Buddhist inclusivism and religious liberalism
Today I read Kristin Beise Kiblinger’s 2004 essay in Buddhist-Christian Studies, based on her University of Chicago dissertation, “Using Three-Vehicle Theory to Improve Buddhist Inclusivism.” She argues that three-vehicle or triyana (sorry, no diacritical marks) theory is a way to give a more robust framework for Buddhist inclusivism. As many Westerners conversant with Eastern religions know, at last superficially, Buddhism is in many ways a tolerant religion.
Kiblinger argues that tolerance can backfire upon itself, though.A few definitions to get out of the way before making application of her thesis (skip past these if you want to just cut to the chase):
inclusivism - “willingness to include the other (or something of the other’s) while keeping one’s home religious system primary”
anonymous inclusivism - the form of inclusivsm made famous by Karl Rahner, who argued that there could be “anonymous Christians” who unknowingly partake of salvation by Jesus Christ.
catuskoti - the Buddhist method of fourfold negation (A <> B, A <> non-B, A <> [B ^ non-B], A <> neither B nor non-B); emptiness or sunyata is the awareness of this radical negation or positionlessness
upayakausalya - “skillful means”, or the way in which the Buddha’s seeming contradictions are resolved; the Buddha did not contradict himself but adjusted his words for the needs of his listeners
satyadvaya - the idea that there are two levels of truth, one which is conventional–related to language, which posits essences, the self, etc; one which is ultimate–which would be the relatedness of all entities
Summary
How does Buddhism normally propose an inclusivist relationship with other religions? Kiblinger cites Masao Abe, who believes that sunyata can be a (positionless) position from which the conventional truths of other world religions can be understood. Unfortunately, this reifies Buddhism as “a perspective from which differences can be resolved”, and is self-defeating for the those who hold perspectivelessness as a goal.
The anonymous inclusivist approach is also found in Buddhism, Kiblinger says–within the ekayana or one-vehicle theory. (Mahayana is the term for the “Great Vehicle” while Hinayana is a pejorative term meaning “Lesser” or “Little Vehicle.”) For the Mahayana, becoming a buddha is the one true goal of liberation. The Hinayana’s aims, while legitimate, are partial. This is a kind of teleological inclusivist violence that is so often found in claims of tolerance. The goals of the other are subsumed into the “true” goal of the privileged religion.
Within Buddhism, upayakausalya is one way of subsuming other approaches–arguing that lesser methods “fit” Christians or Muslims, but that Buddhist aims are ultimate. Satyadvaya is used as another means of incorporating other religions in an inclusivist framework. From the perspective of ultimate truth, there is no difference between religions, those differences are merely conventional.
Kiblinger believes that the triyana theory more successfully navigates the problem of inclusivism. While the three-vehicle theory recognizes real (and not merely conventional) differences between paths to liberation, it also distinguishes between what liberation is aiming at. There is not one aim to which the other paths are subsumed. I’d like to quote a few sentences from Kiblinger’s concluding paragraphs, because I think that they’re applicable to more than just Buddhist approaches to inclusivism (as she herself indicates):
“Whatever one’s religion, for inclusivists, acknowledging the possibility of distinct ends has the advantage that it directs us to the alien religious systems themselves and to the aliens’ own accounts [my italics]…although all inclusivism (as defined here) will measure others in terms of the home ends, we must make sure that the other being measured is seen accurately.”
But what about tolerance? Can’t we just see the other as different and move on?
“Tolerance alone, I contend, leaves conflict unresolved and can even contribute indirectly to relativism and secularism. This is because consideration of religious others and of the incompatibilities among religions sometimes results in cynicism about all particular traditions..without a more positivie appreciation of others…tolerance…may actually lead to a culture in which neither the home nor the other tradition is valued–in other words, to an atmosphere hostile to any religious practice.”
So What?
Two points are key here in a practical sense. First, the reason that inclusivism is not taken up as an exciting solution to the problem of religious diversity (at least by those on the included end) is that often, interpretive violence is done to the other. This violence is perpetrated, I think, out of a discomfort that an alternate response to reality might exist and challenge the previously exclusivist viewpoint. Rather than engage honestly, grappling with where there is surprising common ground and fruit from methods we distrust, we would rather silence the other’s voice.
Second, the “tolerant” religious liberal is often as blameworthy when it comes to not listening. Glossing over deep differences for the sake of pragmatic “getting-alonged-ness” can backfire into a suspicion over religious practice in general. After all, if we’re all deep down the same, why do we need the “superficial” trappings which seem to tell us otherwise? And, too, if our religious home is so tolerant of other approaches, then what is so special about our own tradition?
What is the solution? Personally, I think one way is to learn more about the complicated ways in which human beings are simultaneously responding to the same world–and cannot but help to do so–and yet have space for different interpretations. Opening up this kind of space may seem to lead to skepticism (nothing is tying us to reality!), but it does not need to.
I’ve come circling around to John McDowell and Immanuel Kant (and more recently, Christine Korsgaard) because of this hope. I hope to say more about this later. In the meantime, thoughts?