ D i e E n t d i n g l i e h u n g u n d W i c d c r v c r d i n g l i e h u n g d e r ‘ D i n g e ’ im Z e n -
B u d d h i s m u s . ” I n T o s h ill i k o I z u t s u , Y o s h i h i r o N i t t a , e t a h , e d s . , j a p a n i s c h e
B e itriig e z u r P lia n o n ie n o lo g ie , pp. 13 -4 0 . E reibu rg: K arl A lb er, 1984.

“ T a n s u , fu k u sii isliik i” (C o n s c io u s n e s s o f s in g u la r an d p lu ral). B u n g a k u

( L i t e r a t u r e ) 5 2 , 4 ( 1 9 8 4 ) , 5 0 - 5 1 . K e p t . Y o m u to keiku , p p . 4 2 6 - 4 3 0 .
“ ‘ K a k u ’: D e r id a no ck u rich u ru -ro n ni c h i n a n d c ” ( “ W r i t i n g ” : A p r o p o s o f
D e r r i d a ’s t h e o r y o f e c r i t u r e ) . S b i s o ( T h o u g h t ) 7 1 8 ( 1 9 8 4 ) , 2 - 1 8 . R e p t . l m i n o
f u k a i n i e, p p . 1 2 1 - 1 5 4 . I T C 9 : 3 8 8 - 4 1 4 .

B l u r b for M a r k C . T a y lo r, E r r i n g : A P o s t m o d e r n A / t h e o lo g y . C h i c a g o : C h i e a g o
U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1 9 8 4 ; r e p t . 2 0 1 0 . T r a n s l . in S a n i a v o u : p o s u t o n i o d a n n o h i
s h in g a k u by T o y o k o Izutsu. 1991.

L e c t u r e s 01 1 t h e r e c e p t i o n o f a n c i e n t I n d i a n p h i l o s o p h y in I s l a m i c p h i l o s o p h y
at t h e I n s t i t u t e o f I s m a i l i S t u d i e s , L o n d o n , o v e r t h e c o u r s e ot t h r e e m o n t h s ,
sp rin g 1984.
“ S u t i z u n u i to g c n g o t e t s u g a k u ” ( S u f i s m an d lin g u istic p h ilo so p h y). S h is o
( T h o u g h t ) 7 2 0 ( 1 9 S 4 ) , 1 - 2 1 . K e p t , h n i n o f u k a m i e, pp. 1 9 7 - 2 7 7 . I I C> 9 : 4 4 8 - 4 7 9 .

“ S u h s m , M y s t ic is m , S t r u c t u r a lis m : A D i a l o g u e . ” C o llo c p iy w ith llcrm a n n

L a n d o l t . R e l i g i o u s D e t e n t i o n s 7 - 9 ( 1 9 8 4 —1 9 8 6 ) , 1 - 2 4 . “ S f i f i z u m u to m i s u t i s h i -
z u m u . ” T ra n s. T o y o k o Izutsu. S h i s o ('T h o u g h t) 7 2 0 (1984), 2 2 - 5 2 . Kept. P T C
B e k h a n , pp. 1 9 7 - 2 4 7 .

“ T h e O n t o l o g i c a l A m b i \ ’a l c n c c o f ‘ T h i n g s ’ in O r i e n t a l P h i l o s o p h y . ” P a p e r
d e l i \ ' c r c c l at a c o n f e r e n c e o n “ T h e K c a l a n d t h e I m a g i n a r y , ” W a s h i n g t o n ,
D C , S e p t e m b e r 19S4. P u b lish e d 1987.

“ K o n t o n : m u to yfi n o a i d a ” ( C h a o s : B e t w e e n b e i n g a n d n o t h i n g n e s s ) . K o k u g o
T s u s h i n ( J a p a n e s e L a n g u a g e N e w s ) 2 6 9 ( 1 9 8 4 ) , 1 - 5 . K e p t , h n i n o f u k a m i e,
pp. 2 7 9 - 2 8 9 . P T C 9: 1 0 6 - 1 1 4 .

“ C e n g o t e t s u g a k u t o s h i t e n o S h i n g o n ” ( S h i u g o n : A p h i l o s o p h y ot l a n g u a g e ) .
P a p e r d e l i y e r e d at 1 7 t h C o n f e r e n c e o n K s o l c r i c B u d d h i s m . M o u n t K o y a ,
D e c e m b e r 1 9 8 4 . P u b l i s h e d in A l i k k r d g a k i t k e n k n l ( J o u r n a l o f K s o l c r i c
B u d d h i s t S t u d i e s ) 1 7 ( 1 9 8 5 ) , 1 - 2 9 . K e p t . Y o u n t to k a k u , p p . 2 5 1 - 2 8 6 .

“ B u n g a k u to s h i s o n o s h i n s o ” ( T h e d e p t h s o f l i t e r a t u r e a n d t h o u g h t ) . C o l l o q u y
w ith S h f is a k u K u d o . S e k a i 4 7 0 (19 8 5 ), 2 7 0 - 2 5 8 . K ep t. P T C B e k h a n , pp. 7 - 5 7 .

“ I m i b u n s e t s u r i r o n to K f i k a i : S h i n g o n m i k k y d n o g e n g o t e t s u g a k u t e k i k a n o -
sei o s a g u r u ” ( K u k a i a n d th e t h e o r y o f s e m a n t i c a r t i c u l a t i o n : K x p l o r i n g
the lin g u istic p h ilo s o p h ic a l potential o f S h in g o n esoteric B u d d h is m ). S h is o
7 2 8 ( 1 9 8 5 ) , 1 - 2 1 . R e p t . h n i n o f u k a m i e, p p . 2 7 8 - 2 7 8 . P T C 9 : 7 6 - 1 0 5 .

I m i n o f u k a m i e: T o r o t e t s u g a k u n o s u i i ( T o t h e d e p t h s o f r e a d i n g : F a t h o m i n g
O rie n ta l p h ilo so p h y ). T o k y o : Iw a n a m i S h o te n , 1985. Kept. P T C 9: 1 1 - 4 1 4 .
A f t e r w o r d to b e r e p t. in I z u t s u T o s h i h i k o X e n s h u 8.

“ N i n g e n s o n z a i n o g e n d a i t e k i j o k y o to T o y d t e t s u g a k u ” ( ( O r i e n t a l p h i l o s o p h y
a n d th e c o n t e m p o r a r y s it u a t io n o f h u m a n e x is t e n c e ) . K ey. a n d c n l. trails,
b y a u t h o r o f 1 9 7 9 K e i o I n t e r n a t i o n a l S y m p o s i u m p a p e r . In h n i n o f u k a m i e,
pp. 7 - 4 5 . P T C 9: 1 1 - 4 7 .

1985-1989, period coxered in Izutsu Toshihiko Zenshu 9: K o s u m o s i i to

a n c h i k o s i i m o s u (Cosmos and anti-cosmos)

“ Ji-ji m u g c / ri-ri m u g e : s o n z a i k a i t a i n o ato" ( T h e w orld o f “ n o n - h in d r a n c e ” :

A fter/traees o f o n to lo g ical d e c o n stru ctio n ). Shiso ('T h o u g h t) 777 (19 8 5),
1 - 7 1 a n d 7 7 5 ( 1 9 8 5 ) , 1 7 - 7 7 . T r a n s l a t i o n o f p a p e r g i y e n at t h e W o r l d o f I s l a m
Kestiyal, L o n d o n , 19 7 6 . K ep t. Kosumosii to anehi kosumosii, pp. 1 - 1 0 2 . P T C

9 : n7_195-
“ M i t a j i d a i : S a r u t o r u t e t s u g a k u to n o d c a i ” ( T h e M i l a y e a r s : M y e n e o u n t e r
w i t h S a r t r e ’s p h i l o s o p h y ) . M i t a B u n g a k u 6 4 , 7 ( 1 9 8 5 ) , 1 2 - 1 7 . K e p t . 1°
k a k u , pp. 4 9 6 - 4 9 9 .
E ic h i n o d a iz a : Izutsu T o sh ih ik o ta id a n s h u (B e ze ls o f w isd o m : A co llectio n o f
c o llo q u ie s w ith T o s h ih ik o Izu tsu ). T o k y o : Iw a n a m i S h o te n , 19 8 6 . F o re w o rd
to b e r e p t . in I z u t s u ' T o s h i h i k o Z e n s h u 9.

“ S o z o tu d a n : 'lo v o t e k i jikan ishiki n o g e n t e i ” ( P e r p e t u a l c r e a tio n : A b asic p at­

tern o f O r i e n t a l t im e c o n s c io u s n e s s ) . S h i s o ('T h o u g h t) 74 1 (19 8 6 ), 1 - 2 2 a n d
7 4 2 ( 1 9 8 6 ) , 4 9 - 7 0 . R e p t . K o s u m o s u to a n c h i k o s u i n o s u , p p . 1 0 3 - 1 8 7 . T T C
9 : 1 9 6 - 2 6 2 . ' T r a n s l a t i o n o f “ ' T h e C o n c e p t o f P e r p e t u a l C r e a t i o n in I s l a m i c
M v stic ism an d Z e n B u d d h is m ” (1977).

“ The S e m a n tic S tru c tu ra liz a tio n o f C u lt u r e fro m an A sia n P h ilo so p h ic a l

S t a n d p o i n t . ” In T e a c h i n g a n d R e s e a r c h in P h i l o s o p h y : A s i a a n d t h e P a c ific .
S t u d i e s o n ' T e a c h i n g a n d R e s e a r c h in P h i l o s o p h y t h r o u g h o u t t h e W o r l d 2:
3 8 7 - 4 0 6 . Paris: U N E S C O , 19 8 6 .

“ I b n A r a b r . ” (n M i r c e a E l i a d e , e d . , T h e E n c y c l o p e d i a o f R e l i g i o n 6. N e w Y o r k :
M a e m i l l a n , 1 9 8 6 ; rept. S i m o n R: S c h u s t e r M a c m i l l a n , 1 9 9 6 .

“ I s h r a q i y a h . ” In M i r c e a E l i a d e , e d . . H i e E n c y c l o p e d i a o f R e l i g i o n 7.

“ ( s i n n a i r u h a ‘a n s a t s u d a i T : A r a m u t o j o s a i n o n m i t o s u to s h i s o ” ( T h e I s n i a i l i
A s s a s s i n s : M y t l i o s a n d t h o u g h t a r o u n d t h e A l a m u t e a s t l e ) . E e e t u r e g i v e n at
t h e J a p a n A e a d e m v , M a v 1 9 8 5 . P u b l i s h e d in S h i s o ( ' T h o u g h t ) 7 4 5 ( 1 9 8 6 ) , 1 - 2 4 ,
a n d 7 4 6 ( 1 9 8 6 ) , 1 3 7 - 1 5 9 . R e p t . K o s u m o s u to a n c h i k o s u i n o s u , p p . 2 4 7 - 3 3 6 .
I T C 9: 4 8 0 - 5 4 8 .

“ E r i a d e aito: ‘ I n d o t a i k e n ’ o m e g u t t e ” ( M o u r n i n g E l i a d e : O n his “ I n d i a n e x p e r i ­
e n c e s ” ). Y u r i i k a ( E u r e k a ) 1 8 ( 1 9 8 6 ) , 6 8 - 7 6 . R e p t . Y o m u to k a k u , p p . 5 2 5 - 5 4 0 .

“ C o s m o s an d A n t i- C o s m o s : F ro m the S ta n d p o in t o f O rie n ta l P h ilo so p h y .”

P a p e r d e l iv e r e d at th e T e n r i In tern atio n al S y m p o s iu m , T e n ri, O sa k a ,
T o k y o , D e c e m b e r 1 9 8 6 . P u b l i s h e d 1 9 8 8 . ' T r a n s i . a s “ K o s u m o s u to a n e h i
k o su m o su : 'lo v o te k i tach ib a k ara.” S h is o ( T h o u g h t) 753 (1987), 5 -33 . Rept.
K o s u m o s u to a n c h i k o s u i n o s u , p p . 1 8 9 - 2 4 6 . E T C 9 : 2 6 3 - 3 0 7 .

“ T h e O n t o l o g i c a l A m b i v a l e n c e o f ‘ ' T h i n g s ’ in O r i e n t a l P h i l o s o p h y . ” I n J e a n
E . C h a r o n , e d . , I m a g i n a i r e c t r e a l i t e : C o l l o q u e d e W a s h i n g t o n . E s p r i t e t la
s c i e n c e 2. P a r i s : A . M i c h e l , 1 9 8 5 . E n g l i s h t r a i l s . P h e R e a l a n d t h e I m a g i n a r y :
A N e w A p p r o a c h to P h y s i c s , p p . 1 8 7 - 1 9 7 . N e w Y o r k : P a r a g o n H o u s e , 1 9 8 7 .

B l u r b tor N i s h i t a n i K e i f C h o s a k u s h u ( S e l e c t e d w o rk s o f K e iji N i s h i t a n i ) . 26
v o l s . T o k y o : S o b u n s h a , 1 9 8 6 - 1 9 9 5 . R e p t . Y o m u to k a k u , p p . 4 4 4 - 4 4 5 .

‘“ H i r a k a r e t a s e i s h i n ’ 1 1 0 s h i s o k a ” (T h e t h i n k e r w i t h a n “ o p e n m i n d ” ). B l u r b
for P u r o t i n o s u Z e n s h u ( C o m p l e t e w o r k s o f P l o t i n u s ) . 5 vols. T o k y o : C h i l d
K o r o n s h a , 1 9 8 6 - 1 9 8 8 . R e p t . Y o m u to k a k u , p p . 4 4 6 - 4 4 7 .

“ K i z u k u : s h i to t e t s u g a k u n o k i t e n ” ( B e c o m i n g a w a r e : T h e o r i g i n s o f p o e t r y a n d
p h i l o s o p h y ) . S h i s o ( ' T h o u g h t ) 7 5 1 ( 1 9 8 7 ) , 1 - 4 . R e p t . Y o m u to k a k u , p p . 4 3 1 - 4 3 5 .

“ K o s u m o s u to a n e h i k o s u m o s u : T d y o t e k i t a e h i b a k a r a . ” S h i s o ( ' T h o u g h t )
7 5 3 ( 1 9 8 7 ) , 5 - 3 3 . R e p t . K o s u m o s u to a n c h i k o s u m o s u , p p . 1 8 9 - 2 4 6 . I T C 9 :
 2 6 3 - 3 0 7 . d ra n s la tio n o f “ C o s m o s a n d a n ti-c o sm o s: F ro m the stan d p o in t o f
O rien tal p h ilo so p h y ” (1986/1988).

“ F fik ci” (Lan d scap e). C e k k a n Kanazawa ( k a n a g a w a M o n t h ly ) 332 (A p ril

1987), 3 6 - 3 7 .

“ d o v o t e t s n g a k u n i o k e r n b n s s h i t s u to i s h i k i . ” In Ishiki no henreki ( I ’ 11 e j o u r ­
n e y o f e o n s e i o n s n e s s ) . d ’r a n s . d a d a h i r o O m i m a , p p . 1 3 9 - 1 7 3 . d o k v o : lam a
S l m p p a n , 1 9 8 7 . d r a n s l a t i o n o f “ M a t t e r a n d C o n s c i o u s n e s s in O r i e n t a l
P h iloso p h ies.” (1979/1984).

“ W atash i no san satsu " (M v three hooks). Toslin (B ooks) 4 34 (1988), 11- 12 .
Kept. Yoinu to kaku, p. 4 4 8 .

“ C h f i s e i Y u d a v a t e t s u g a k u s h i n i o k e r n k eij i to r i s c i ” ( R e a s o n a n d r e v e l a t i o n in
t h e h i s t o r v o f m e d i e v a l J u d a i c p h i l o s o p h y ) . In h v a n a m i K o z a : l o r d s h i s d 2:
Y u d a v a s h i s d 2 ( I w a n a m i l e c t u r e s e r i e s : O r i e n t a l t h o u g h t 2: J u d a i c t h o u g h t
2), p p . 3 - 1 1 4 . Ib k y o : I w a n a m i S h o tc n , 19 88. K ept. C h d e t s u 1 10 k o t o h a :
I s u r a i n u Y u d a v a t e t s u g a k u n i o k e r n k a m i to I n t o ( d V a n s e e n d e n t a l W O R D s :
C o d a n d m e n in I s l a m i c a n d J e w i s h p h i l o s o p h y ) , p p . 2 7 9 - 4 0 3 .

“ S h i m o m u r a s e n s e i n o ‘s l n i e h o ’ ” ( P r o f e s s o r S h i m o m u r a ’s “ m a i n w o r k ” ). B l u r b
for S h i m o m u r a l o r a t a r d C h o s a k u s l n l . 13 v o ls . d 'o k \ ‘o : M i s u / , 1 1 S l i o b o , 1 9 8 8 ­
1 9 9 9 . R e p t . Y o i n u to k a k u , p. 4 4 9 - 4 3 1 .

“ Z e n t e k i i s h i k i n o f l r u d o k d z o ” (d l i e h e l d s t r u c t u r e o f Z e n e o n s e i o n s n e s s ) .
Shiso (T h o u g h t) 7 7 0 (1988). 4 - 3 7 . Rept. Kosumosu to anchi kosmnosu, pp.
3 3 7 - 4 0 1 . L P C 9 : 3 0 8 - 3 3 7 . d ’r a n s l a t i o n o f “ d d i e S t r u c t u r e o f S e l f h o o d in
Z e n B u d d h is m ” (1969/1972).

A lahometto ( M u h a m m a d ) . R c p u b l i c a t i o n o f 1 9 3 2 e d i t i o n , d o k v o : K d d a n s h a
G a k u j u t s u B u n k o , 1 9 8 9 . l m r e w o r d to b e r e p t . in l z u t s u P o s b i h i k o Z e n s h u 9.

Kosumosu to anchi kosumosu: lord tetsugaku no tame ni ( C o s m o s and anti-cos­

m o s: For a p h ilo s o p h y o f the O rien t), d o k v o : Iw a n a m i S h o te n , 19 8 9 . R ept.
I T C 9: 4 1 3 - 6 0 3 . A fte rw o rd to b e r e p t . in l z u t s u d o s h i h i k o Z e n s h u 9.

1988-1993, period covered in lzutsu Toshihiko Zenshu 10: I s h i k i n o k eijijd g a k u

(Metaphysics of consciousness)
“ H c n s a n n o t a e h ib a k a r a ” ( F r o m a n e d it o r ia l s t a n d p o in t ) . B l u r b for I w a n a m i
Koza: Tdvo shisd ( I w a n a m i l e c t u r e s e r i e s : O r i e n t a l t h o u g h t ) . 1 6 v o ls . d o k v o :
Iw a n a m i S h o te n , 1 9 8 8 - 1 9 8 9 . Rept. Yomu to kaku, pp. 4 3 2 - 4 3 3 .

“ G c n g o g e n s h d to sh ite n o ‘ k e i j i ’” (“ R e v e l a t i o n ” as a l i n g u i s t i c p h e n o m e n o n ) .
I n I w a n a m i K o z a : ' l o v o s h i s d 2: I s u r a i n u s h i s d 2 ( I w a n a m i l e c t u r e s e r i e s :
O r i e n t a l t h o u g h t 2: J u d a i c t h o u g h t 2), p p . 3 - 4 7 . d o k v o : I w a n a m i S h o t e n ,
1 9 8 8 . R e p t . C h d e t s u 110 k o t o h a : I s u r a i n u Y u d a v a t e t s u g a k u n i o k e r n k a m i to
In t o , pp. 1-31.
“A v i s e n n a , C a z a r T , A v e r o e s u ‘ h o r a k u ’ r o n s o : ‘ t e t s u g a k u n o h o r a k u ’ to ‘ h o r a k u
no h o ra k u ’ o n ie g u ttc ” (D isputes a m o n g A v ic e n n a , C h az a lT and A verroes:
C o n c e r n i n g “ d e s t r u c t i o p h i l o s o p h o r i n n ” a n d “ d e s t r u c t i o d e s t r u c t i o n i s ” ).
In I w a n a m i K o z a : l o r o s h i s o 4: I s u r d m u s h i s o 2 ( I w a n a m i l e c t u r e s e r ie s :
O r i e n t a l t h o u g h t 4 : I s l a m i c t h o u g h t 2), p p . 1 6 2 - 2 0 4 T o k y o : Iw a n a m i S h o t e n ,
1 9 8 8 . R e p t . C h o e t s u n o k o t o b a : I s u r d m u Y i i d a v a t e t s u g a k u n i o k e r u k a m i to
Into, pp. 5 3 -10 2 .

“ C o s m o s a n d A n t i - C o s m o s : F r o m t h e S t a n d p o i n t o f O r i e n t a l P h i l o s o p h y . ” In
C o s m o s , L ife, R e lig io n : B e y o n d H u m a n is m [ P r o c e e d i n g s o f th e T e n r i inter­
n atio n al sv m p o siu m ’ 8 6 , h e l d in T e n r i , O s a k a , T o k y o , 1 2 - 1 8 D e c e m b e r
19 8 6 ], pp. 9 9 - 1 2 3 . T e n r i: T e n r i U n iv e r s ity Press, 19 8 8 . T r a n s l. as “ K o s u m o s ii
to a n c h i k o s u m o s i i : T o y o t c k i t a e h i b a k a r a ” ( 1 9 8 7 ) .

“ S h i s o to g e i j u t s u ” ( A r t a n d t h o u g h t ) . C o l l o q u y w i t h S h o t a r o Y a s u o k a . A l i t a
B u n g a k u 6 7,15 (19 8 8 ), 2 2 -4 7 . R ept. I T C B e k k a n , pp. 3 2 7 - 3 6 8 .

“ T o y o s h i s o ” ( O r i e n t a l t h o u g h t) . In G e n K i d a , et a h , e d s . , K o n s a i s u l o s e i k i
shiso jiten ( C o n e is e dietionar\' o f 2 o th -e e n tu r\’ though t), pp. 6 0 - 7 0 . T o k y o :
S a n s e i d o , 1 9 8 9 ; 2 n d e d . 1 9 9 7 . R e p t . Y o m u to k a k u , p p . 2 8 7 - 3 0 5 .

“T A T T V A M A S 1( n a n j i w a s o r e n a r i) : B o y a j l d o B a s u t a m f ni o k e r u p e r u s o n a
tenkan no sh iso ” ( T A T T \ A M A S I [ T h o u art that]: T h e idea o f c h a n g e o f
p e r s o n a in B a y a z l d B a s t a m f ) . S h i s o ( T h o u g h t ) 7 8 0 ( 1 9 8 9 ) , 4 - 4 1 . R e p t . I T C
9:549-603.
R o sh ia tek i n in g en (R u ssian h u m an ity, 1953). Rept. T o kyo : C h ild K oron sh a,
1 9 8 9 . A f t e r w o r d to b e r e p t . in I z u t s u T o s h i h i k o Z e n s h u 10 .

“ T e k u s u t o Y o m i ’ n o j i d a i ” ( T h e a g e o f text r e a d i n g ) . In b lu r b for S h i n K i h o n
K oten B u n g a k u T a ik e i ( N e w a n th o lo g y o f c la ssic a l Ja p a n e s e literatu re).
T o k y o : I w a n a m i S h o t e n , 1 9 8 9 - 2 0 0 4 . R e p t . Y o n m to K a k u , p. 5 0 0 .

“ M a v a t e k i sekai n in s h ik i: fu n i ic h ig e n r o n t c k i V e d a n t a n o shii k o z o o m e g u t t e ”
( C o g n it io n o f a M a v a -W V c w o rld : O n the th o u g h t stru c tu re o f A d vaita
V ed an ta). S h iso (T h o u g h t) 787 (1990), 4 -4 0 . Rept. C h o e t s u no kotoba:
I s u r a m u , Y u d a y a t e t s u g a k u n i o k e r u k a m i to I n t o , p p . 4 0 7 - 4 7 0 .

“ E r a n o s u so sh o n o h a k k a n ni saish ite: k a n s h o s h a n o k o to b a ” ( O n th e p u b li­

c a tio n o f the F r a n o s y e a rb o o k s : W o rd s fro m th e editor). In T o k i no g e n -
s h o g a k u (In t i m e a n d o u t o f tim e ). 2 vols. F r a n o s u s o s h o ( F r a n o s y e a r b o o k ) ,
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O r i e n t a l P h i l o s o p h y 1: 2 8 3 - 2 8 9 .

I s u r d m u s e i t a n ( T h e b i r t h ot I s l a m ; 1 9 7 9 ) . R e p t . T o k y o : C h u o K o r o n s h a , 1 9 9 0 .
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“ l m i r o n j o s e t s u : M i n w a n o s h i s o n o k a i s e t s u o k a n e t c ” ( I n t r o d u c t i o n to s e m a n ­
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1 9 9 2 , I z u t s u T o s h i h i k o Z e n s h u 1 1 : In ii n o h d zo ( T h e s t r u c t u r e o f m e a n i n g )

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!I
*

I.
it

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I
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I lin o , K e iz o . “ D a n g a i ni y n r a m e k u sh ir o i t a n a g o k o r o n o m u r e ” (A c lu s te r
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I z u i , H i s a n o s u k c . F u n h o r u t o ( H u m b o l d t ) . T o k y o : K o b u n d o S h o h o , 1 9 3 8 ; r e p t.

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K a m i v a , M i k i o . “A n r i K o r n b a n n o S d z d te k i sd zdryo ku n i t s u i t c ” ( O n H e n r y
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K a w a n a m i , A k i r a . H i k a r i no g e n s h d g a k u ( T h e p h e n o m e n o l o g v o f l i g h t ) .
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K a w a s h i m a , D a i j i r d . f o n a s a u G d b u r u k en k yfi ( S t u d y o f J o n a t h a n C o b l e ) .
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 Index
1. IN D KX o r’ NAM ICS

A Avatainsaka-sfitra ( Garl and Sutra)

Abraham 49, 126; religions of S8 . 192 210, 289, 291, 512, 5941111 64, 66
Academy, Plato’s 8, i~, 52, 500. See also Aycrroes (Ibu Ruslicl) 2, 102, 158, 207­
Imperial Iranian Academy of Philos­ 210, 212, 214, 261, 5601158; Ayerroism,
ophy Latin 209
Allah 59, 102, 118-119, 1 9 4 —19b, 198, 257, Ayicenna (Ibn Sma) 65, 102
511; Allah nature 119-120 Awakening of Vaitb in the Mabavdna
Amida Nyorai (Pdtl'fP'tAnib, the Talhagata (Mabavdna Sraddbotpada Sdstra, K 'L
Amitfibha) 19, 120, 515 ^Griiiii) 10, 162, 227, 291, 518, 548. See
Ana l Ijaqq 64-65, 67, 105. See also also Ishiki no keijijdgakn
Ilallaj, Mansur al-
Analccts 8, 21, 216, 222, 550. See also B
Confucius Badalna 66
\o\ama Gaknin U11 i\crsit\ (fdlr’rKALL) Barth, Karl 129, 227
44, 268, 550 Barthes, Boland 160, 508
Arabia sliisoshi (I listory of Arabic Baslio Matsuo Basho) 40, 89,
thought) ix-x, 2, 54-56, 59, 61, 107, 152, 167, 182, 268
121, 145, 209, 265, 508, 552, 554 BastamI, Baya/.ld 64
Arabia tetsugaku (Arabic philosophy) 28, Baudelaire, Charles 90-91, 121, 156,
,0 7’ 121> 829 181-182, 255
Aristotle 28, 41, 57, 62, 154-155, 207-208, Being and Nothingness. See V.tre et le
254, 265; as mystic philosopher 7-8, neant, />’
10, 17-19, 26, 50, 57, 125, 159, 518. Sec Being and Time. Sec Sein and Z,eit
also Shinpi tetsugaku Belinsky, Vissarion 78, 98-100
Ascona 225, 252, 259 Benz, Krnst 141, 256-257, 259-240
Asm Palacios, Miguel 152-155, 210, Berdyaey, Nikolai 75-76, 79-80, 95, 96,
245-244, 501 140, 176
\s\aghosa 10, 102 Bergson, I lenri 80, 115, 159, 176, 295
‘Attar, band al-Dm 64 Bernard of Clairyaux xiii, 45, 107, 128—
Augustine of I Iippo xiii, 24, 55, 56, 59, 155, 155-136, 159-140, 155
75, 89, 102-105, 152, 261, 500
Bible 42-45, 45-46, 48, 100, 161-161, 268. Chingchiao (M'4X JTilg jiao; the lumi­
See also Gospel; New Testament’;"Old nous religion) 500. See also Nestori-
Testament anisni
Bigiev, Musa. See Jarullah, Musa Choetsu no kotoha (Transcendental
Bivdn l a). See Pi Yen Lu W'ORDs) x, 54, 500, 547,
Bodliidliarma (.TJJTSifAO 291 Christianity 5, 51-52, 56, 42, 45, 56, 68,
Bodliisattvas (gp$) 120, 274-275, 296; 77, ” 9, 82, 102-105, 115, 120; Arab
Bodliisattva Path 77 Christianitx 56-5-, 65-66, 69, 227,
Bohnie, Jakob 58, 227, 259 255, 257, 244-245; earlv Christianity
Book Lambda 265, 285 24-25, 59, 104, 127, 155, 158, 500; Jap­
“ Book of Changes.” See I Ching anese 44, 141, 147-155, 228, 255, 29-,
“ Book of Chuang-tzu.” See “Cliuang- 515, 550; medieval 45, 112-115, 129-151,
tzii, Book of” 209, 254, 258-259, 272, 276; mono­
“ Book of 1listory.” See Shih Chi theism 101, 116, 126, 192-195, 201, 219;
Bremond, Henri 24, 175 mvsticism 52, 127-128, 145, 155, 217,
Buddha 41, 108, 255, 2S5, 285, 515; Bud- 259, 267, 272, 554; Russian Christian-
dha-Reality, arising of (hsing-ch'i) 290 itv 75, 78, 81. See also Catholicism;
Buddhism 56, 56, 58, 77, 127, 187, 227, Izutsu, Toshihiko, relation to Christi-
251, 245, 294, 515. See also I lua Yen; anitv; Nestorianism
Izutsu, Toshihiko, and Buddhism; Chu Ci. See Ch'u Tz'u
Jodo (Pure Land); Jodo Shinshu Chu-tzu (TT, Zliiizl) 6, 160, 225
(rlrue Pure Land); Kegon; Mahavfma; Chuang-tzu (T /-, ZhuangzJ) 56. 178,
Shingon; Tantrie Buddhism; Yogaeara 210, 216-218, 221-222; “Chuang-tzu,
(Well Shih); Zen Book of” 220-221. Sec also Izutsu,
Buonaiuti, Lrnesto 140-141, 257-258, Toshihiko, and Taoism
240 Chung Yung (TTf, Zhong yong\ The doc­
trine of the mean) 56
c Claudel, Paul xiii, 88-90, 105, 107, 121,
Carmelite Order 56, 127, 129, 169, 261, 155-140,148,150,156, 175-176
Catholicism 24, 45, 66, 69, 81, 115-116, Commentator, the. See Avcrroes
127-155 passim, 229, 255, 257, 259, 246, Communism, as new religion 75, 100
575; in Japan 55, 106, 141-142, 144— Concept of Belief in Islamic 'rheology,
145, 147-149. 152-157 296, 515, 555 41 he
in . -,5 y

C li’cng I C li ’uan (f^ffdll, Cheng ^Yell- Concept and Reality o f Existence, The
nan) and Ch eng Ming Tao (fSiDil, 158, 200, 26-, 559
Cheng 1laochuan) 225 Confucianism 6, 58, 128, i8_, 217, 222,
Cih'u I'z'u ( je £L Chu Cf, “ Llcgies of 261, 272; Xeo-Conlueianism 160
C li’u” ) xii, 218, 220, 225, 580 Confucius (41T\ Kongzi) xii, 89, 160,
C li ’ii Yiian (/nUT On Yuan) 178, 205, 165, 1-8, 216, 221-225, 2W
218-221 Coomaraswamy, Ananda 51, 242, 24-
C h ’ang-an Chang’an) 187, 297 Corbin, 1lenrv 15-, 158, 191, 201-202, 205,
Chekhov, Anton 72-72, ~8 210, 212, 252-255, 24_-248; and Kranos
 6(S, 159, 224-225, 229-2^0, 252-255, Eranos Conference 68, 140-141, 150,
259, 295; and \ 1assi£411011 67-69, 206, 229-250, 254, 287, 294, 505-507;
224-227; ;mcl imind us imaginulis 226, “ time of Eranos” 224—225, 228-229,
254, 261, 27<S, 280, 291, 701 259; and Daisctx Suzuki 252-254,
Crusade, Second 150, 152, 159 257, 558. See also Corhin, I leury;
C'nrt 111s, Ernest Robert 14<S—141, 525 Eroche-Kaptcvn, Olga; l/utsu Toshi-
hiko, at Eranos Conference, Eranos
I) lectures
Haute Alighieri 12, 72, 107, 150, 175; and Eire el le neang E (Being and Slolhing-
Islam 65, 140—14^, 209-210, 245, 701 ness) 145, 265, 268, 271
Daodejing. See Ta0 Te Ching
D ’Arcy, Martin Cvril 14S-150, 229, E
->-> r_->-> A
YYU ha Ts’ang Eazang) 255, 594
Derrida, Jacques \i, 49, 66, 10S, 160, 210, Ercud, Sigmund 80, 172, 241, 271, 295
258, 267, 506-508 Eroche-Kaptcvn, Olga xii, 141, 252-255
Dharmakaya ('/£#, hosshin; lit. dliarma ldisils al-ljikam (Bezels ot Wisdom) 204,
body) ■ 417—418 TO
Dionvsus 15-16, no
Divine Comedy 129-150, 152-155, 175, G
209-210, 245, 501. See also Dante Gabriel, angel 119-120
Alighieri; Asm Pal aeios, i\ 1 iguci Gabrieli, Eranccsco 152
doctrine ot the mean. The. See Chung Oatelcss (bite, 'The. See Wu Men Kuan
Yung Gilson, Etienne 267
Dogen (il7n) 6, 210, 291 Cod and A lan in the Koran 157, 164, 55-
Dostoevsky, Evodor xii, 42, 72, 75—85, Goctlie, Johann Wolfgang von 107,
92-95, 96-97, 99-100, 116, 140, 255, 122-125, ^ 5 , 199, 524
305 Gospel 65, 155, 161, 5751122; according to
Duino Elegies 521, 525 John 161-162, 171, 178
Green, Julien 155, 505-506
E Guenon, Rene 51, 242, 245-247
East Asian Economic Research Bureau I lallaj, Mansur al- 65-67, 70, 95, 104—
2, 54, 101, 552 106, 115, 145, 147, 152, 255
Eckhart, Meister 56, 115
“ Elegies of Cli’u.” See Ch'u Tz'u H
Eliade, Mireea xi, 112, 116, 141, 206, Hillman, James 229, 295-296, 544
224, 227, 252, 257-241; and history of Ulnayana (TT , the lesser vehicle) 50, 65
religion 95, 111, 229, 254-255, 241, 55S; I lino, Keizo (I IM^H) 260, 296, 501-505
and shamanism 110-112, 11S, 247, 265 I lobokcu, E\’a van 251-252
Eliot, T.S. 40, 140, 245, 551 I loly Spirit 80, 166, 169, 254, 258, 515
Endo, Shfisaku 147-14(6, 150-155, 191, I I l i a Yen ( I luavan; J. Kegon) xii,
260, 28(6, 296, 501; colloquv with 225, 255, 288-290, 299, 512-515, 540,
l/utsu 45, 144, 155, 268, 545 595-594; and modern philosophical
 problem atique 299; four Domains of Institute of Philological Studies (Keio)
289-290, 298. See also A v a ta m s a k a - s ii t r a ix, 199, 332- M v M7
1Inmboldt, Wilhelm von 107, 164-16S, Institute of the Islamic Area 34, 332
199 Iran 33, 64, 121, 133, 138, 248, 236-23";
Husserl, Ldniund 241, 270, 308 Iranian revolution x, 133, 248, 233-237
I s h i k i to h o n s h i t s u (Consciousness and
I essence) x, 2, 6, 11, 23, 34, 40, 108,
1 C l u n g (hb%£, Yi jmg; Book of Changes) 112, 130-131, 135-136, 176, 180, 184,
xii, 223, 275 202-203, 218, 222, 239, 247, 250-251,
lamhlielms 24, 261 253-286 p assim , 287-288, 291, 294­
Ibn Ruslid. S e e Avcrrocs 296, 298, 302, 307, 314, 323, 341-34-L
Ibn Sma. See Avicenna and Lranos xii, 223-224, 253-255;
Ibn 'Arab! ix, xi, 102, 132, 206-213 pas­ and Oriental philosophy xiii, 258,
sim, 230, 232, 258, 261-262, 273, 284, 260-262; and WORD 49, 121, 162, 168,
290, 303, 310, 312, 339; and Arabic 282-283; as I/.utsu s magnum opus
nivsticisin 64-63, 106, 139, 200, 202, xii—xiii. 160, 168, 259; as spiritual auto­
209-211, 213; and Being 163, 202, 204, biography xii, 2, 264-270 p a s s i m . See
251, 234, 277, 317; and D i v i n e C o m e d y aiso consciousness, essence; linguistic
132, 210, 243, 301; and unite of exis­ <7/cm/-cousciousncss
tence 99, 163, 212-213, 24^’ 29°< 3!5- i s h i k i n o k e i j i j o g a k u (Metaphysics of
Sec also S u f i s m a n d T a o i s m consciousness) xi, 9, 163, 277, 286,
Ibrahim, Abdur-Rasheed (Ibrahim, 318-319, 347-348. See also Awakening
Abdiirresfd) 30-34, 297, 331-333 o f F a i t h in t h e M a l u l v a n a
lkcda, Yasaburo (vt!iPQ$®H£IS) 21-22, Islam 61-69, 125-126, 129, 131, 134,
39-40, 180-181, 184, 309, 322, 331, 343 192, 201, 227, 235, 243-246, 248, 256,
I m i o f u k a m i e (To the depths of mean­ 262, 311; and Japanese interest in 36,
ing) x, 136, 162, 174, 298, 303, 308, 343 50, 54-61 passim , 101, 104, 116, 197,
Imperial Iranian Acadcmv ot Philosophy 290, s e e a l s o l/.utsu, Toshihiko, and
x, 247-248, 233, 257, 340 Islam; Islamic mysticism 64-65, 6~,
Inagaki, Taruho (fiatl^tli) 26-27, 29 99, 142, 158-159, 200, 202, 206, 20S-
Inatomi, Lijiro (fia11i4$ATrd 30 213, 215, 217, 267; Islamic philosophy
lnoue, Yoji (#±ffrn) 106, 147-148, xii, 7, 57-58, 61, 156, 160, 206-207,
D2-D3 214, 261, 353; I s l a m i c a 54, 332, 3601138.
Institut International dc Philosophic Sec also A r a b i a shisoshi-, A r a b i a tet-
160, 248, 339 s u g a k i r , S u f i s m a n d 'Taoism
Institute of Biblical Research (later. Insti­ lsmailis 159, 345
tute of 1lebrew Culture) 42, 44, 331 isuram u b u n k a (Islamic civilization) x,
Institute of Cultural and Linguistic 155, 242, 343
Studies (Keio) 200, 337-338 isu ram u seitan ("Die birth ot Islam) x, 1,
Institute of Islamic Studies (McGill) x, i2i, 155, 15", 341
->->(3_-»
->v' ->S
ss° i s u r a m u s h i s o s h i (1 Iistorv
of Islamic
Institute of Ismaili Studies 199, 343 thought) 61, 121, 206, 334, 540
Isnramn lelsnyaku no genzo (The orig­ passim, 197-194, 199, 227, 227-226,
inal image of Islamic philosophy) \, 241-242, 277, 280, 284, 296-21)7, 776;
\iii. 1 70. 177-176, 72C 779, 742 works ol .see under individual lilies
Iwauii, Takashi (VfWTf?) 726, 729, 777 l/utsu, Toyoko (jl Pf'bf 6) 70, 72-77, 186
Iwashita, Soiclii (Vf Ml: *) 77, 141, 144 l87> 2<sT 297’ 82(\ 775. 747-747. 748
Izui, llisanosukc ( 1 0 8 , 199,
">*■>—
8 8 / )
l/ntsm Shinko (H'-fftLA, /•) 7, 770, 774 Jakohson, Roman 167, 177-174, 207
l/.ntsn, Shintard (CD ?J? EM) 7-8, 11, 14, Jarullfili, Musa 70, 72-74, 297, 772, 774
21, 79, 74, 162, 186, 770, 77-, Jesuits 28, 148, 229
Izutsu, Toshihiko (JI:DfC'=M, and Bud­ Jesus Christ 19, 62, 64-67, 69, 74, 108,
dhism xii, 10, 49, 127, 171, 160, 167, 117, 120, 126
272-277, 290; and Christianity \ii— Jew islmess, ol Derrida 49, 267, 708; of
xiii, 24, 77, 76, 126, 174, 147-177. iS(S. Marx "7-74; of Sartre 267. See also
275, 268-269, M°. 774; iintl Cheek I lehraism; Judaism
philosophy 1-78 passim, 40, 46, 102, Jing jiao. See Chiugchiao
117, 127, 176, 160, 162, 211, 270, 261, Joachim of Eiore 278-279
297, 771; and Indian philosophy xii, Jodo (fET, Pure l,aud) 19, 117, 717; dodo
10, 160, 167, 277, 261; and Islam ix, xii, Shinshu (fE±i 4 T, True Pure Land)
2, 42, 48, 70-74, 79-60, 117, 119, 127, ~V
177-160, 167, 197, 270, 277, 268, 701, John Kriugena xiii, 24, 76-77; John of
771; and the Orient xiii, 2-7, 78, 77, Damascus 76; John of the Cross 127,
179-160, 210, 270, 242, 260-262; and 129, 147-146, 261; John the Baptist 67.
Taoism xi-xii, 40, 112, 179, 167, 207­ See also Cospel according to John
204, 210, 217-216, 220-221, 227, 271, Judaism 72-77, 42-44, 46, 49, 76, 77-74,
284; at Eranos Conference x, 68, 112, 101, 117-116, 126, 192, 247; Jewish
141, 276-277, 279-240, 277-277, 287, millenariauism 74; Jewish mysticism
297; Eranos lectures xii, 179, 227-227, “>
8“*■>_“>
8*8
>* 4>
ir
270, 289-291, 298, 729, 778-747, 746, Junawl of Baghdad 67-64
748; as literary critic 121, 176, 241, 260; Jung, Carl Custax 170, 167, 172-177,
facility with languages 40-42, 48, 68, 267, 277, 277, 289, 291-297, 297; and
94-97, 107, 142, 178, 177, 249, 278, 266, Eranos xii, 68, 170, 179, 229, 277, 240;
Kcio years ix, 20-21, 79, 71, 72, 94, Jungian psychology xii, 171, 260, 267,
176, 169-170, 180, 199-200, 211, 266, 297-2 97
297, 709, 770-779; on culture 87, 202,
241-244, 248-271, 261, 274-276, 281, K
292; translations and studies of Koran kaikvo Qairon (IHICfflOiiu, Introduction to
x, 107, 119-120, 177-178, 161, 164, 187, Islam) 77-76, 61
189-206 passim, 702, 777, 777; yiew kaikyoken (EllCH, Islamic Area) 2, 74,
of scholarship 6, 22, 41, 97, 186, 192, ->*>->
222, 277, 241, 297; work on semantics Kant, Immanuel 26-27, 277
88, 176-179, 161-168 passim, 180-188 KatO, Morio (fill if#SDf) 21-22, 771
Kawai, I lavao (M n'faift;) 260, 286-294, Lan g u ag e an d M agic 175, 156, 169, 1-2,
**
■>*>~>
*s— 176-178, 180, 184, 190, 199-200, 207,
Kaw’asliima, Daijird (JII^^M/’I^ 169-171, 225, 776, 749
174, 326, 7751122 Lao-tzu (424Y Laozi) xi-xii, 76, 40, 89,
Kazamaki, Keijiro (/j&^vYXfip) 1S7—i<S.S 112, 159 207-204, 210, 215-218, 221, 227,
Kcgon (#-i5ft) 2S8-290. See also llua Yen
Kcio Uniyersity xi, 14(8, Lauf, Dctlef Ingo 257-254
191, 225, 726-727. See also Izutsu, Lenin, Vladimir 7 7 - 7 5 , 7 9 , 97; Lenin­
Toshihiko, Kcio years ism 77
Khomeini, Ruhollah 155, 255-256 Lermontoy, Mikhail -2, -5, ~8, 85-97
Kitab al-MashcTir (Book of metaphysical “ Lettre a 1111 ami japonais” 706-707, 744
penetrations) 158, 741. See also Mnlla Leyi-Strauss, Claude 202-207, 701
Sadrii Lex'inas, Kmmanucl 708
Klibansky, Raymond 160, 248 Li Lr. S e e Lao-tzu
Kobayashi, Hideo (ThfAiWi) 79-82, 121, Li Sao ($!§$, L f Sao) 219, 221
145, 148, 151, 259, 295, 701 Lin Chi Lit (Wft&L Liuj'i hr, The Sa\-
Kojiki (A'TftL Records of ancient mat­ ings of Master Lin-Chi) 4, 770
ters) 264
Kokiushu Collection from M

ancient and modern times) xii, 167, Maejima, Sliinji (iijTSjfdA) 50, 772, 777
180, 184, 187-188 Mahayana ( A 4L greater ychielc) 70, 55,
Kongzi. See Confucius 151, 272, 277, 291, 298. See also A w a k ­
Koran (Our’an) xiv, 48, 52, 57—59, 61, e n i n g o f F a i t h in t h e M a h a y a n a
105, 117-120 126, 206, 225, 702. See M ahom etto (Muhammad) 1-2, 106,
also lztusu Toshihiko, translations 117-126 p a s s i m , 170, 156, 197-194, 700,
and studies of Koran 702, 729, 775, 747
Koran o voiiiu (Reading the Koran) x, 59, Maimonidcs, Moses 102, 779
120, 150, 156, 190, 249, 744 Makino, SliinYa (& i f fate) 157, 168, 740
Kosumosu to anchi kosumosu (Cosmos Mallarme, Stcphane xii, 11, 40, 160, 176,
and anti-cosmos) x, 298-299, 778, 747 181, 268, 280-282, 717-714
Kotsuji, Setsuzd (/hitfipH, Abraham) fft, Collection ot ten
M a n v o s h u [ 7j M
42-46, 48-49, 110, 771 thousand lcaxcs) 167, 178, 180, 187-
Kukai (?L'M) 160, 162-167, 179, 187, 192, 1S7, 249
282-284, 291, 297, 700 Marcel, Cabriel 112, 140, 148, 26S
Kuki, Sliiizd CtHJnbii) 141-144, 270-271 Maritain, )aec|iies 107, 144-145
Kurivagawa, Kumio (JsRII^CT) 771, 742 Marmama, Kcizaburd (AlJLl k^i£P) 260,
Kvoto (m ?$) 42-47, -89; Kyoto School 296, 707-707, 744, 7941159
142: Kyoto Uniyersity (4 ( ® A ^ ) 108, Marx, Karl 77-74, 88, 97, 278; Marxism
187, 199-200, 770 58, 7s
Maspero, llenri 217-218
L Massignon, Louis 64-70, 105, 115, 140,
Landolt, I lermann 202, 225, 777, 745 145, 14-, 167, 204, 2i—, 225-22-; infhi-
 eucc on l/utsu \i, 66-69, 65 ' 225' 255, Mvoe (6JaU) 288-290, 294
240,245
Matsmnoto. Nohuliiro (t^Y(,fti'i) 199­ N
200, 552, 557 Nagarjuna 55-56, 102
Matsuoka, Yds like ( tidtfhY 6') 44-45 Nakavama, Nliki pl'ltOO) 101, 192, 197—
Mauriac, lYanqois 62, 140, 150, 260 198; Nakavama, Slid/en (111111115?'v) 101
McGill Univcrsitv \, 158, 200, 202, 225, Nasr, Sewed 1lossein 242-244, 247-248,
88w 8V 585U50
Meaning of Meaning, l he 1—1—174 Natsume, Sdseki OillifGi) 21, 171, 550
Melkitc Greek Gatholic Gliurch 66, 69 Xansee, La (Xansea) 265-2-1, 275, 282,
Mencius (rfij\ McngXi) 216 8 8 8

Mcrc/.hkovskv, Dmitrv 75, 87 9 7 96, Neoplatonism 24, 88, 165, 187, 29- —298,
1-6 556
Merlcau-Pontv, Maurice 108, 508 Nestoriauism 57, 187, 500
Alikagnra-nta (S+fjX'botz. Songs tor the New Testament 42, 62, 77, 161, 5751122.
service) 197, 524 See also Bible; Gospel; Old Testament
Mind and Heart of Lore, The 148-150, Nicholson, R.A. 65, 245, 545
->*>- Nishida, Kitard (AiLU^^ 1%) \i, 142, 144,
Mima, Kazuo (Otiljfnttj) 87-88 291, 508-515, 516-51-
Mo-t/u ('6 T, Mo/i) 216 Nishitani, Keiji (ft'tfvNtn) \i, 95, 546
Moliagliegh, Melicli (Mnhaqqiq, Maluli) Nishiwaki, Jun/aburd (Pi 11$MH kit) \i, 20,
_uu, -,y j 22-24, 4 ° ’ '68, 170, 199, 295, 522,
Mori, Arimasa (APffiK) 265 550-552, 544
Moroi, Vosliinori 101-120, 126,
145, 19--, 511-512, 524 O
Motoori Norinaga {TWoTk) 89, 152, Ochi, Yasuo htiftJfYY) 144, 147-151
265-264,501 Oe, Keu/ahuro f NiT.iil ■ : f!|t), 296,
Mo/.h See Mo-t/u 500-501
Muhammad i.\, 1, 58, 51, 56-58, 62-65, Ofndesaki 'The Tip of the
68, 115, 125-126, 150-155, 155, 156, 175, Writing Brush) 197, 524
195, 256; and divine revelation 57, 77, Ogden, C.K. 170-1-5
104-106, 118-121, 126, 189, 195, 198, Okaknra, Yoshisaburd (itijfnilAkiS)
222, 260; Mnhammad-Rcalitv 214. See _ G'-'T2
also Alahomctto Okawa, Sliumei (NJII/rJnJJ) \i, 2, 54-56,
Muhaqc|ic|, Malidi. See Moliagliegh, 58—61, 101, 15S, 195, 297, 552, 556
Mehdi Okubo, Koji (NAffiOOO 2, 5 4 - 5 5 , 158,
Mid la Sadra 158, 200-201, 541 ->*>*>

Murakami, 1liroko (t4 i:P /74 168-1-0, Old Testament 19, 55, 4 2 - 4 5 , 65, —, 150,
88^r 154, 156 175, 195, 222, 255, 2-8. See also
Mnramatsu, Takeshi 61; Alura- Bible-
matsu, Tsuneo (fttiAM#) 60-61 Orient, the 49, 66, 142-145, 199, 206,
Murry, J. Middleton 80-81, 116 218, 252, 254^-255, 240, 291, 509;
 Oriental philosophy xiii, 67, 127-128, Portmann, Adolf 228-229, 254
159-160, 187, 202, 204-205, 210, 221, Proclus 24-25, 102, 261, 500
25S, 262-265, 266, 277, Protestantism 42-44, 81, 227, 229, 254,
280, 291-295, 509. S e e a l s o Izutsu, 550
Toshihiko, and the Orient; synchronic Pure Rand Buddhism. S e e Jodo
structural ization Pushkin, Aleksandr 72-75, -5, 78-79,
Orikuehi, Shinobu (ttfPOik) xi, 22, 180, 82-85, 85-86, 91, 174
184, 199, 295, 509, 551, 555 Pythagoras 10, 16, 201, 262, 518. S e e also
Orpheus 16; Orphism-Pxthagorism 16, Orphism-Px thagorism
“>->
Orthodox, Russian 78, 81 O
Otto, Rudolf xi-xii, 68, 229, 255-257, Oabbfdah 54, 49, 179, 247, 255, 285, 559,
240,250 842
On Yuan. S e e C li ’ii Yuan
P Our’an. See Koran
P eng (iB, Peng) 220
Pahlavi, Mohammad Rcza, II, Shah of R
Iran 248, 256, Ramanuja 255
Parmenides 16, 18, Religion of the Dixmc Wisdom. See
Pascal. Blaise 62, 117 Tcnri-kxo
Patanjali 145-146, 240 Richards, I.A. 1-0-172,
Paul, Apostle 55, 46, 105-106, 120, 152, Rilke, Rainer Maria xii, 11, 74, 89, 91,
178 160, 268, 521, 525
Perennial school 51, 242, 247-248. Sec Rimbaud, Arthur 81, 88-91, 121, 167,
also p h i l o s o p h i c perennis-, Traditionalist 181-182
school Ritscma, Rudolf 228, 255
P i Y e n lAt B 'm in U r , 'The Blue R o s h i a b u n g a k u (Russian literature)
Cliff Records) 4, 550 72-75, 82, 87-88, 90, 121, 155, 190, 555,
Plato 9-11, 17-19, 41, 62, 89, 154-155, R o s h i a t e k i n in g e n (Russian humanity)
222, 251, 510, 518, 521; as mystic phi­ x, xii, 71-100 p a s s i m , 122, 155, 156, 165,
losopher ix, 15, 17-19, 52, 80, 91, 128, 174, 176, 224, 260, 265, 555
159, 165, 185, 201, 211, 254, 262, 279, Runif, Jalal ad-Dln Muhammad 56, 541
299-500; Platonism 9, 15, 17-18, 24, Russia 42, 55, -1-10 0 p a s s i m , 165
52, 165, 297-298, 500. S e e a l s o Neo­ Russian Muslim League 55
platonism; S h i n p i t e t s u g a k u
Plotinus 10, 154, 165, 168, 210, 256-257, S
261, 29--500, 510, 516-517, 546; as SabzaxxTirT 142, 158, 200-201, 225, 55-
mystic philosopher 17-18, 24-26, 52, Samburskx, Shmuel 229, 559
80, 102, 127-128, 145, 299-500. S e e Sapir, Ldxxard 164, 16-, 1-5. S e e a l s o
a l s o Neoplatonism Sapir-Whorf hypothesis
Pontigny 140-142
Porphyry 52, 299-500
Sartre, jcan-Panl \n, 74, 142-147, manism 17, 27, 72, 110, 112 117, 219,
179-160, 202, 267-268, 270-271, 708, 260, 299; as intellectual starling point
333. 345 1-2, 77, 47, 77, 87, 121, 717; the I Ichrcw
Salakc, Akihiro (B-: ft liplx) 187-184, 747 part 72-77, 76, 46, 107, 177; revised
Saiissure, Kcrdinand clc 16S, 704-707 version 76, 121, 127-129, 244, 277
Sawai, ^osl 1itsn£411 jTN) 104, 107, Shinto (?i|ij!S) 71,47, 247
19- 277-276. 726, 7S41176 Shirakawa, Shi/nka (I'lJUiTfO 177-181,
Savings of Master Pin-Chi, The. See 187-186, 218, 221-222, 7-61179, 7-71178
I ,in Chi 1,1/ South Manchuria Railwa\ Conipam
Schelling, I'rieclriell 26-2", 87, 9S, 279 45 * 54
Selioleni, Cershom 229, 2~6, 779 Soviet Union 44, 92, 94, 98. See also
Sehuoii, I'Vithjot 71, 242, 244-248 Russia
Sekine, Masao (HtJfRiOtt) 19, 42, 48, 267, Spain 129, 172, 206-207, 247, 261, 779
->->1
V Steiner, Rudolf 110, 201, 278, 779
Sein und /eit (Being and Time) 147, 271 Strakhov, Nikolai “ 9, 7671174
Seinite/Semitie 48, 76, 62, 101, 106, 219, Strueture of the Kthieal Terms itt the
221 Koran, 'I he 177, 164, 190, 202, 776, 740
Shah ot Iran. See Pahlavi, Mohammad Sufism 76, 67, 147, 179, 202-204, 206,
Reza, II, Shah of Iran 221, 247, 246, 27” ; Siipsm and Taoism
SliTa/Shr ite sect 6~-68, 179, 192, 276, 2, 76, 69, 117, 172, i 78—
*—179, 202-222
344 passim, 227, 229, 279, 249, 278, 29S,
Shiha, Ryotaro M,ICE AM) 40-41, 70-71, 778; and shamanism 112, 204, 210-211,
60, 187, 296-297, 700, 722, 744, 74- 220—222, 260
Shih Chi (iUfi, 87?///; Book of I listorv) Snhrawardf 117, 201, 226, 274, 261-262,
112, 216 2" 4 ’ so2’ 5W 34 1
Shih-ching (ttfT SlnjJng; Book of Songs) Suzuki, Daisetz (fyTA fill) \i, 76, 77,
1- 8 270 -2 77’ 237’ M5, r A 74 2
Shin Ajia (ffrri/ 7. New Asia) 2, 74, 772 Swedenborg, Pmannel 91, 272-277, 279, 289
Shingon ( A A true language) 162-167,
179, 192, 261, 276, 282-287, 28> 297’ T
700, 747. See also Kfikai; WORD Takahashi, Iwao 41, 779; Taka-
Shiiikokinshil (W\6'AUS, New collection hashi, Takako (iSRS/j /j *-/-) 147, 177, 296
of poems ancient and modern) 180, Takamura, Richio (itMT'P.TV A). See
187-187, 188 Yokemnra, Yoshitaro
Shiupi tetsugaku (Philosophy of mys­ Takenchi, Yosliimi (ffPTf) 54-57
ticism) i\-\, xiii, 1-78 passim, 48, Tantrie Buddhism 160, 187, 287. See also
80, 8~, 120-122, 144-147, 149, 176, Knkai
167-166, 168, 170, 177, 187, 188, 207, lao (i£2, Dao; the Wav) 112, 204; 7 do
211-212, 221, 271, 277, 267, 267-268, Te Ching (jift&IT Daodejiug; Book
2 - 1, 279, 701, 707, 708, 710, 712-714, of Lao-Tzu) 216; Taoism 40, 112, 128,
716-718, 721, 727, 771, 777-774; and 179-160, 187, 207-204, 217-218, 270,
nous 10-11, 46, 76, 91, 167; and sha­ 271, 261, 778; as religion 76, 217, 21“
 See also Izutsii, Toshihiko, and Tao-
*k Weisgcrber, Leo 41. 15- , 163-168, i- ~,
ism; Sufism and 'Taoism 180, 190, 278, 536
Tathagata 274, 276, 296 Wliorf, Benjamin 164, 167, m3, 182. See
Tehran x, 15S, 255-257, 338-339, 341 also Sapir-Whorf hypothesis
Teuri University 101, 104, 346; Wu M en Kuan (MHPd, W i h n e n C u air,
Tenri-kvO (Af'fll'O 101-103, 107, 113, The Gatcless Gate) 4, 330
113-117, 192, 197-198, 324; Tenrikvol-
ogv 101, 103, 116, 3791118 X
Teresa of Avila 8, 153, 261 Xenophanes 10, 23, 311-312
Thomas Aquinas 35-36, 102, 120, 133,
138, 144, 209-210; Thomism 102, 210; Y
Neo-Thomism 144 Yamamoto, Kenkichi (lllTf'dlA) 22, 148
Tolstov, Leo "2, 78, 85, 335 Yamazaki, Ben’nei (ULl^ttf-T) 315, 31”
Traditionalist sehool 242-250, 276, 295, Yanagi, Muncvoshi (Soctsu)(ffiPTf#) xi,
3851150. See also Perennial school; 27 84-88
-

Tradition, the Yanagita, Kunio 111, 180, 199

Trinitv, the 80, 152, 313, 315 Yasuoka, Shotaro (tc!|53 3, 21, 40,
Tsuji, Naoshiro (iiiiAFlfiP) 200, 332-333, 88, 95, 257, 296, 346
>■>/ Y i jTng. See / C i t i n g
Tvutchcv, lAodor 72, -5, 78, 82-85, Yin (K$) and Yang (IHU 182
96-98, 224 Yoga Sutras 240
Yogacara (consciousncss-onlv) \ii, 151,
U 223, 268, 280, 290. S e e also Well Shih
Ueda, Mitsuo (Tprutif) -6-34, 334; Yokcinura, YoshitarO (P&PJ'n AfW) 92-100,
Ucda Shizuteru (TEHP+l0?,) 291, 342
Yoshimitsu, Yoshihiko (AAK'Hifd 35,
V 144-148
\airocana-Buddha (AEYinY, Dainichi
Nyorai) 283, 285 Z
Yalerv, Paul 139-140, 170, 1^5—177, 233, Zen (Pi1-) 3-6, 8, 41, 89, 160, 230-231, 240,
Vatican 11 69, 149, 247, 372 261, 273, 330; and Lranos lectures xii,
Vergil 72, 80 225, 230, 290-291, 338-341, 346
\ e/elav Ahbev 130, 139 Y Jidn g vong.See C l u i n g Y u n g
Zhilzk S e e Chu-tzu
W Zhuangzi. S e e Chuaug-tzu
Wei Shih (ntUitt Weishi; “consciousness Zoroastrianism 57, 65
onlv” ) 261, 268. See also Yogacara
 Index
2. S U B JE C T IN D EX

A Arabia tetsugaku; Islamic mysticism;

A, letter/s\'liable 179, 285. See also letter Islamic philosophy
mysticism archetypes 150-151, 165, 225, 258, 2-75,
a-temporality 198, 229, 245, 265. See also 296
time articulation 1 5 , 167-168; as ontological
a'vdn thdbitah (fixed entities) 275. See principle 168, 215-215, 251, 275, 279,
also archetypes 282-285, 518; as semantic principle
ad-dln al-qaivim (eternal religion). See 9, 162, 168, 184, 250, 267, 505-504,
Vrreligion 518-519, 545
advaita monism 251 ascent 9, 12, 206. See also anabasis;
'dlani al-withdl (world of hguratiye land'
similitudes) 261. See also Corbin, asceticism 5-6, 14, 16, 65-64, 106-108,
1 lenrv; imaginal; uniudus imaginalis\ 145, 240
Suhrawardf attachment (4m>, usbin) 276
dlaxa-vijndna (Storehouse Conscious­
ness) 151, 280. See also linguistic B
tf/m’d-consciousness baqd' (subsistence) 206. Sec also kata-
anabasis (ascent) 9, 12, 205, 244 basis
analogia entis (analogy of being) 55, 158; Being 8, 18, 72, 78, 82, 92, 156-158, 142,
analogy 116-117, 281 147, 149, 177, 219, 224, 255, 269, 272,
anamnesis (recollection) 9, 85-87 276, 296, 298, 502-505, 506-507; and
angelology 120-121, 294-296; angels 85, consciousness 151, 184-185, 284-285;
91, 119-121, 158, 262, 296 Being is WORD 162-165, 206, 277, 279,
anima 10; and animus 150, 275 282-285; Ibn ‘Arab! on Being 202, 204,
annihilation, of self 8-9, 12, 17, 106, 126, 212-215, 217, 251, 254, 277, 517, see also
206, 272. See also fund' \\’ujud\ relation to beings 75, 84, 156,
Arabic language 57, 65,189-190, 192, 249; 165, 202, 207, 212-215, 246, 256, 266,
Arabic literature ix, 124; Arabic philos­ 275, 279, 282-285, 285, 290, 292. See
ophy 207, 209; Arabica 54; l/.utsu as also analogia entis (analogy of being)
student of Arabic ix, 2, 48, 50-54, 107, blja (seeds) 280. Sec also linguistic
158, 551, 556. See also Arabia sbisoshi\ u/m’(/-consciousness
breath, of God 79, 99, 184. See also D
merev/the Merciful, breath of ’ ‘ clatsuji (JK,f=J, Kuki's translation of
“ecstacy” ) 270-272
C dead, the 14, 27, 110, 222, 227, 249, 701,
chaos, primordial 224, 279-2S0, 307 719, 721-722, 724, 7771158
clironos. See time, quantitative death 214, 721, 724. See also life after
cognition 13, 147, 147, 166-167, C 1’ death
206, 269, 277 deconstruction 210, 706-708; ontological
color 167, 180-182; as WORD 167, 203, 266, 289
258. See also synesthesia depth consciousness 177, 184,191,220,
community 16, 111, 204, 275, 281; faith- 276, 276, 278, 280, 285, 287, 291-292,
based 71, 114-115, 201, 245, 287; lin­ 704; depth-consciousness philosophy of
guistic 41, 167. See also soboruost language 49,168, 179, 282-286, 701. See
consciousness 109, 155, 168, 184-186, also consciousness; A/{/-consciousness;
206, 220, 225, 241-242, 255, 258, 266, surface consciousness
269, 280-281, 287, 289, 702-707, 719; descent 9, 12, 205-206 sec also bacjcl;
and essence 185, 270-279 passim; katabasis; of the divine word 105-106,
and psychology 172, 276-277, 280, 194-195 see also revelation
291-297, inhcrentlv ecstatic 270-272. dialogue, inter-faith 57, 69-70, 116, 205,
See also c7/cm/-conseiousness; Being, 247, 288; svnchronic 46, 67-68; une
and consciousness; depth conscious­ dialogue dans la metaliistoire 69, 205
ness; Ishiki to lioiishitsa; linguistic Domains of Realty, Four 289-290. See
c7/cm/-eonseiousness; A/-realm/ also 1lua Yen
region; A/i;-eonseiousncss; surface duty, mystic’s sacred 17-14, 67, 107, 147,
consciousness 196, 244
contemplation 24, 106, 147, 177, 184, 298;
and Greek philosophy 7-9, 12-14, ^ E
18-19, 12$' ^4. See also theoria; vita Ecclesia spiritualis (Church of the Spirit)
couteiiiplativa 278-279
conversion 42-44, 62, 66, 69, 98, 102­ ecstasy, eestasis (ekstasis ) 15, 77, 106, 111,
10 4 , 114,275 149, 187, 220, 266-267; anc^ euthousi-
creation 10, 70, 49, 54, 176, 175, 207, asmos 8-9, 15, 147, 272, 705. See also
217-214, 247, 714; Creator 108, 117, 116, datsuji
178,242 emanation 10, 299. See also Plotinus
crisis, of European consciousness 11, 241; euergeia 165-166, 176, 184. See also
of philosophy 708; theology of 129 Humboldt, Wilhelm von
culture, clash of 177-174, 204, 708; enlightenment i\, 10—11, 15-16, 41, 48,
and language 48, 128, 174, 267, 147-144, 240, 244, 272. See also satori
278-279; cultural universals 75, 166, euthousiasnios (being filled with God)
247, 281. See also lzutsu Toshihiko, on 8-9, 15, 19, 147, 219, 271-272, 705. See
cultu re also ccstasv; shamanism
ergon 48, 165, 184. Sec also I luniboldt, Creek God 46-47, i}4, 249; language
Wilhelm von 8, 41, 79, 89, 129, 161, 166, 172, 2}4,
essence 183, 242, 230—231, 267, 269, 271; Greek literature 2}, 127, Cheek
270-279 passim, 281-282, 292, 296; mysticism ix, 2, 9, }6, 127, 211; Greek
pure 30-31. See also consciousness, philosophy 24, 28, }o, 32, 36, 38, 143,
and essence; Ishiki lo lionshitsu 149, 207; Cheek spirituality 13, 24, 32,
eternal life 12-1:9 16, 47, 124, 134, 217; 113, 300. See also I lebraism, and I Id­
eternit\' 89, 110, 124-123, 139, 214, 229, le n is1n; I/.utsu Tosliihiko, and Greek
244, 263, 272. See also time philosophy; Shinpi tetsngakn
existence, previous 91-92, 318; nnitv of
99, 212-21}, 246, 290, 313. See also Ibn II
‘Aral)! l.lac/q (the Absolute) 213; Am/’/ IJaqq
existential experience 8}, 147, 201, 230, 64-63, 67, 103
238, 264, 266, 268, 271, 274; Izutsu’s 11, I lebraism, and I lelleuism 43, 134, 138;
144, 136, 185, 261, 279; existentialism I lebrew Chid 42, 43, 47, 128, 134-133,
159, 200, 202 249; I lebrew language 42-43, 49. 331.
See also Judaism; Oabbalah
F hikmat (divine wisdom) 201; IJikmat
lana 206. See also annihilation, of self al-lshraq (Philosophy of Illumination)
forms 18}, 215; of meaning 284, 303, 306, 226, 262, 341; IJikmat philosophy 200­
201. See also Suhrawardl; theosophy
homo religiosus 116, 263
G hsing ch'i (ft:/l£, xhig cp; arising of the
Gnosis 67-68, 201, 228 Buddha-Realitv) 290
Cod, agent of wise love 311-312; as
subject of mystical experience 37, I
109-110, ii}, 126, 147, 219; immanence ichi sokn issai, issai soku ieln ( -fl|J - 6 J -
of }o, }7, 64-67, 105, 152, 2}}, 272, - -tCIHIJ—, One in All, All in One) 312,
316—317; maternal nature of 19, 59, 68, See also Aralainsaka-snIra
117, 132; names of God 75, 79, 128, 16}, Idea of the Good 18; Ideas, Platonic 7, 11,
171, 249, 276-277, 311—}i2, }i8; the 13, 17-18, 62, 91, 99, 147, 183-183, 222,
Parent 117, 313, }iS; paternal nature of 244,231,279
59, 117, 152; and religion/s }o, 111, 114— illumination (ilhnninatio, islmlq) 84, 201,
116, 126; and WORD 161-162, 178-179, 314; Illumination, Philosophy of see
191, 196-197, 222, 282-28}; unitarv IJikmat al-lshraq
nature of 128-129, D4_135’ 194-195, imaginal 191-192, 220, 226-227, 2^i,
212, }ii. See also Allah; Being; enthou- 280, 292, 319. See also Corbin, I leurv;
siasmos\ God and Man in the Koran-, mnndns hnaginalis
Greek God; 1lebrew God; One, the; imagination creatrice (creative imagina­
oreksis; persona tion) 191, 227-228
grace 4, 14, 59, 11}, 150, 192-19}, 2}S, 315 imam 31, 33, 192, 236
immanence 65, 152, 290, 314, 316-317. kokoro (=irjn, MIND) 276; [ZZ6, psyche)
S e e a ls o panentheism ’' 293. S ee also WORD; s h i n
Indian philosophy 28, 56-58, 89, 107, k o m y d ()£BJj, light of grace emanat­
145-146, 200, 234, 240, 298, 377, 345. ing from the Buddha) 4, 14, 315;
S e e a ls o Izntsn, Toshihiko, and Indian Komyokai 315
philosophy k u . See k ' u n g

Intellect. See n o u s k u / k ' u n g (?£, k o n g \ void, nothingness)

interpenetration, mutual 285, 289-290, 266, 290

298. S e e a ls o Hua Yen
intuition 83, 138, 165, 183, 217 L
land of matutinal light. See Orient, the;
I Su lira ward!
jdhillyya (pre-Islamic period of “ igno­ Ia n g a g e 281, 306
rance” ) 62, 124-125 language, absolute 176, 281, 314 s e e a ls o
and j a w a l 59. S e e a ls o God, matcr-
ja liil metalanguage; WORD; V e r b e ; and
nal/paternal nature of spirituality 48, 136, 164-168, 172-174,
177_179’ l8-< 0 9 ’ 240-242, 244, 285,
Japanese literature 23, 160, 163, 183, 186— 296, 313-314. S e e a ls o culture, and
188, 261 see also K o k i n s h u ; M a n v o s h u : language; depth-consciousness phi­
Nishiwaki, Junzaburo; S h i i i k o k i n s h u , losophy of language; mother tongue;
w aka-, Japanese philosophical lan­ Izntsu, Toshihiko, facility w ith lan­
guage, development of 34-37, 172, guages; L a n g u a g e a n d M a g i c ; WORD
270-271, 310-315, 393056, 394059; letter mysticism 49, 179
Japanese pliilosopln xi, 2, 261, 271, life after death 14-16, 71, 91, 124, 141, 192,
309; Japanese spirituality 75, 186, 315 207-209, 211. S e e a ls o eternal life; pre­
jit s u z o n Kuki’s translation ot “exis­ vious existence
tential” ) 271 light, divine 25, 31, 37, 84, 109, 117, 120,
Jungian psychology. See Jung, Carl 214, 291, 298-299, 324 sec also k o m y d - ,
Gustav mctaphvsics/philosophv of light 115,
254, 262, 302 see also l l i k m a t a l - l s h -
K r d q ; SuhrawardT

k d h in (shaman) 194-195, 198. S e e a ls o linguistic r7/c/vc/-conseiousness 51, 151,

shaman 178-179, 236, 254, 280-281, 284-286,
time, qualitative
k a iro s. S e e 292, 301, 303. S e e a ls o consciousness;
karma 241, 281, 318-319 depth consciousness
k a t a b a s is (descent) 9, 12-13, 205-206, linguistics 59, 108, 148, 163-165, 184, 193,
244 203, 262, 304, 306; “ Introduction to
k en b u tsu (j£fL, seeing the Buddha) 41. Linguistics” lectures 80, 156, 168-180
S e e a ls o enlightenment p a s s i m , 184, 190, 326, 334-335
k e n s h o (hL'IT, seeing one’s true nature) 41, literary criticism. S e e I/utsu, Toshihiko,
277. S e e a ls o enlightenment as literary critic 121, 156, 241, 260
k is h it s u (5wfL temperament) 37 lo g o s 135, 172, 221
M monotheism 59, 101-102, 115, 219, 221,
AJ-realm/rcgion 256, 254, 27S-2S0. See 512, 516-517, 550; \s. polytheism 65,
also linguistic dlava-consciousness; 116 11-, 154-155
wunclus imaginalis mother tongue i6~, i” , 198, 258, 294
mandala 163, 205, 258, 274-276, 285 mu (M, Non-Heing, Nothingness) 292;
Many, the. See One, the A/(/-consciousness 281, 292-295. See
martyrdom 64, ~o, "7, 79, 115 also consciousness; unconscious, the
meaning, l/.utsu’s theory of 151, 161, 168, mumliis imaginalis (imaginal world)
i- o-i~i, 1—-179, 1(84-186, 193, 250, 226, 254, 261,278, 291, 501. See also
264, 266, 275, 2-8-285, 296, 502-505. Corbin, 1lenry; imaginal
See also linguistic (//c/vu-conscious- mystery religions 14, 16-17, 52, 149, 518
ness; WORD mystic philosophy (‘irjdn) 208. See also
mediocosmos 254. See also A/-realm; Islamic mysticism
inundus imaginalis; /ivischemvelt mysticism, Izutsu s definition of 9, 12-15,
me/e/e thanatou (training tor death) 211, 19-20, 5-, -8, 106-107, 115, 128, 144,
521. See also death 146 “ 147 ' 1_7 ' -<v -i"- - 35>- 4 4 >
merev 59, 117, 214-215; breath ot mercy/ 2-2-275; mystical experience 12, 57,
the Merciful 166, 215, 512. See also 64, 84, 104-105, 109-110, 115-114, 126,
jamah, God, maternal nature ot 146-14-, 211, 219; religious mysticism
meta-history (metahistoire) 15-, 191-192, 104-105, 108-110, 114, 145. See also
205, 224 Christian mysticism: Cheek mysti­
metalanguage 1-4, 199, 226, 256, 249, cism; Islamic mysticism; jewish mys­
294. See also language, absolute ticism; letter mysticism; shamanism;
metaphor 182, 21-, 274-275; of ink via mvstica
212-215; ° f mirrors 212; of tree 280; of Mvstik 146-147, 255.
water 152; of wind 166, 169 un til 151, 178, 191, 220, 2-5; mythology.
metaphysics 6, 26, 65, 80, 14-, 200, 205, Cheek 15-16, 110, 115
225, 229; and metaphysical experience
\, 142; and theology/true philosophy N
18, 51, 46, 80, 157, 245. See also light, nadlnr (admonishcr) 125-126. See also
metaphysics of Muhammad
MIND. See kokoro; shin nagame (II/fcAO) 185-186. See also mivu
miracles 62-65, 1 >7 110-mind (ZtthiN musliin) 276
mission, definition of 515-514; of Kranos noesis noeseos (thinking about thinking)
255, 255; of philosophy 19, 201, 205, 7
208, 244, 522; of poets 156-157, 176; Non-Being (ZS, ///(/) 266, 505
of prophets 126, 155, 262; of scholars Nothingness 5, 266, 282, 289-290, 292,
of religion 56, 251; of Russian writers 517. See also kil/k'ung
—, 84 nous (Intellect) 10-11,46, 76, 165,
nnvu (kL^, seeing) 185-185. See also os o4
nagame; Satake, Akihiro; synesthesia Xmninose, das (numinous) 254, 256. See
also Otto, Rudolt
o 27, 87-86, 90-91, 176-179, 167, 175­
One, the 15, 109, 117, 128, 177, 196, 207, 176, 184-185, 188, 268, 274, 280-281,
254, 272, 711, 318; and the Manx’ 208, 702-707, 714-715; poets and prophets
212, 217, 251, 711; of Plotinus 10-11, 174, 27, 79, 176-177, 175-176, 260; poets
299, 716-717. as forerunners of philosophers 27-24,
ontology 40, 149, 164, 168, 204, 211, 220, 219; poet as shaman 218-219; poets’
280, 285, 291, 704 influence on lzutsu x-xi, 11, 22-27,
o n to s o n(true realitv) 18, 212-217. Sec 176, 176, 708; poet-philosopher 156,
also l.laqq; true reality 259,299
(instinctive desire for the Abso­
o re k s is possession 15, 106, 146, 219. S e e a ls o sha­
lute) 19, 70, 125 manism
pratTtya-sannitpdcIa GAIT yuan ch i
P [yudnql], ]. c//g/; interdependent orig­
panentheism vs. pantheism 65, 152, ination) 277, 290, 712. See also yuan
716-717 chi
parallelism 275-276, 244, 250 297. See praxis 6, 8-9, 17, 19, 25, 144
Otto, Rudolph; svnchronicitv
a ls o prayer 61, 66, 76-77, 96, 106, 128, 179,
Perfect Man 214, 270 192; poetry as praver 27-24, 91, 175,
persona, divine 75-76, 116, 12S, 150, 196, prophecy 106, 177, 278; Prophet, the s e e
216, 228, and cultural differences 47, Muhammad; prophets 19, 79, 84, 92,
59, 174, 251, 711-712; personalism 74-75 116, 179, 277-278, 260, 267, 278, 717;
“phantom man" 722, 725 of the Old Testament 46, 77, 105-106,
pre-Socratie philosophers 17, 17, 27, 26, 174-177, 195, 222, 278. S e e a ls o poets
712. S e e a ls o Greek philosophy and prophets
p h ilo s o p h ia p e r e n n i s , 71, 205, 242, 245, psyche 7, 10, 172, 271, 288, 297
249. S e e a ls o mctaphvsics; Tradition­ psvchoanalysis 27, 229, 276-277, 280;
alist school psvchologv 10, 71, 80,159,172, 229, 258,
philosophy. See Arabic philosophv; 280; depth psvchologv 277, 286-289, 291,
depth-consciousness philosophv of 297-294; Jungian psvchologv see Jung,
language; Greek philosophv; Indian Garl Gustav. Sec a ls o Kawai, Havao
philosophv; Islamic philosophv;
Japanese philosophy; metaphysics; R
mission, ot philosophv; Oriental reader, role of xiii-xiv, 7, 71-72, 258-260,
philosophv; poctrv, and philosophv; 272-2-7, 291, 708; reading, as creative
religion, and philosophy; WORD, act xiv, 8, 27, 70, 45, 119, 160-161, 186,
philosophv of 197, 198, 264, 266, 296-708 p a s s im , 727
p n e u m a (breath, spirit) 10, 79, 167, 166 R e a lit d t 11, 91; Real World 9, 11-12, 14,
poctrv, and philosophv 27, 87, 175, 178, 82-S4, 707, 727
176, 186, 268, 275, 281, 714; lzutsu and rebirth/reincarnation 91, 211, 718-719.
poetry 22, 24, 75, 40, 61, 85, 124, 176; S e e a ls o life after death
pure poetry ( p o e s ie p u r e ) 24, 174-1-6; rectification of names 222, 251. S e e a ls o
poets, as conduits of revelation ix-x. Confucius
religion, 30-31, 33, 58' 6 v 7 v 7 S, 103, sel f-cleifieat ioi 1 219 -220
109, 111-112, 114-113, 122, 128, 233-236, sell—manifestation, diyinc 39, 212—216,
244-246, 230-231, 274, 316; rigiditv ot 234, 246, 274-273, 283, 318. See a ls o
existing religions 34, 36, 63, 78, 126, articulation, as ontological principle;
227-228, 239, 249, 308; and mysticism tajallT
107, 116, 210, 219; and philosophy semantics 173, 266, 269. See a ls o articu­
16-17, s '- 3 2’ ,02’ ]49> -07, 300, 317; lation, as semantic principle; I/utsu,
world religion/s 36, 101, 103, 110, 116, Toshihiko, work 011 semantics
133. S e e a ls o Buddhism; Christianity; semiotics 223, 273
Islam; Judaism; mystery religions; shaman 81, 110-111, 128, 191, 194, 198,
Taoism; Tcnri-k\'0; theosophy; "Tradi­ 263; philosopher as 23, 32, 216-222;
tional school; U r r e lig io n shamanism 13, 36, 103, 128, 198, 213,
resurrection 211, 249, 324 219-221, 223; and mysticism, 103,
rexelation -, 60, 73, 89, 102, 103-106, 108-117 p a s s im
116, 162, 173, 197, 203, 238. S e e a ls o shin (/[>, mind) 10, 2-6. See also Ishiki no
descent, of the di\ ine word; Muham­ keijijd«aku
mad; poets as conduits of rcwelation s h i n j i t s u z a i (iVT'C, true reality) 310, 314.
See a ls o true reality
S s h in s h iin iY o hiXEOll, spiritual true
s(7g a ra -111 u d ra -s a in a d h i (MW^7Rb, likeness) 163. See also Is h ik i n o k eiji-
Ocean-Imprint-Contemplation) 298 jo « a k u \ Kflkai
s a j ' 193-198 s o h o r n o s t 74, 76-77
sahation 13-16, 31-32, 95, 99, 103, 109, soul 8-9, 14, 46-4-, 62, 80, 83-84, 87,
117, 123, 133, 212, 233, 239-240, 310; 89, 102, 112, 114, 137, 146-14-, 233, 311
personal \s. unixersal 13, 19, 60, 63, See a ls o life after death; salyatiou;
~2, -6-7S, 217 spirit, \-s. soul
s a w s a r a . S e e rebirth/reincarnation Spirit 73, 131, 231, 238-239, 299. See cdso
Sapir-Whorf hypothesis 164, 180. See 1loly Spirit; Zeitgeist
a ls o Sapir, Edward; Whort, Benjamin spirit 6, 8-9, 13-16, 37, 73-76). 96, 108­
s a fa r i (iliO) 240, 318-319. S e e a ls o 109, 136, 167, 211-212, 214, 313, 321;
enlightenment ot Eranos 224-223, 228-229, 237,
scholarship. See I/utsu, Toshihiko, yiew 233-234, 306; \\s. soul 10-11, 108,
ot scholarship 130-132; spirituality 13, 37, 48,
scholasticism, Christian 114-113, 209; 38-39, 63, 68-69, 72-73. 97' 108-109,
Islamic 202, 337 117, 138, 143, 192, 219, 220-231, 236,
seeds 1-8-179, 280. See also b ija \ linguis­ 230, 281, 283, 308, 313; Christian 129,
tic a l a v a - consciousness 148, 132-133, 172, 227, 238, 242; at
seeing, mystical experience of 37-38, 41, Eranos xii, 68, 141; of Muhammad
S4-S3, 113, 183-186, 272, 292, 293 103-106, 113, 126, 132-133; Oriental
S e ie n d e , d ie (beings) 202. S e e a ls o Being, spirituality 117, 274; Russian spiri­
relation to beings tuality 73-73, 81, 86, 88, 93 see a ls o
Sen?, d a s (Being) 202. See a ls o Being Japanese spirituality; language, and
 spirituality; s p ir it u s 10, 166 see also theology 23, 52, 37, 173, 201, 232, 324;
pneum a '' Christian 102, 114-113, 129-130, 138, 132,
struet 11 ralism 200, 202-203, 262, 301 209, 315; dogmatic 101, 116-117; Islamic
subject, of mystical experience 37, 110, 60-61, 143, 132, 206, 332; metaphysics/
146-147, 202, 219 philosophy as 18-19, T79
s i i f i 63, 63, 67, 201, 206, 243, 246. S e e t h e d r ia 8-9, 18, 128. S e e a ls o contem­
a ls o Sufism plation
Supreme Being 46, 134 theosophy (t h e o s o p h i a ) 200-202, 226­
surface (ordinary) consciousness 179, 227, 262. See also h ik m a t
184, 278-280, 283, 289, 292. S e e a ls o time, and eternity (cpiaiititatiyc \s.
depth consciousness cjualitatixe time) 72, 89, 113-116, 123,
symbol, as passageway of WORD 83, 139, 214, 263, 272; ecstatic 142-143;
220-221, 274-273, 278-279 of F, ran os 223-233 p a s s im . S e e a ls o
synchronic strueturalization ot Oriental a-temporality; Dogcn; Kuki, Slifizo;
philosophy xiii, 68, 89, 202, 210, 223, synchronieity; Zeitgeist
238, 261, 265, 274; svnchronicitv 236, Tradition, the 31, 188, 242, 244-243,
263-264,289,324 246-247, 249-230; t r a d it io n p r iin o r -
synesthesia 181-183 d i a le 243. S e e a ls o Perennial school;
Traditionalist school
T training for death. See n ie le t e t h a n a t o u
t'o ja n k u a n t 'u n g (I355.MRM, tu o rd n translation of the Koran 189, 196-197.
g u a n to n g -, sudden breakthrough) 272 Izutsu, Toshihiko, transla­
S e e a ls o
t a ja lll 213. self-manitestation
S e e a ls o tions and studies of the Koran
t a s a u ’u ’u f 63, 118. S e e a ls o Sufism transmigration 16, 91, 143, 211, 318. S e e
technical terms 34, 110, 119, 201, 242, death; rcbirth/reincarnation
a ls o
246, 277, 293, 3721163, 3931136 see also true reality 73, 83, 183, 308-319 p a s s im
d a t s u ji; imaginal; jitsu z o n -, n u in d u s truth 16-17, 77’ §E 107> T9 v 24 v ailc^
; ,
i m a g i n a l i s N u n i in o s e d a s\ p h ilo s o p h ia essence 231, 273; philosophical \\s. reli­
p e r e n u is ; theosophy; true reality; v ia gious 206-208; pursuit of truth 4, 6,
m y s t ic a ;
and dcyclopmcnt of metalan­ 16, 33, 37, 63, 78-79, 93, 98-99, 107,
guage 226, 236, 242, 270-271, 294, 304, 130, 144, 300
310, 313-314; Izutsu’s technical terms
2, 9-11, 13, 143, 162, 168, 230, 242, 271, U
274~277’ 279’ 28l<283-284, 296, 304 unconscious, the 27, 173, 2",3-27y, 280,
see also a n a b a s i s ; archetype; articula­ 291-292. S e e a ls o A/(/-consciousness
tion; consciousness; culture; e k s t a s is ; union with God 114, 129, 219; ys. unity
e iit h o u s ia s n io s ; essence; k a ta basis-, 2,3
linguistic (//r/vu-consciousncss; mean­ unity of existence 99, 212-213, 24^- 29CE
ing; nous-. Orient, the; joraxis; syn­ 313. S e e a ls o lbn ‘Arab!
chronic; WORD ur-cxpcrience 48, 104, 236, 234, 330
ur-laudscapc 8~, 167 other world 15, 80-81, 85-86, 90-92,
U r g r u n d (primordial nature) 117, 126 121-127, 178, 167, 194, 197, 244, 262,
U r religion (ur-rcligion) 115-116, 126, 245 267-268, 299, 707, 706; phenome­
nal world 9, 11-14, '6-17, 47, 57, 62,
V 74, 76, 87, 85, 98, 124, 177, 179, 151,
\ cdfuita philosophy 225, 254 157, 164, 177-174, 182 185, 201, 206,
V c rb e , le 176, 281, 514 210-212, 216, 224, 272, 247-244, 246,
v ia p h ilo s o p h ic a 19, 55 250, 267, 26-7, 272, 275, 289, 297, 295,
Village of There -1s-Absolu tel \-Nothing 706-707, 717; sensible 11, 217, 254,
it’//h o v u c h ih h s ia n g |wu 277-275, 280-281, 285; transcendental
he \011 zhi \ia 11 g]) 220 world 9, 11-12, 27, 47-48, 147, 1-7-174,
\'ision 72, 77, 81, 91, 120, 178, 206, 192, 224, 254, 297, 717; world of Ideas
216-217, 295, 298. S e e a ls o seeing, 11. 17, 18, 91, 202, 244; World Soul 87,
metapliysieal experience of 122. See also m u m l n s i m a g i n a ! i s \ Real
v it a c o n t e m p la tiv e ! 7, 14 \\VirId; / w i s e h e m v e l t
worldview 117, 142, 177, 272, 716; Koranic
W 54, 59, 164; language and worldview
1vaka (fttSR) 178, 180-182, 184-188, 297 167, 169, 184
White Revolution. See Iranian revolu­ no (in/). See m u
tion 1v u ju d (Being) 204. S e e a ls o Ibn ‘Arab!
WORD W8a ) 121, 156, 207, 242, 254,
258, 264, 266, 701, 706, 708; Being is X
WORD 162, 206, 277, 281-282, 284, x in g q f. See hsing c h 'i
717; philosophv of WORD 49, 165,
168, 178-179, 279-286 passim, 291, Y
297, 722; WORD, and words 168, voga 56, 145, 275, 240; Yoga Sutras 240
187-184, 199, 207, 282, 296; WORD v iia n c h 'i (L6hL vuancp, J. e n g i\
as origin of all tilings 48, 161-167, 166, interdependent origination). See
187-184,276,275-276, 279,282-287, p ra tT ty a -s a m u tp a d a
285, 707-704; WORD of God 49, 126, vugen (t$liA subtlety and protmiditv)
176, 191, 195-197, 220, 222, 287 185, 188
world, and reality 11, 47, 54, 62-67, 65,
75, 87, 91, 124, 129, 178, 267, 272-274, Z
281-286, 704; intelligible see 11011- Zeitgeist 17, 71, 57, 60, 78, 110, 141, 227
menal world; lotus repository world zero point 281, 284-285
298; metaphysical 82, 98, 177, 191; / w is e h e m v e lt 166, 254, 278. Sec also
nounienal world 9, 11-12, 72, 165, 227, M -realm; m u u d u s im a g in a lis ; Weis-
272, 244, 246, 250, 257-254, 267, 295; gerber, Leo
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jean Co n n e l lhas been a translator for more
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than thirty years. Based in Toronto, she has translat­

ed seven books for the LTCB International Library
Series.

Ja c k e t illu s tr a tio n :
David Noble, 't h r e e T re a s u re s M a n c la la (2002). Graphite
and encaustic on paper.
Ja c k e t d e s ig n Jjy NobleArts, Ltd.
 he only expression that seems .appropriate to describe the pres­
T ent book is “intellectual biography.” To be sure, it does follow the
events of its protagonists life in more or less chronological order. But
what stands out in the present book are the purely internal events of
intellectual development: his awakening to the mysteries of language;
his discovery through Greek philosophy that intellectual inquiry and
the vita contem plative! a re not mutually antithetical; the evolution of his
ideas about “meaning” while teaching linguistics at Keio University; the
impact on him of other thinkers, living and dead, or who were totally un­
known to Izutsu and yet were working simultaneously in parallel fields;
his work on the “synchronic structuralization of Oriental philosophy,”
an attempt to synthesize the major philosophical ideas of the Orient; his
encounter with the concept of WORD and the realization that semantics
is ontology, that Being is WORD.
Two aspects ofToshihiko Izutsu s life seem central to an understanding
of Izutsu, the philosopher of WORD: his extraordinary gift for languages—
by his own reckoning he knew thirty—and an early, seminal mystical ex­
perience. In a sense, the philosophy that he would go on to develop was
an attempt to articulate that experience not simply through language but
in linguistic terms. And yet, Izutsu was acutely aware of the limitations
of language and the way it delimits our view of the world. Differences
in languages, and therefore in cultures, are not superficial, he believed;
they indicate differences in perceptions of reality—hence, his fascination
with the different personae of God in world religions, the many names
for the One and his existential concern about the “clash of cultures.”
— F r o m th e T r a n s la t o r s N o t e s

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