20.
In my condemnation of Christianity I surely hope I do no injustice
to a related religion with an even larger number of believers: I allude to
Buddhism. Both are to be reckoned among the nihilistic
religions—they are both décadence
religions—but they are
separated from each other in a very remarkable way. For the fact that he
is able to compare them at all the critic of Christianity is
indebted to the scholars of India.—Buddhism is a hundred times as
realistic as Christianity—it is part of its living heritage that it is
able to face problems objectively and coolly; it is the product of long
centuries of philosophical speculation. The concept, “god,” was
already disposed of before it appeared. Buddhism is the only genuinely
positive religion to be encountered in history, and this applies
even to its epistemology (which is a strict phenomenalism) —It does not
speak of a “struggle with sin,” but, yielding to reality, of the
“struggle with suffering.” Sharply differentiating itself from
Christianity, it puts the self-deception that lies in moral concepts be
hind it; it is, in my phrase,beyond good and evil.—The two
physiological facts upon which it grounds itself and upon which it bestows
its chief attention are: first, an excessive sensitiveness to sensation,
which manifests itself as a refined susceptibility to pain, and secondly,
an extraordinary spirituality, a too protracted concern with concepts
and logical procedures, under the influence of which the instinct of
personality has yielded to a notion of the “impersonal.” (—Both
of these states will be familiar to a few of my readers, the objectivists,
by experience, as they are to me). These physiological states produced a
depression, and Buddha tried to combat it by hygienic measures.
Against it he prescribed a life in the open, a life of travel; moderation
in eating and a careful selection of foods; caution in the use of
intoxicants; the same caution in arousing any of the passions that foster
a bilious habit and heat the blood; finally, no worry, either on
one's own account or on account of others. He encourages ideas that make
for either quiet contentment or good cheer—he finds means to combat ideas
of other sorts. He understands good, the state of goodness, as something
which promotes health. Prayer is not included, and neither is asceticism.
There is no categorical imperative nor any disciplines, even within
the walls of a monastery (—it is always possible to leave—). These
things would have been simply means of increasing the excessive sensitiveness
above mentioned. For the same reason he does not advocate any conflict with
unbelievers; his teaching is antagonistic to nothing so much as to revenge,
aversion, ressentiment (—”enmity
never brings an end to enmity”. the moving refrain of all Buddhism. . .) And
in all this he was right, for it is precisely these passions which, in view of his
main regiminal purpose, are unhealthful. The mental fatigue that he
observes, already plainly displayed in too much “objectivity” (that
is, in the individual's loss of interest in himself, in loss of balance and of
“egoism”., he combats by strong efforts to lead even the spiritual
interests back to the ego. In Buddha's teaching egoism is a duty. The
“one thing needful,” the question “how can you be delivered
from suffering,” regulates and determines the whole spiritual diet.
(—Perhaps one will here recall that Athenian who also declared war upon
pure “scientificality,” to wit, Socrates, who also elevated egoism
to the estate of a morality).