Toshihiko Izutsu Sufism And Taoism P2.Ch04 IV Beyond This and That

 SUFISM AND TAOISM: A Comparative Study of Key Philosophical Concepts

by Toshihiko Izutsu 1983

First published 1983 by Iwanami Shoten, Publishers, Tokyo
This edition is published by The University of California Press, 1984,
Rev. ed. of: A comparative study of the key philosophical concepts in Sufism and Taoism. 1966-67.

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Contents

Preface by T. Izutsu

Introduction

Part I - Ibn 'Arabi

1 Dream and Reality

II The Absolute in its Absoluteness

III The Self-knowledge of Man

IV Metaphysical Unification and Phenomenal Dispersion

V Metaphysical Perplexity

VI The Shadow of the Absolute

VII The Divine Nam es

VIII Allah and the Lord

IX Ontological Mercy

X The Water of Life

XI The Self-manifestation of the Absolute

XII Permanent Archetypes

XIII Creation

XIV Man as Microcosm

XV The Perfect Man as an Individual

XVI Apostle, Prophet, and Saint

XVII The Magical Power of the Perfect Man

Part II - Lao-Tzii & Chuang-Tzu

I Lao-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu

II From Mythopoiesis to Metaphysics

III Dream and Reality

IV Beyond This and That

V The Birth of a New Ego

VI Against Essentialism

VII The Way

VIII The Gateway of Myriad Wonders

IX Determinism and Freedom

X Absolute Reversai of Values

XI The Perfect Man

XII Homo Politicus

Part III - A Comparative Reftection 

I Methodological Preliminaries

II The Inner Transformation of Man

III The Multistratified Structure of Reality

IV Essence and Existence

V The Self-evolvement of Existence

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IV Beyond This and That

We have seen in the last pages of the preceding chapter how

Chuang-tzü obliterates the distinction or opposition between Life

and Death and brings them back to the original state of 'undifferen-

tiation'. We have spent some time on the subject because it is one of

Chuang-tzü's favorite tapies, and also because it discloses to our

eyes an important aspect of his philosophy.

Properly speaking, however, and from an ontological point of

view, Life and Death should not occupy such a privileged place. For

all so-called 'opposites' are not, in Chuang-tzü's philosophy, really

opposed to each other. In fact, nothing, in his view, is opposed to

anything else, because nothing has a firmly established 'essence' in

its ontological core. In the eye of a man who has ever experienced

the 'chaotification' of things, everything loses its solid contour,

being deprived of its 'essential' foundation. All ontological distinc-

tions between things become dim, obscure, and confused, if not

completely destroyed. The distinctions are certainly still there, but

they are no longer significant, 'essential'. And 'opposites' are no

longer 'opposites' except conceptually. 'Beautiful' and 'ugly',

'good' and 'bad', 'right' and 'wrong', 'pious' and 'impious' -all these

and other conceptual pairs which are sharply distinguished, at the

level of Reason, and which actually play a leading rôle in human life,

are found to be far from being absolute.

This attitude of Chuang-tzü toward the 'opposites' and 'distinc-

tions' which are generally accepted as cultural, esthetic, or ethical

'values', would appear to be neither more nor less than so-called

relativism. The same is true of Lao-tzu's attitude. And, in fact, it is a

relativist view of values. It is of the utmost importance, however, to

keep in mind that it is not an ordinary sort of relativism as under-

stood on the empirical or pragmatic level of social life. It is a

peculiar kind of relativism based on a very peculiar kind of mystical

intuition: a mystical intuition of the Unity and Multiplicity of exist-

ence. It is a philosophy of 'undifferentiation' which is a natural

product of a metaphysical experience of Reality, an experience in

320 Sufism and Taoism

which Reality is directly witnessed as it unfolds and diversifies itself

into myriads of things and then goes back again to the original

Unity. This 'metaphysical' basis of Taoist relativism will be dealt with in

detail in the following chapter. Here we shall confine ourselves to

the 'relativist' side of this philosophy, and try to pursue Chuang-tzu

and Lao-tzu as closely as possible as they go on developing their

ideas on this particular aspect of the problem.

As I have just pointed out, the attitude of bath Chuang-tzu and

Lao-tzu toward the so-called cultural values would on its surface

appear to be nothing other than 'relativism' in the commonly

accepted sense of the term. Let us first examine this point by quoting

a few appropriate passages from the two books. Even at this pre-

liminary stage of analysis, we shall clearly observe that this relativ-

ism is directed against the 'essentialist' position of the school of

Confucius. In the last sentence of the following passage 1 there is an

explicit reference to the Confucian standpoint.

If a human being sleeps in a damp place, he will begin to suffer from

backache, and finally will become half paralyzed. But is this true of a

mudfish? If (a human being) lives in a tree, he will have to be

constantly trembling from fear and be frightened. But is this true of a

monkey? Now which of these three (i.e., man, mudfish and monkey)

knows the (absolutely) right place to live? 2

Men eat beef and pork; deer eat grass; centipedes find snakes delici-

ous; kites and crows enjoy mice. Of these four which one knows the

(absolutely) good taste?

A monkey finds its mate in a monkey; a deer mates with a deer. And

mudfishes enjoy living with other fishes. Mao Ch'iang and Li Chi3 are

regarded as ideally beautiful women by all men. And yet, if fish

happen to see a beauty like them, they will dive deep in the water;

birds will fly aloft; and deer will run away in all directions. Of these

four, which one knows the (absolute) ideal of beauty?

These considerations lead me to conclude that the boundaries be-

tween 'benevolence' (jën) and 'righteousness' (i),4 and the limits

between 'right' and 'wrong' are (also) extremely uncertain and con-

fused, so utterly and inextricably confused that we can never know

how to discriminate (between what is absolutely right and what is

absolutely wrong, etc.).

This kind of relativism is also found in the book of Lao-tzu. The

underlying conception is exactly the same as in the book of

Chuang-tzu; so also the reason for which he upholds such a view. As

we shall see later, Lao-tzu, too, looks at the apparent distinctions,

oppositions and contradictions from the point of view of the

metaphysical One in which all things lose their sharp edges of

conceptual discrimination and become blended and harmonized.

Beyond This and That 321

The only difference between Chuang-tzu and Lao-tzu in this

respect is that the latter expresses himself in a very terse, concise,

and apothegmatic form, while the former likes to develop his

thought in exuberant imagery. Otherwise, the idea itself is common

to bath of them. In the first of the following quotations from the Tao

Tê Ching, for instance, Lao-tzu implicitly criticizes the cultural

essentialism of the Confucian school.5

Cast off Learning,6 and there will be no worries. How much in fact,

difference is there between 'yes, sir' and 'hum!'? Between 'good' and

'bad' what distinction is there? 'Whatever others respect 1 also must

respect', (they say).

Oh, how far away 1 am from the cè>mmon people (who adhere to such

an idea). For (on such a principle) there will be absolutely no limit to

the vast field (of petty distinctions).

People tend to imagine, Lao-tzu says, that things are essentially

distinguishable from one another, and the Confucians have built up

an elaborate system of moral values precisely on the notion that

everything is marked off from others by its own 'essence'. They

seem to be convinced that these 'distinctions' are all permanent and

unalterable. In reality, however, they are simply being deceived by

the external and phenomenal aspects of Being. A man whose eyes

are not veiled by this kind of deception sees the world of Being as a

vast and limitless space where things merge into one another. This

ontological state of things is nothing other than what Chuang-tzu

calls Chaos. On the cultural level, such a view naturally leads to

relativism. Lao-tzu describes the latter in the following way: 7

By the very fact that everybody in the world recognizes 'beautiful' as

'beautiful', the idea of 'ugly' cornes into being. By the very fact that

all men recognize 'good' as 'good', the idea of 'bad' cornes into being.

Exactly in the same way 'existence' and 'non-existence' give birth to

one another; 'difficult' and 'easy' complement one another; 'long'

and 'short' appear in contrast to one another; 'high' and 'low' incline

toward each other; 'tone' and 'voice' keep harmony with one

another; 'before' and 'behind' follow one another.

Everything, in short, is relative; nothing is absolute. We live in a

world of relative distinctions and relative antitheses. But the major-

ity of men do not realize that these are relative. They tend to think

that a thing which they - or social convention - regard as 'beautiful'

is by essence 'beautiful', thus regarding all those things that do not

conform to a certain norm as 'ugly' by essence. By taking such an

attitude they simply ignore the fact that the distinction between the

two is merely a matter of viewpoint.

As 1 remarked earlier, such equalization of opposites surely is

'relativism', but it is a relativism based on, or stemming from, a very

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322 Sufism and Taoism

remarkable intuition of the ontological structure of the world. The

original intuition is common both to Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu. But

with the latter, it leads to the 'chaotic' view of things, the essential

'undifferentiation' of things, which in its dynamic aspect is con-

ceived as the Transmutation of things. In the case of Lao-tzu, the

same intuition leads, in its dynamic aspect, to an ontology of

evolvement and in-volvement, the static aspect of which is the

relativism we have just discussed.

As Transmutation (hua) is the key-word of Chuang-tzu in this

section of his philosophy, Return (fan 8 or fu9 ) is the key-term which

Lao-tzu chooses as an appropriate expression for his idea.

On the cosmic significance of the Return as understood by Lao-

tzu we shall have occasion to talk in a later context. Here we shall

confine ourselves to considering this concept in so far as it has direct

relevance to the problem of relativism.

The Return is a dynamic concept. It refers, in other words, to the

dynamic aspect of the above-mentioned relativism of Lao-tzü, or

the dynamic ontological basis on which it stands. He explicates this

concept in a terse form in the following passage, which may in fact

be considered an epitome of the whole of his ontology. 10

Returning is how the Way moves, and being weak is how the Way

works. The ten thousand things under heaven are born from Being,

and Being is born from Non-Being.

It is to be remarked that there is in this passage a covert reference to

two different meanings or aspects of 'returning' which Lao-tzü

seems to recognize in the ontological structure of all things. The first

meaning (or aspect) is suggested by the first sentence and the second

meaning by the second sentence. The first sentence means that

everything (a) that exists con tains in itself a possibility or natural

tendency to 'return', i.e., to be transformed into its opposite (b ),

which, of course, again contains the same possibility of 'returning'

toits opposite, namely the original state from which it has corne (a).

Thus all things are constantly in the process of a circular movement,

froma tob, and then from b toa. This is, Lao-tzu says, the rule of the

ontological 'movement' (tung),1 1 or the dynamic aspect of Reality.

And he adds that 'weakness' is the way this movement is made by

Reality.

The next sentence considers the dynamic structure of Reality as a

vertical, metaphysical movement from the phenomenal Many to the

pre-phenomenal One. Starting from the state. of multiplicity in

which all things are actualized and realized, it traces them back to

their ultimate origin. The 'ten thousand things under heaven', i.e.,

all things in the world, corne into actual being from the Way at its

stage of 'existence'. But the stage of 'existence', which is nothing

Beyond This and That 323

other than a stage in the process of self-manifestation of the Way,

cornes into being from the stage of 'non-existence', which is the

abysmal depth of the absolutely unknown-unknowable Way itself.

It is t-0 be observed that this 'tracing-back' of the myriad things to

'existence' and then to 'non-existence' is not only a conceptual

process; it is, for Lao-tzu, primarily a cosmic process. All things

ontologically 'return' to their ultimate source, undergoing on their

way 'circular' transformations among themselves such as have been

suggested by the first sentence. This cosmic return of all things to the

ultimate origin will be a subject of discussion in a later chapter. Here

we are concerned with the 'horizontal' Return of things as referred

to in the first sentence, i.e., the process of reciprocal 'returning'

between a and b. Lao-tzü has a peculiar way of expressing this idea

as exemplified by the two following passages.

Misfortune is what good fortune rests upon and good fortune is what

misfortune lurks in. (The two th us turn into one another indefinitely,

so that) nobody knows the point where the process cornes to an end.

There seems to be no absolu te norm. For what is ( considered) just

're-turns' to unjust, and what is ( considered) good 're-turns' to evil.

lndeed man has long been in perplexity about this. 12

The nature of things is such that he who goes in front ends by falling

behind, and he who follows others ultimately finds himself in front of

others. He who blows upon a thing to make it warm ends by making it

cold, and he who blows upon a thing to make it cold finally makes it

warm. He who tries to become strong becomes weak, and he who

wants to remain weak turns strong. He who is safe falls into danger,

while he who is in danger ends by becoming safe. 13

Thus in the view of both Chuang-tzu and Lao-tzu, everything in the

world is relative; nothing is absolutely reliable or stable in this

sense. As I have indicated before, this 'relativism', in the case of

Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu, must be understood in a peculiar sense,

namely, in the sense that nothing has what is called 'essence' or

'quiddity'.

All things, on the deeper level of Reality, are 'essence-less'. The

world itself is 'chaotic'. This is not only true of the external world in

which we exist, but is equally true of the world within us, the internai

world of concepts and judgments. This is not hard to understand,

because whatever judgment we may make on whatever thing we

choose to talk about in this 'chaotic' world, our judgment is bound

to be relative, one-sided, ambiguous, and unreliable, for the abject

of the judgment is itself ontologically relative.

The argument which Chuang-tzu puts forward on this point is

logically very interesting and important. The Warring States period

324 Sufism and Taoism

witnessed a remarkable development of logico-semantical theories

in China. In the days of Chuang-tzu, Confucians and Mohists 14

stood sharply opposed to each other, and these two schools were

together opposed to the Dialecticians15 (or Sophists) otherwise

known as the school of Names 16 • Heated debates were being held

among them about the foundation of human culture, its various

phenomena, the basis of ethics, the logical structure of thought, etc.,

etc .. And it was a fashion to conduct discussions of this kind in a

dialectical form. 'This is right' - 'this is wrong' or 'this is good' - 'this

is bad', was the general formula by which these people discussed

their problems. Such a situation is simply ridiculous and all these discussions are

futile from the point of view of a Chuang-tzu for whom Reality itself

is 'chaotic'. The abjects themselves about which these people

exchange heated words are essentially unstable and ambiguous.

The Dialecticians 'are talking about the distinction between "hard"

and "white", for example, as if these could be hung on different

pegs' .11

Not only that. Those who like to discuss in this way usually

commit a fatal mistake by confusing 'having the best of an argu-

ment' with 'being objectively right', and 'being cornered in an

argument' with 'being objectively wrong'. In reality, however, vic-

tory and defeat in a logical dispute in no way determines the 'right'

and 'wrong' of an objective fact.

Suppose you and 1 enter into discussion. And suppose you beat me,

and 1 cannot beat you. Does this mean that you are 'right' and that 1

am 'wrong'? Suppose 1 beat you, instead, and you cannot beat me. Does this mean

that 1 am 'right' and you are 'wrong'? Is it the case that when 1 am

'right' you are 'wrong', and when you are 'right' 1 am 'wrong'? Or are

we both 'right' or both 'wrong'? lt is not for me and you to decide.

(What about asking some other person to judge?) But other people

are in the same darkness. Whom shall we ask to give a fair judgment?

Suppose we let someone who agrees with you judge. How could such

a man give a fair judgment seeing that he shared from the beginning

the sa me opinion with you? Suppose we let someone who agrees with

me judge. How could he give a fair judgment, seeing that he shares

from the beginning the same opinion with me?

What if we let someone judge who differs from both you and me? But

he is from the beginning at variance with both of us. How could such a

man give a fair judgment? (He would simply give a third opinion.)

What if we let someone judge who agrees with both of us? But from

the beginning he shares the sa me opinion with both of us. How could

such a man give a fair judgment? (He would simply say that 1 am

'right', but you also are 'right' .)

From these considerations we must conclude that neither you nor 1

1T

Beyond This and That 325

nor the third person can know (where the truth lies). Shall we expect

a fourth person to appear? 18

How is this situation to be accounted for? Chuang-tzu answers that

all this confusion originates in the natural tendency of the Reason to

think everything in terms of the opposition of 'right' and 'wrong'.

And this natural tendency of our Reason is based on, or a product

of, an essentialist view of Being. The natural Reason is liable to

think that a thing which is conventionally or subjectively 'right' is

'right' essentially, and that a thing which is 'wrong' is 'wrong'

essentially. In truth, however, nothing is essentially 'right' or

'wrong'. So-called 'right' and 'wrong' are all relative matters.

In accordance with this non-essentialist position, Chuang-tzu

asserts that the only justifiable attitude for us to take is to know, first

of all, the relativity of 'right' and 'wrong', and then to transcend this

relativism itself into the stage of the 'equalization' of all things, a

stage at which all things are essentially undifferentiated from one

another, although they are, at a lower stage of reality, relatively

different and distinct from each other. Such an attitude which is

peculiar to the 'true man' is called by Chuang-tzu t'ien ni 19

(Heavenly Levelling), t'ien chün20 (Heavenly Equalization), or man

yen 21 (No-Limits).

'Right' is not 'right', and 'so' is not 'so'. If (what someone considers)

'right' were (absolutely) 'right', it would be (absolutely) different

from what is not 'right' and there could be no place for discussion.

And if 'so' were (absolutely) 'so', it would be (absolutely) different

from 'not-so' and there could be no place for discussion.

Thus {in the endless chain of 'shifting theses' 22 (i.e., 'right' 'not-

right' 'right' 'not-right' ... ), (theses and antitheses) depend

upon one another. And (since this dependence makes the whole

chain of mutually opposing theses and antitheses relative), we might

as well regard them as not mutually opposing each other.

(In the presence of such a situation, the only attitude we can reason-

ably take) is to harmonize all these (theses and antitheses) in the

Heavenly Levelling, and to bring (the endless oppositions among the

existents) back to the state of No-Limits. 23

'To bring back the myriad oppositions of things to the state of No-

Limits' means to reduce all things that are 'essentially' distinguish-

able from each other to the original state of 'chaotic' Unity where

there are no definite 'limits' or boundaries set among the things. On

its subjective side, it is the position of abandoning all discrimina tory

judgments that one can make on the level of everyday Reason.

Forgetting about passing judgments, whether implicit or explicit, on

any thing, one should, Chuang-tzü emphasizes, put oneself in a

mental state prior to all judgments, prior to all activity of Reason, in

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326 Sufism and Taoism

which one would see things in their original - or 'Heavenly' as he

says - 'essence-less' state.

But to achieve this is by no means an easy task. lt requires the

active functioning of a particular kind of metaphysical intuition,

which Chuang-tzu calls ming,24 'illumination'. And this kind of

illuminative intuition is not for everybody to enjoy. For just as there

are men who are physically blind and deaf, so there are also men

who are spiritually blind and deaf. And unfortunately, in the world

of Spirit the number of blind and deaf is far greater than that of

those who are capable of seeing and hearing.

The blind cannot enjoy the sight of beautiful col ors and patterns. The

deaf cannot enjoy the sound of bells and drums. But do you think that

blindness and deafness are confined to the bodily organs? No, they

are found also in the domain of knowing. 25

The structure of the ming, 'intuition', will be studied more closely in

due course. Before we proceed to this problem, we shall quote one

more passage in which Chuang-tzu develops his idea regarding the

relative and conventional nature of ontological 'distinctions'. The

passage will help to prepare the way for our discussion of the

'existentialist' position Chuang-tzu takes against the 'essentialist'

view of Being. 26

The nature of the things is such that nothing is unable to be 'that' (i.e.,

everything can be· 'that') and nothing is unable to be 'this' (i.e.,

everything can be 'this').

We usually distinguish between 'this' and 'that' and think and talk

about the things around us in terms of this basic opposition. What is

'this' is not 'that', and what is 'that' is not 'this'. The relation is

basically that of 'I' and 'others', for the term 'this' refers to the

former and the term 'that' is used in reference to the latter.

From the viewpoint of' I', 'I' am 'this', and everything other than

'I' is 'that'. But from the viewpoint of'others', the 'others' are 'this',

and 'I' am 'that'. In this sense, everything can be said to be both

'this' and 'that'. Otherwise expressed, the distinction between 'this'

and 'that' is purely relative.

From the standpoint of 'that' (alone) 'that' cannot appear (as 'that').

It is only when 1 (i.e., 'this') know myself (as 'this') that it (i.e., 'that')

cornes to be known (as 'that').

'That' establishes itself as 'that' only when 'this' establishes itself

and looks upon the former as its abject, or as something other than

'this'. Only when we realize the fondamental relativity of 'this' and

'that' can we hope to have a real understanding of the structure of

things.

Beyond This and That 327

Of course the most important point is that this relativity should be

understood through 'illumination'. The understanding of this

ontological relativity by Reason - which is by no means a difficult

thing to achieve - is useless except as a preparatory stage for an

'illuminative' grasp of the matter. lt will be made clear in the

following chapter that 'relativity' does not exhaust the whole of the

ontological structure of things. 'Relativity' is but one aspect of it.

For, in the view of Chuang-tzu, the ontological structure of things in

its reality is that 'chaotic undifferentiation' to which reference has

often been made in the foregoing. The' chaotic undifferentiation' is

something which stands far beyond the grasp of Reason. If, in spite

of that, Reason persists in trying to understand it in its own way, the

'undifferentiation' cornes into its grasp only in the form of 'relativ-

ity'. The 'relativity' of things represents, in other words, the original

ontological 'undifferentiation' as brought down to the level of logi-

cal thinking. In the present chapter we are still on that level.

Hence it is held: 21 'that' cornes out of 'this', and 'this' depends upon

'that'. This doctrine is called the Fang Shêng theory ,28 the theory of

'mutual dependence'.

However (this reciprocal relation between 'this' and 'that' must be

understood as a basic principle applicable to all things). Thus, since

there is 'birth' there is 'death', and since there is 'death' there is

'birth'. Likewise, since there is 'good' there is 'not-good', and since

there is 'not-good' there is 'good'.

Chuang-tzu means to say that the real Reality is the One which

comprehends all these opposites in itself; that the division of this

original One into 'life' and 'death', 'good' and 'bad', or 'right' and

'wrong' etc., is due to various points of view taken by men. In truth,

everything in the world is 'good' from the point of view of a man

who takes such a position. And there is nothing that cannot be

regarded as 'not-good' from the point ofview of a man who chooses

to take such a position. The real Reality is something prior to this

and similar divisions. lt is something which is 'good' and 'not-good',

and which is neither 'good' nor 'not-good'.

Thus it cornes about that the 'sacred man' 29 does not base himself

(upon any of these oppositions), but illuminates (everything) in the

light of Heaven. 30

Certainly, this (attitude of the 'sacred man') is also an attitude of a

man who bases himself upon (what he considers) 'right'. But (since it

is not the kind of 'right' which is opposed to 'wrong', but is an

absolute, transcendental Right which comprises in itself all opposi-

tions and contradictions as they are), 'this' is here the same as 'that',

and 'that' is the same as 'this'. (It is a position which comprehends

and transcends both 'right' and 'wrong', so that here) 'that' unifies

'right' and 'wrong', but 'this' also unifies 'right' and 'wrong'.

1

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328 Sufism and Taoism

(Viewed from such a standpoint) is there still a distinction between

'that' and 'this'? Or is there neither 'that' nor 'this' any longer? 31

This stage at which each 'that' and 'this' has lost its companion to

stand opposed to - this stage is to be considered the Hinge of the

Way. The hinge of a door can begin to function infinitely only when it is

fitted into the middle of the socket. (ln the same way, the Hinge of the

Way can respond infinitely and freely to endlessly changing situations

of the phenomenal world only when it is placed properly in the

middle of the absolu te One which transcends ail phenomenal opposi-

tions.) (In such a state) the 'right' is one uniform endlessness; the

'wrong' too is one uniform endlessness.

This is why 1 assert füat nothing can be better than 'illumination'.

The absolute One is of course the Way which pervades the whole

world of Being; rather it is the whole world of Being. As such it

transcends ail distinctions and oppositions. Thus from the point of

view of the Way, there can be no distinction between 'true' and

'false'. But can human language properly cope with such a situa-

tion? No, at least not as long as language is used in the way it is

actually used. 'Language', Chuang-tzu says, 'is different from the

blowing of wind, for he who speaks is supposed to have a meaning to

convey .' 32 However, language as it is actually used does not seem to

convey any real meaning, for those people, particularly the Dialec-

ticians, who are engaged in discussing 'this' being right and 'that'

being wrong, or 'this' being good and 'that' being bad etc., are

'simply talking about objects which have no definitely fixed

contents'.

Are they really saying something (meaningful)? Are they rather

saying nothing? 33 They think that their speech is different from the

chirpings of ftedglings. But is there any difference? Or is there not

any difference at ail? Where, indeed, is the Way hidden (for those people) that there

should be 'true' and 'false'? Where is Language (in the true sense)

hidden that there should be 'right' and 'wrong'? ...

(The fact is that) the Way is concealed by petty virtues,34 and Lan-

guage is concealed by vainglories.35 This is why we have the 'right' -

'wrong' discussions of the Confucians and the Mohists, the one party

regarding as 'right' what the other party regards as 'wrong', and the

one regarding as 'wrong' what the other regards as 'right'.

If we want to affirm (on a higher lev el) what both parties regard as

'wrong', and to deny what they regard as 'right', we have no better

means than 'illumination' .36

Thus we see ourselves brought back again to the problem of 'illumi-

nation'. The passages here quoted have made it already clear that

the 'illumination' represents an 'absolu te' standpoint which tran-

scends all 'relative' standpoints. lt is astate of mind which is above

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Beyond This and That 329

and beyond the distinctions between 'this' and 'that', 'I' and 'you'.

But how can one attain to such a spiritual height, if in fact it really

exists? What is the content and structure of this experience? These

are the main problems that will occupy us in the following two

chapters.

Notes

1. Chuang-tzu, II, p. 93.

2. i.e., there is no' absolutely' proper place; for each being, the place in which it lives

customarily is the right place, but the latter is 'right' only in a relative sense.

3. Two women famous for their supreme beauty.

4. That these concepts, t: jên and 1.-ll i, represented two of the most typical moral

values for Confucius and his school was pointed out in Chap. 1.

5. Tao Tê Ching, XX.

6. By Learning (hsüeh is meant the study of the meticulous rules of conduct and

behavior - concerning, for instance, on what occasions and to whom one should use

the formai and polite expression 'yes, sir' and when and to whom one should use the

informai expression' hum!' - the kind of learning which was so strongly advocated by

the Confucian school under the name of Ceremonies

7. op. cit., II.

8. fi..

9. fl ( lt1) fu( -kuei), lit. 'returning' - 'going-back'.

10. op. cit., XL.

11. Yi)J.

12. op.cit.,LVIII.

13. ibid., XXIX. This part of Chap. XXIX is regarded by Kao Hêng (op. cit.) as an

independent chapter. He remarks in addition that the passage is typical of'Lao-tzu's

relativism' ( p. 69. The last sentence of the passage quoted in its

original form is which may be translated as 'a thing which one wants to

crush (is not crushed), and a thing which one wants to destroy (is not destroyed).' But

in the Ho Shang edition we find • instead (iiUJ:li r•:ti:m, '-ffû:·tlu), which, as Yü

Yüeh (f<( fM remarks, is probably the right reading.

14. The followers of Mo-tzu

15. pien chê nf:1î.

16. ming chia 15K

'Il

1 111111

330 Sufism and Taoism

17. Chuang-tzu, XII, p. 427, quote by Fung Yu Lang, op. cit., 1, p. 192. The reference

is to the famous thesis put forward by the Dialectician Kung Sung Lung

that a 'bard white stone' is in reality two things: a bard stone and a white stone,

because 'bard' and 'white' are two entirely different attributes. The quoted sentence

may also be translated: The distinction between 'bard' and'white' is clearly visible as

if they were hung on the celestial sphere.

18. II, p. 107.

19. means usually 'boundary', 'limit', 'division'. But here 1 follow the

interpretation of Lu Shu Chih (f1Œr*: :X{5l, and

Pan by Lu Tê Ming in who makes it synonymous withJ:;:?i!t.

20.

21. The lexical meaning of this expression is difficult to ascertain. In translating

it as 'without limits' 1 am simply following an old commentator quoted by

in his who sayslli_fü,.ti-tl!J, (p. 109). The same word is used in Bk.

XXVII. And in Bk. XVII it appears in the form ofJ5Unfan yen which obviously is the

same commentator spells itiifü) becanse the passage reads: 'From the point

of view of the Way, what should we consider" precious" and what should we consider

"despicable" ?'

22. Cf. Kuo Hsiang's Commentary (p. 109): *ft§îz.f!Ho!f,

m'fJt.Uf§:iE, and Chia Shih Fu üW.Zft§J.

23. Chuang-tzu, II, p. 108.

24. fjJJ. The term literally means 'bright' or 'luminous'. We may compare it with the

Islamic notion of ma'rifah 'gnosis' as opposed to, and technically distinguished from,

'ilm '(rational) knowledge'.

25. 1, p. 30.

26. The passage is taken from II, p. 66. 1 shall <livide it into a number of smaller

sections and quote them one by one, each followed by a brief examination.

27. by the Dialectician Shih.

28. }J1:_:ifii, more exactly the 'theory of fang shêng fang ssû' held by

Hui Shih, meaning literally: the theory of 'life' giving birth to 'death' and 'death'

giving birth to 'life'. See Chuang-tzu, XXXIII. For this particular meaning of the

word fang ti, see the Shuo Wen rn-. HH'ci-tll.J 'fang means ( originally) two

ships placed side by side with each other'.

29. shêng jên IRA., which is synonymous with 'true man' or 'divine man', i.e., the

Perfect Man. The real meaning of the important word shêng has been elucidated

earlier in its shamanic context; see Chapter II. The expression shêng jen is more often

used by Lao-tzii than by Chuang-tzii.

30. t'ien J:;:, meaning the great Way of Nature, the absolute standpoint of Being

itself, which is, so to speak, a viewpoint transcending ail viewpoints.

31. This is a peculiar expression which Chuang-tzii uses very often when be wants to

deny something emphatically.

.

. '

Beyond This and That 331

32. II, p. 63.

33. See above, Note (31).

34. The 'petty virtues' iHVt:-or more literally, 'small acquirements' -refer to the five

cardinal virtues of the Confucians - Ch' êng Hsüan Ying ( Jïx:.:t!R: IJŒf-ll:UiiJ).

35. i.e., the natural tendency of the human mind toward showing-off, which mani-

fests itself typically in the form of discussions and debates.

36. op. cit., II, p. 63.

Toshihiko Izutsu Sufism And Taoism P2.Ch02 II From Mythopoiesis to Metaphysics

 SUFISM AND TAOISM: A Comparative Study of Key Philosophical Concepts

by Toshihiko Izutsu 1983

First published 1983 by Iwanami Shoten, Publishers, Tokyo
This edition is published by The University of California Press, 1984,
Rev. ed. of: A comparative study of the key philosophical concepts in Sufism and Taoism. 1966-67.

=====

Contents

Preface by T. Izutsu

Introduction

Part II - Lao-Tzii & Chuang-Tzu

I Lao-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu

II From Mythopoiesis to Metaphysics

III Dream and Reality

IV Beyond This and That

V The Birth of a New Ego

VI Against Essentialism

VII The Way

VIII The Gateway of Myriad Wonders

IX Determinism and Freedom

X Absolute Reversai of Values

XI The Perfect Man

XII Homo Politicus

Part III - A Comparative Reftection 

I Methodological Preliminaries

II The Inner Transformation of Man

III The Multistratified Structure of Reality

IV Essence and Existence

V The Self-evolvement of Existence

===

II From Mythopoiesis to Metaphysics

In the preceding chapter I indicated in a preliminary way the possi-

bility of there being a very strong connection between Taoist

philosophy and shamanism. 

I suggested that the thought or world-

view of Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu may perhaps be best studied

against the background of the age-old tradition of the shamanic

spirit in ancient China. 

The present chapter will be devoted to a

more detailed discussion of this problem, namely, the shamanic

background of Taoist philosophy as represented by the Tao Tê

Ching and Chuang-tzü.

In fact, throughout the long history of Chinese thought there runs

what might properly be called a 'shamanic mode of thinking'. We

observe this specific mode of thinking manifesting itself in diverse

forms and on various levels in accordance with the particular cir-

cumstances of time and place, sometimes in a popular, fan tas tic

form, often going to the limit of superstition and obscenity, and

sometimes in an intellectually refined and logically elaborated form.

We observe also that this mode of thinking stands in sharp contrast

to the realistic and rationalistic mode of thinking as represented by

the austere ethical world-view of Confucius and his followers.

Briefly stated, I consider the Taoist world-view of Lao-tzu and

Chuang-tzu as a philosophical elaboration or culmination of this

shamanic mode of thinking; as, in other words, 

a particular form of philosophy which grew out of the persona! existential experience peculiar to persons endowed with the capacity of seeing things on a

supra-sensible plane of consciousness through an ecstatic encounter

with the Absolute and through the archetypal images emerging out

of it.

The Taoist philosophers who produced works like the Tao Tê

Ching and Chuang-tzü were 'shamans' on the one hand, as far as

concerns the experiential basis of their world-vision, 

but they were on the other, intellectual thinkers who, not content to remain on the primitive level of popular shamanism, exercised their intellect in

order to elevate and elaborate their original vision into a system of

metaphysical concepts designed to expIain the very structure of Being.

[301]

Lao-tzu talks about shêng-jên 1 or the 'sacred man'. It is one of the

key-concepts of his philosophical world-view, and as such plays an

exceedingly important rôle in his thought. The 'sacred man' is a man

who has attained to the highest stage of the intuition of the Way, to

the extent of being completely unified with it, and who behaves

accordingly in this world following the dictates of the Way that he

feels active in himself. He is, in brief, a human embodiment of the

Way. In exactly the same sense, Chuang-tzu speaks of chên-jên2 or

the 'true man', chih-jên3 or the 'ultimate man', shên-jên4 or the

'divine (or super-human) man'. The man designated by these vari-

ous words is in reality nothing other than a philosophical shaman, or

a shaman whose visionary intuition of the world has been refined

and elaborated into a philosophical vision of Being.

That the underlying concept has historically a close connection

with shamanism is revealed by the etymological meaning of the

word shêng here translated as 'sacred'. The Shuo Wên Chieh Tzü,

the oldest etymological dictionary ( compiled in 100 A.D.), in its

explanation of the etymological structure of this word states: 'Shêng

designates a man whose orifices of the ears are extraordinarily

receptive' .5 

In other words, the term designates a man, endowed

with an unusually keen ear, who is capable of hearing the voice of a

super-natural being, god or spirit, and understands directly the will

or intention of the latter. In the concrete historical circumstances of

the ancient Yin Dynasty, such a man can be no other than a divine

priest professionally engaged in divination.

It is interesting to remark in this connection that in the Tao Tê

Ching the 'sacred man' is spoken of as the supreme ruler of astate,

or 'king', and that this equation (Saint= King) is made as if it were a

matter of common sense, something to be taken for granted. We

must keep in mind that in the Yin Dynasty6 shamanism was deeply

related to poli tics. In that dynasty, the civil officiais of the higher

ranks who possessed and exercised a tremendous power over the

administration of the state were all originally shamans. And in the

earliest periods of the same dynasty, the Grand Shaman was the

high priest-vizier, or even the king himself.7

This would seem to indicate that behind the 'sacred man' as the

Taoist ideal of the Perfect Man there is hidden the image of a

shaman, and that under the surface of the metaphysical world-view

of Taoism there is perceivable a shamanic cosmology going back to

the most ancient times of Chinese history.

For the immediate purposes of the present study, we do not have to

go into a detailed theoretical discussion of the concept of shaman-

ism.8 We may be content with defining it in a provisional way by

saying that it is a phenomenon in which an inspired seer in a state of

ecstasy communes with supernatural beings, gods or spirits. As is

well known, a man who has a natural capacity of this kind tends to

serve in a primitive society as an intermediary between his tribes-

men and the unseen world. 

As one of the most typical features of the shamanic mentality we

shall consider first of all the phenomenon of mythopoiesis. 

Shamans are by definition men who, in their ecstatic-archetypal visions per-

ceive things which are totally different from what ordinary people

see in their normal states through their sensible experiences, and

this naturally tends to induce the shamans to interpret and structuralize the world itself quite differently from ordinary people. That which characterizes their reality experience in the most remarkable way is that things appear to their 'imaginai' consciousness in symbolic and mythical forms. The world which a shaman sees in the state of trance is a world of 'creative imagination', as Henry Corbin

has aptly named it, however crude it may still be. On this level of

consciousness, the things we perceive around us leave their natural,

common-sense mode of existence and transform themselves into images and symbols. And those images, when they become systematized and ordered according to the patterns of development which are inherent in them, tend to produce a mythical cosmology.

The shamanic tradition in ancient China did produce such a

cosmology. In the Elegies of Ch'u to which reference was made in

the preceding chapter, we can trace almost step by step and in a very

concrete form the actual process by which the shamanic experience

of reality produces a peculiar, 'imaginai' cosmology. And by com-

paring, further, the Elegies ofCh'u with a book like Huai Nan Tzu, 9

we can observe the most intimate relationship that exists between

the shamanic cosmology and Taoist metaphysics. There one seessur

le vif how the mythical world-view represented by the former

develops and is transformed into the ontology of the Way.

Another fact which seems to confirm the existence of a close

relationship, both essential and historical, between the Taoist

metaphysics and the shamanic vision of the world is found in the

history of Taoism after the Warring States period. In fact, the

development of Taoism, after having reached its philosophical

zenith with Lao-tzii and Chuang-tzii, goes on steadily describing a

curve of 'degeneration' - as it is generally called - even under a

strong influence of the Tao Tê Ching and Chuang-tzu, and returns to

its original mythopoeic form, revealing thereby its shamanic basis,

until it reaches in the Later Han Dynasty a stage at which Taoism

becomes almost synonymous with superstition, magic and witch-

craft. The outward structure of Taoist metaphysics itself discloses

almost no palpable trace of its shamanic background, but in the

philosophical description of the tao by Lao-tzii, for instance, there is

undeniably something uncanny and uncouth that would seem to be

indicative of its original connection with shamanism.303

Lao-tzii depicts, as we shall see later in more detail, the Way (tao) as

Something shadowy and dark, prior to the existence of Heaven and

Earth, unknown and unknowable, impenetrable and intangible to

the degree of only being properly described as Non-Being, and yet

pregnant with forms, images and things, which lie latent in the midst

of its primordial obscurity. The metaphysical Way thus depicted has

an interesting counterpart in the popular mythopoeic imagination

as represented by Shan Hai Ching, 10 in which it appears in a fantas-

tic form.

Three hundred and fifty miles further to the West there is a mountain

called Heaven Mountain. The mountain produces much gold and

jade. lt produces also blue sulphide. And the River Ying takes its rise

therefrom and wanders southwestward until it runs into the Valley of

Boiling Water. Now in this mountain there lives a Divine Bird whose

body is like a yellow sack, red as burning tire, who has six legs and

four wings. lt is strangely amorphous, having no face, no eyes, but it is

very good at singing and dancing. In reality, this Bird is no other than

the god Chiang.

In the passage here quoted, two things attract our attention. One is

the fact that the monster-bird is described as being good at singing

and dancing. The relevance of this point to the particular problem

we are now discussing will immediately be understood if one

remembers that 'singing and dancing', i.e., ritual dance, invariably

accompanies the phenomenon of shamanism. Dancing in ancient

China was a powerful means of seeking for the divine Will, of

inducing the state of ecstasy in men, and of 'calling down' spirits

from the invisible world. The above-mentioned dictionary, Shuo

Wên, defines the word wu (shaman) as 'a woman who is naturally fit

for serving the formless (i.e., invisible beings) and who, by means of

dancing call down spirits' .11 It is interesting that the same dictionary

explains the character itself which represents this word, IB , by

saying that it pictures a woman dancing with two long sleeves

hanging down on the right and the left. In the still earlier stage of its

development, 12 it represents the figure of a shaman holding up jade

with two hands in front of a spirit or god.

It is also significant that the monster is'said to be a bird, which is

most probably an indication that the shamanic dancing here in

question was some kind of feather-dance in which the shaman was

ritually ornamented with a feathered headdress.

The second point to be noticed in the above-given passage from

the Shan Hai Ching - and this point is of far greater relevance to the

==

present study than the first - is the particular expression used in the

description of the monster's visage, hun tun, 13 which 1 have provi-

sionally translated above as 'strangely amorphous'. lt means a

chaotic state of things, an amorphous state where nothing is clearly

delineated, nothing is clearly distinguishable, but which is far from

being sheer non-being; it is, on the contrary, an extremely obscure

'presence' in which the existence of something - or some things, still

undifferentiated - is vaguely and dimly sensed.

The relation between this word as used in this passage and

Chuang-tzu's allegory of the divine Emperor Hun Tun has been

noticed long ago by philologists of the Ch'ing dynasty. The com-

mentator of the Shan Hai Ching, Pi Yüan, for instance, explicitly

connects this description of the monster with the featureless face of

the Emperor Hun Tun.

The allegory given by Chuang-tzu reads as follows:' 4

The Emperor of the South Sea was called Shu, the Emperor of the

North Sea was called Hu, 15 and the Emperor of the central domain

was called Hun Tun. 16 Once, Shu and Hu met in the domain of Hun

Tun, who treated both of them very well. Thereupon, Shu and Hu

deliberated together over the way in which they might possibly repay

his goodness.

'All men', they said, 'are possessed of seven orifices for seeing,

hearing, eating, and breathing. But this one (i.e., Hun Tun) alone

does not possess any (orifice). Come, let us bore some for him.'

They went on boring one orifice every day, until on the seventh day

Hun Tun died.

This story describes in symbolic terms the destructive effect exer-

cised by the essentialist type of philosophy on the Reality. lt is a

merciless denunciation of this type of philosophy on behalf of a

peculiar form of existentialist philosophy which, as we shall see

later, Chuang-tzu was eager to uphold. Shu and Hu, symbolizing the

precariousness of human existence, met in the central domain of

Hun Tun; they were very kindly treated and they became happy for

a brief period of time as their names themselves indicate. This event

would seem to symbolize the human intellect stepping into the

domain of the supra-sensible world of 'un-differentiation', the

Absolute, and finding a momentary felicity there - the ecstasy of a

mystical intuition of Being, which, regrettably, lasts but for a short

time. Encouraged by this experience, the human intellect, or

Reason, tries to bore holes in the Absolu te, that is to say, tries to

mark distinctions and bring out to actuality all the forms that have

remained latent in the original undifferentiation. The result of

'boring' is nothing but the philosophy of Names (ming) as rep-

resented by Confucius and his school, an essentialist philosophy,

where all things are clearly marked, delineated, and sharply disting-

From Mythopoiesis to Metaphysics 305 uished from one another ori the ontological level of essences. But the moment orifices were bored in Hun Tun's face, he died. This means that the Absolu te can be brought into the grasp of Reason by 'essential' distinctions being made in the reality of the Absolute, and becomes thereby something understandable; but the moment it becomes understandable to Reason, the Absolute dies. lt is not time yet for us to go into the details of the existentialist position taken by Chuang-tzu. 1 simply wanted to show by this example how closely the shamanic mythopoeic imagination was originally related with the birth of Taoist philosophy, and yet, at the same time, how far removed the latter was in its philosophical import from the former. This sense of distance between shamanism and philosophy may be alleviated to a considerable extent if we place between the two terms of the relation the cosmogonical story - a product of the mythopoeic mentality - which purports to explain how Heaven and Earth came into being. lt is not exactly a 'story'; it is a 'theory' and is meant to be one. lt is a result of a serious attempt to describe and explain theoretically the very origin of the world of Being and the process by which all things in the world have corne to acquire the forms with which we are now familiar. The cosmogony constitutes in this sense the middle term - structurally, if not historically - between the crude shamanic myth and the highly developed metaphysics of the Way. Here we give in translation the cosmogony as formulated in the above-mentioned Huai Nan Tzü: 11 Heaven and Earth had no form yet. lt was astate of formless ftuidity; nothing stable, nothing definite. This state is called the Great Begin- ning. The Great Beginning produced 18 a spotless void. The spotless void produced the Cosmos. The Cosmos produced (the all- pervading) vital energy. 19 The vital energy had in itself distinctions. That which was limpid and light went up hovering in thin layers to form Heaven, while that which was heavy and turbid coagulated and became Earth. The coming together of limpid and fine elements is naturally easy, while the coagulation of heavy and turbid elements is difficult to occur. For this reason, Heaven was the first to be formed, then Earth became established. Heaven and Earth gathered together the finer elements of their vital energy to form the principles of Negative (Yin) and Positive (Yang), and the Negative and Positive gathered together the finer elements of their vital energy to constitute the four seasons. The four seasons scattered their vital energy to bring into being the ten thousand things. The calorie energy of the Positive principle, having been accumulated, gave birth to fire, and the essence of the energy of fire became the sun. The energy of coldness peculiar to the Negative principle, having been accumulated became water, and the essence of

===

the energy of water became the moon. The overflow of the sun and

the moon, having become refined, turned into stars and planets.

Heaven received the sun, moon, stars, and planets. Earth received

water, puddles, dust, and soil.

In the passage her quoted we encounter again that undifferen-

tiated, featureless Something, the primordial Chaos, this time as a

cosmogonie principle or the Great Beginning, representing the state

of affairs before the creation of the world. The Great Beginning is

certainly different from the mythical monster of the Shan Hai Ching

and the metaphysical principle of the Tao Tê Ching. But it is evident

at the same time that these three are but different 'phenomena' of

one and the same thing.

Similarly in a different passage20 in the same book we read:

Long long ago, when Heaven and Earth were still non-existent, there

were no definite figures, no definite forms. Mysteriously profound,

opaque and dark: nothing was distinguishable, nothing was fathom-

able; limitlessly remote, vast and void; nobody would have discerned

its gate.

Then there were born together two divinities, and they began to rule

Heaven and to govern Earth. lnfinitely deep (was Heaven), and no

one knew where it came to a limit. Vastly extensive (was Earth), and

no one knew where it ceased.

Thereupon (Being) divided itself into the Negative and the Positive,

which, then, separated into the eight cardinal directions.

The hard and the soft complemented each other, and as a result the

ten thousand things acquired their definite forms. The gross and

confused elements of the vital energy produced animais (including

beasts, birds, reptiles and fish). The finer vital energy produced man.

This is the reason why the spiritual properly belongs to Heaven, while

the bodily belongs to Earth.

Historically speaking, this and similar cosmogonical theories seem

to have been considerably inflùenced by Taoism and its metaphys-

ics. Structurally, however, they furnish a connecting link between

myth and philosophy, pertaining as they do to both of them and yet

differing from them in spirit and structure. The cosmogony discloses

to our eyes in this sense the mythopoeic background of the

metaphysics of the Way as formulated by Lao-tzii and Chuang-tzii.

In a similar fashion, we can bring to light the subjective - i.e.,

epistemological - aspect of the relationship between shamanism

and Taoist philosophy by comparing the above-mentioned Elegies

of Ch'u and the books of Lao-tzii and Chuang-tzii. The possibility of

obtaining an interesting result from a comparative study of Ch'ü

Yüan, the great shaman-poet of the state of Ch'u, and the

From Mythopoiesis to Metaphysics 307

philosophers of Taoism was noted long ago by Henri Maspero,21

although death prevented him from fully developing his idea.

ln the Li Sao22 and the Yüan Yu, 23 the shaman-poet describes in

detail the process of visionary states through which a soul in an

ecstatic state, helped and assisted by various gods and spirits,

ascends to the heavenly city where the 'etemal beings' live. This is in

reality nothing but a description of a shamanic unio mystica. And

the shamanic ascension is paralleled by a visionary ascension of a

similar structure in the Chuang-tzu, the only essential difference

between the two being that in the latter case the experience of the

spiritual joumey is refined and elaborated into the form of a

metaphysical contemplation. Just as the shaman-poet experiences

in his ecstatic oblivion of the ego a kind of immortality and eternity,

so the Taoist philosopher experiences immortality and 'long life' in

the midst of the etemal Way, by being unified with it. lt is interesting

to notice in this respect that the poet says in the final stage of his

spiritual experience that he 'transcends the Non-Doing,24 reaches

the primordial Purity, and stands side by si de with the Great Begin-

ning' .25 In Taoist terminology, we would say that the poet at this

stage 'stands side by side with the Way', that is, 'is completely

unified with the Way', there being no discrepancy between them.

In the Li Sao the poet does not ascend to such a height. Standing

on the basic assumption that both the Li Sao and Yüan Yu are

authentic works of Ch'ü Yüan, Maspero remarks that the Li Sao

represents an earlier stage in the spiritual development of the poet,

at which he, as a shaman, has not yet attained to the final goal,

whereas the Yüan Yu represents a later stage at which the poet 'has

already reached the extremity of mysticism'.

Such an interpretation is of course untenable if we know for

certain that the Yüan Yu is a work composed by a later poet and

surreptitiously attributed to Ch'ü Yüan. In any case, the poem in its

actual form is markedly Taoistic, and some of the ideas are undeni-

ably borrowings from Lao-tzii and Chuang-tzii. Here again,

however, the problem of authenticity is by no means a matter of

primary importance tous. For even if we admit that the poem - or

some parts of - it is a Han Dynasty forgery, it remains true that the

very fact that Taoist metaphysics could be so naturally transformed

- or brought back - into a shamanic world-vision is itself a proof

of a real congeniality that existed between shamanism and

Taoism.

A detailed analytic comparison between the Elegies of Ch'u and

the books of Lao-tzii and Chuang-tzii is sure to make an extremely

fruitful and rewarding work. But to do so will take us too far afield

beyond the main topic of the present study. Besides, we are going to

describe in detail in the first chapters of this book the philosophical

version of the spiritual journey which has just been mentioned. And

this must suffice us for our present purposes.308 

Let us now leave the problem of the shamanic origin of Taoism,

and turn to the purely philosophical aspects of the latter. Our main

concern will henceforward be exclusively with the actual structure

of Taoist metaphysics and its key-concepts.

Notes

1. IRA.

2. •A·

3. "'!P.A. i.e., a man who has attained to the furthest limit (of perfection).

4. 4if!A. We may note that this and the preceding words ail refer to one and the same

concept which is the Taoist counterpart of the concept of insân kâmil or the Perfect

Man, which we discussed in the first part of this study.

5. J: Miî::E§îJ.

6. Reference has been made in the preceding chapter to the possible historical

connection between the Yin dynasty and the spirit of the state of Ch'u.

7. For more details about the problem of the shaman ( (.JP; wu) representing the

highest administrative power in the non-secularized state in ancient China, see for

example Liang Ch' i Ch' ao: A History of Political Thought in the Periods Prior to the

Ch'in Dynasty 1923, Shanghai, Ch. II.

8. 1 would refer the reader to Mircea Eliade's basic work: Shamanism, Archaic

Techniques of Ecstasy, English tr., London, 1964.

9. lrltlîîTJ, an eclectic work compiled by thinkers of various schools who were

gathered by the king of Huai Nan, Liu An j!J'i(, at his court, in the second century B.C.

The book is of an eclectic nature, but its basic thought is that of the Taoist school.

1 O. one of the most important source-books for Chinese mythology, giving

a detailed description of ail kinds of mythological monsters living in mountains and

seas. The following quotation is taken from a new edition of the book,

(11$.li-*iUl), with a commentary by Pi Yüan of the Ch'ing dynasty,

Tai Pei, 1945, p. 57.

11.

12. The character it appears in the oracle-bones is: fR or /ti.

13. Plfi(. The word is written in the Chuang-tzu iaiflti.

14. Chapter VII entitled 'Fit to be Emperors and Kings', p. 309.

15. Bo th shu ( fl) and hu ( %!. ) lite rail y mean a brief span of time, symbolizing in this

allegory the precariousness of existence.

309

16. Important to note is the fact that hun tun, the' undifferentiation' is placed in the

center. It means that hun tun represents the true 'reality' of Being, bordering on both

sides on 'precariousness'. The philosophical implication of all this will be elucidated

in a later chapter.

17. lf'ltiîîî-J, III, T'ien Wên ::RXlllil.

18. The received text as it stands is apparently unintelligible. Following the emenda-

tion suggested by Wang Yin Chih ( 3:%Z) 1 read: l;J&B:kAHifH!f1Tf!IJri· ..... 1.

19. The' all-pervading vital energy' is a clumsy translation of the Chinese word ch'i

which plays an exceedingly important rôle in the history of Chinese thought. lt is a

'reality', proto-material and formless, which cannot be grasped by the senses. It is a

kind of vital force, a creative principle of ail things; it pervades the whole world, and

being immanent in everything, molds it and makes it grow into what it really is.

Everything that has a 'form', whether animate or inanimate, has a share in the ch'i.

The concept of ch'i has been studied by many scholars. As one of the most detailed

analytic studies of it we may mention Teikichi Hiraoka: A Study of Ch'i in Huai Nan

Tzu,Zf'IMJmii Tokyo 1969.

20. ibid., VII, mij]lj!itfll.

21. ibid., III.

22.

23. l:&i!J. Many scholars entertain serious doubts-with reason, 1 think - as to the

authenticity of this important and interesting work. Most probably it is a product of

the Han Dynasty (see #Jillflm nUU1îtt3l<litJ), composed in the very atmosphere of

a, fully developed philosophy of Taoism.

24. wu-wei one of the key-terms of Taoist philosophy, which we shall analyze

in a la ter passage. 'Non-Doing' means, in short, man's abandoning ail artificial,

unnatural effort to do something, and identifying himself completely with the activity

of Nature which is nothing other than the spontaneous self-manifestation of the Way

itself. Here the poet daims that at the final stage of his spiritual development he goes

even beyond the level of 'non-activity' and of being one with Nature, and steps

further into the very core of the Way. In his consciousness - or in his 'non-

consciousness', we should rather say

Toshihiko Izutsu Sufism And Taoism P2.Ch01 I Lao-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu

 SUFISM AND TAOISM: A Comparative Study of Key Philosophical Concepts

by Toshihiko Izutsu 1983

First published 1983 by Iwanami Shoten, Publishers, Tokyo
This edition is published by The University of California Press, 1984,
Rev. ed. of: A comparative study of the key philosophical concepts in Sufism and Taoism. 1966-67.

=====

Contents

Preface by T. Izutsu

Introduction

Part I - Ibn 'Arabi

1 Dream and Reality

II The Absolute in its Absoluteness

III The Self-knowledge of Man

IV Metaphysical Unification and Phenomenal Dispersion

V Metaphysical Perplexity

VI The Shadow of the Absolute

VII The Divine Nam es

VIII Allah and the Lord

IX Ontological Mercy

X The Water of Life

XI The Self-manifestation of the Absolute

XII Permanent Archetypes

XIII Creation

XIV Man as Microcosm

XV The Perfect Man as an Individual

XVI Apostle, Prophet, and Saint

XVII The Magical Power of the Perfect Man

Part II - Lao-Tzii & Chuang-Tzu

I Lao-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu

II From Mythopoiesis to Metaphysics

III Dream and Reality

IV Beyond This and That

V The Birth of a New Ego

VI Against Essentialism

VII The Way

VIII The Gateway of Myriad Wonders

IX Determinism and Freedom

X Absolute Reversai of Values

XI The Perfect Man

XII Homo Politicus

Part III - A Comparative Reflection 

I Methodological Preliminaries

II The Inner Transformation of Man

III The Multistratified Structure of Reality

IV Essence and Existence

V The Self-evolvement of Existence

===

Ch 1. Lao-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu

The book called Tao Tê Ching is now world-famous, and is being

widely read in the West in various translations as one of the most

important basic texts of Oriental Wisdom. It is generally - or

popularly, we should say - thought to be a philosophico-mystical

treatise written by an ancient Chinese sage called Lao-tzu, a senior

contemporary of Confucius. In more scholarly circles no one today

takes such a view.

In fact, since the Ch'ing Dynasty when the question of the author-

ship of the book was first raised in China, 1 it has been discussed by so

many people, it has provoked such an animated controversy not

only in China but in Japan, and even in the West, and so divergent

are the hypotheses which have been put forward, that we are left in

utter darkness as to whether the Tao Tê Ching is a work of an

individual thinker, or even whether a man called Lao-tzu ever

existed in reality. We are no longer in a position to assign a proper

chronological place to the book with full confidence.

For our particular purposes, the problem of authorship and the

authenticity of the work is merely of peripheral importance.

Whether or not there once existed as a historical person a sage

called Lao-tzu in the state of Ch'u, who lived more than one

hundred and sixty years,2 whether or not this sage really wrote the

Tao Tê Ching - these and similar questions, whether answered

affirmatively or negatively, do not affect at all the main contention

of the present work. What is of fondamental importance is the fact

that the thought is there, and that it has a very peculiar inner

structure which, if analyzed and understood in a proper way, will

provide an exceedingly interesting Chinese counterpart to the

'Unity of Existence' (walJ,dah al-wujüd) type of philosophy as rep-

resented by Ibn' Arabï in Islam. ·

Lao-tzu is a legendary, or at the very most, semi-legendary figure, of

whom it is an obvious understatement to say that nothing certain is

known tous. For, even on the assumption that there is an historical

core in his so-called biography, we must admit that the popular

imagination has woven round it such a fantastic tapestry of imposs-

ible events and unbelievable incidents that no one can ever hope to

disentangle the intricate web of legends, myths and focts.[288]

Even the most sober and most dependable of all Chinese his-

torians in ancient times, and the earliest to attempt a description of

Lao-tzu's life and adventures in his Book of History, 3 Ssu Ma Ch'ien

of the Han Dynasty (the beginning of the lst century B.C.), had to

be content with giving a very inconsistent and unsystematic narrative made up of a number of staries stemming from heterogeneous origins.

According to one of those legends, Lao-tzu was a native of the

state of Ch'u.4 He was an official of the royal Treasury of Chou,

when Confucius came to visit him. After the interview, Confucius is

related to have made the following remark to his disciples about

Lao-tzu. 'Birds fly, fishes swim, and animals run -this much 1 know

for certain. Moreover, the runner can be snared, the swimmer can

be hooked, and the flyer can be shot down by the arrow. But what

can we do with a dragon? We cannot even see how he mounts on

winds and clouds and rises to heaven. That Lao-tzu whom 1 met

to-day may probably be compared only to a dragon!'

The story makes Lao-tzu a senior contemporary of Confucius

(551-479 B.C.). This would naturally mean that Lao-tzu was a man

who lived in the 6th century B.C., which cannot possibly be a

historical fact.

Many arguments have been brought forward against the histori-

city of the narrative which we have just quoted. One of them is of

particular importance to us; it is concerned with examining this and

similar narratives philologically and in terms of the historical

development of philosophical thinking in ancient China. 

I shall give

here a typical example of this kind of philological argument.

Sokichi Tsuda in his well-known work, The Thought of the Taoist

School and its Development,5 subjects to a careful philological

examination the peculiar usage of some of the key technical terms in

the Tao Tê Ching, and arrives at the conclusion that the book must

be a product of a period after Mencius (372-289 B.C.). 

This would

imply of course that Lao-tzu - supposing that he did exist as a

historical person - was a man who came after Mencius.

Tsuda chooses as the yardstick of his judgment the expression

jen-i which is found in Chap. XVIII of the Tao Tê Ching,6 and which

is a compound of two words jen and i. These two words, jen

{'humaneness' with particular emphasis on 'benevolence') and i

('righteousness'), properly speaking, do not belong to the vocabul-

ary of Lao-tzu; they are key-terms of Confucianism. As represent-

ing two of the most basic human virtues, they play an exceedingly

important rôle in the ethical thought of Confucius himself.[289] 

But in the mouth of Confucius, they-remain two independent words; they

are not compounded into a semantic unit in the form of jen-i

corresponding almost to a single complex concept. The latter

phenomenon is observed only in post-Confucian times.

Tsuda points out that the thinker who first emphasized the con-

cept of jen-i is Mencius. This fact, together with the fact that in the

above-mentioned passage Lao-tzu uses the terms jen and i in this

compound form, would seem to suggest that the Tao Tê Ching, is a

product of a period in which the Confucian key-term jen-i has

already been firmly established, for the passage in question is most

evidently intended to be a conscious criticism of Confucian ethics.

Lao-tzu, in other words, could use the expression with such an

intention only because he had before his eyes Mencius and his

ethical theory.

Moreover, Tsuda goes on to remark, Mencius vehemently attacks

and denounces everything incompatible with Confucianism, but

nowhere does he show any conscious endeavour to criticize Lao-tzu

or Tao Tê Ching in spite of the fact that the teaching of the latter is

diametrically opposed to his own doctrine; he does not even men-

tion the name Lao-Tzü. This is irrefutable evidence for the thesis

that the Tao Tê Ching belongs to a period posterior to Mencius.

Since, on the other hand, its doctrines are explicitly criticized by

Hsün-tzü ( c. 315-236 B.C.), it cannot be posterior to the latter.

Thus, in conclusion, Tsuda assigns to the Tao Tê Ching a period

between Mencius and Hsün-tzu.

Although there are some problematic points in Tsuda's argument, he is, I think, on the whole right. In fact, there are a number of passages in the Tao Tê Ching which cannot be properly understood unless we place them against the background of a Confucian philosophy standing already on a very firm basis. 

And this, indeed, is the crux of the whole problem, 

at least for those to whom the thought itself of Lao-tzu is the major concern. 

The very famous opening lines of the Tao Tê Ching, for instance, 

in which the real Way and the real Name are mentioned in sharp contrast to an

ordinary 'way' and ordinary 'names' ,7 do not yield their true meaning except when we realize that 

what is meant by this ordinary 'way' is nothing but the proper ethical way of living as understood and taught by the school of Confucius, and that what is referred to by these ordinary 'names' are but the Confucian 'names', i.e., the highest ethical categories stabilized by means of definite 'names', i.e., key-terms.

The Tao Tê Ching contains, furthermore, a number of words and

phrases that are - seemingly at least - derived from various other

sources, like Mo-tzu, Yang Chu, Shang Yang, and even Chuang-

tzu, Shên Tao, and others.[290]  

And there are some scholars who, basing themselves on this observation, 

go farther than Tsuda and assert that the Tao Tê Ching belongs to a period after Chuang-tzu and Shên Tao. 

 Yang Jung Kuo, a contemporary scholar of Peking, to give one example, takes such a position in his History of Thought in Ancient China. 8

Some of these alleged 'references' to thinkers who have traditionally been considered later than Lao-tzu may very well be explained as due to the influence exercised by the Tao Tê Ching itself upon those thinkers who, in writing their books, may have 'borrowed' ideas and expressions from this book. 

Besides, we have to remember that the text of this book as we have it to-day has

evidently passed through a repeated process of editing, re-editing,

and re-arranging in the Han Dynasty. Many of the 'references' may

simply be later additions and interpolations.

Be this as it may, it has to be admitted that the Tao Tê Ching is a controversial work. And at least it is definitely certain that the formation of its thought presupposes the existence of the Confucian school of thought.

Turning now to another aspect of Lao-tzu, which is more important

for the purposes of the present work than chronology, we may begin

by observing that the Biography of Lao-tzu as given by Ssu Ma

Ch'ien in his Book of History makes Lao-tzu a man of Ch'u. 9 Thus

he writes in one passage, 'Lao-tzu was a native of the village Ch'ü

Jên, in Li Hsiang, in the province of K'u, in the state of Ch'u'. In

another passage he states that according to a different tradition,

there was a man called Lao Lai Tzu in the time of Confucius; that he

was a man of Ch'u, and produced fifteen books in which he talked

about the Way. Ssu Ma Ch'ien adds that this man may have been the

same as Lao-tzu.

All this may very well be a mere legend. And yet it is, in my view,

highly significant that the 'legend' connects the author of the Tao Tê

Ching with the state of Ch'u. This connection of Lao-tzu with the

southern state of Ch'u cannot be a mere coïncidence. For there is

something of the spirit of Ch'u running through the entire book. By

the 'spirit of Ch'u' 1 mean what may properly be called the shamanic

tendency of the mind or shamanic mode of thinking. Ch'u was a

large state lying on the southern periphery of the civilized Middle

Kingdom, a land of wild marches, rivers, forests and mountains, rich

in terms of nature but poor in terms of culture, inhabited by many

people of a non-Chinese origin with variegated, strange customs.

There all kinds of superstitious beliefs in supernatural beings and

spirits were rampant, and shamanic practices thrived. [291]

But this apparently primitive and 'uncivilized' atmosphere could

provide an ideal fostering ground for an extraordinary visionary

power of poetic imagination, as amply attested by the elegies writ-

ten by the greatest shaman-poet the state of Ch'u has ever pro-

duced, Ch'ü Yüan. 10 The same atmosphere could also produce a

very peculiar kind of metaphysical thinking. This is very probable

becausè the shamanic experience of reality is of such a nature that it

can be refined and elaborated into a high level of metaphysical

experience. In any case, the metaphysical depth of Lao-tzu's

thought can, 1 believe, be accounted for to a great extent by relating

it to the shamanic mentality of the ancient Chinese which can be

traced back to the oldest historie times and even beyond, and which

has flourished particularly in the southern part of China throughout

the long history of Chinese culture.

In this respect Henri Maspero11 is,1 think, basically right when he

takes exception to the traditional view that Taoism abruptly started

in the beginning of the fourth century B.C. as a mystical metaphys-

ics with Lao-tzu, was very much developed philosophically by 

Chuang-tzu toward the end of that century and vulgarized to a

considerable degree by Lieh-tzu and thenceforward went on the

way of corruption and degeneration until in the Later Han Dynasty

it was completely transformed into a jumble of superstition, anim-

ism, magic and sorcery. Against such a view, Maspero takes the

position that Taoism was a 'personal' religion - as contrasted with

the agricultural communal type of State religion which has nothing

to do with persona! salvation - going back to immemorial antiquity.

The school of Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu, he main tains, was a particu-

lar branch or se.ction within this wide religious movement, a particu-

lar branch characterized by a marked mystical-philosophical ten-

dency.

These observations would seem to lead us back once again to the

problem of the authorship of Tao Tê Ching and the historicity of

Lao-tzu. Is it at all imaginable that such a metaphysical refinement

of crude mysticism should have been achieved as a result of a

process of natural development, without active participation of

an individual thinker endowed with an unusual philosophical

genius? 1 do not think so. Primitive shamanism in ancient China

would have remained in its original crudity as a phenomenon of

popular religion characterized by ecstatic orgy and frantic 'posses-

sion', if it were not for a tremendous work of elaboration done in the

course of its history by men of unusual genius. Thus, in order to

produce the Elegies of Ch'u the primitive shamanic vision of the

world had to pass through the mind of a Ch'ü Yüan. Likewise, the

same shamanic world-vision could be elevated into the profound

metaphysics of the Way only by an individual philosophical genius.

292 

When we read the Tao Tê Ching with the preceding observation

in mind, we cannot but feel the breath, so to speak, of an extraordi-

nary man pervading the whole volume, the spirit of an unusual

philosopher pulsating throughout the book. With all the possible

later additions and interpolations, which I readily admit, I cannot

agree with the view that the Tao Tê Ching is a work of compilation

consisting of fragments of thought taken from various heterogene-

ous sources. For there is a certain fondamental unity which strikes

us everywhere in the book. And the unity is a persona! one. In fact,

the Tao Tê Ching as a whole is a unique piece of work distinctly

colored by the personality of one unusual man, a shaman-

philosopher. Does he not give us a self-portrait in part XX of the

book?

The multitude of men are blithe and cheerful as though they were

invited to a luxurious banquet, or as though they were going up a high

tower to enjoy the spring scenery.

1 alone remain silent and still, showing no sign of activity. Like a

new-born baby 1 am, that has not yet learnt to smile. Forlorn and

aimless 1 look, as if 1 had no place to return.

All men have more than enough. I alone seem to be vacant and blank.

Mine indeed is the mind of a stupid man! Dull and confused it is! The

vulgar people are all clever and bright, I alone am dark and obtuse.

The vulgar people are all quick and alert, I alone am blunt and tardy.

Like a deep ocean that undulates constantly 1 am, like a wind that

blows never to rest.

All others have some work to do, while 1 alone remain impractical I

and boorish. 1 alone am different from all others because 1 value

being f ed by the Mother .12

Similarly in another passage (LXVII), he says of himself:

Everybody under Heaven says that 11 3 am big, but look stupid. Yea, I

look stupid because I am big. If I were clever 1 would have diminished

long ago.

And again in LXX, we read:

My words are very easy to understand and very easy to practise. Yet

no one under Heaven understands them; no one puts them into ·

practice.

My words come out of a profound source, and my actions come out of

a high principle. But people do not understand it. Therefore they do

not understand me.

Those who understand me are rare. That precisely is the proof that 1

am precious. The sage, indeed, wears clothes of coarse cloth, but

carries within precious jade.  

The passages just quoted give a picture of a very original mind, an

image of a man who looks gloomy, stupid and clumsy, standing

aloof from the 'clever' people who spend their time in the petty

pleasures of life. He takes such an attitude because he is conscious

of himself as utterly different from ordinary men. The important

question we have to raise about this is: Whence does this difference

come? The Tao Tê Ching itself and the Chuang-tzu seem to give a

definite answer to this question. The man feels himself different

from others because he is conscious that he alone knows the real

meaning of existence. And this he knows due to his metaphysical

insight which is based on what Chuang-tzu calls tso wang 'sitting in

oblivion', that is, the experience of ecstatic union with the Absolute,

the Way. The man who stands behind the utterances which we have

quoted above is a philosopher-mystic, or a visionary shaman turned

into a philosopher.

It is highly significant for our specific purpose to note that the

spirit of a philosophically developed shamanism pervades the whole

of the Tao Tê Ching. It is, so to speak, a living persona! 'center'

round which are co-ordinated all the basic ideas that we find in the

book, whether the thought concerns the metaphysical structure of

the universe, the nature of man, the art of governing people, or the

practical ideal of life. And such an organic unity cannot be

explained except on the assumption that the book, far from being a

compilation made of fragmentary and disparate pieces of thought

picked up at random from here and there, is in the main the work of

a single author.

In studying a book like the Tao Tê Ching it is more important than

anything else to grasp this persona! unity underlying it as a whole,

and to pinpoint it as the center of co-ordination for all its basic ideas.

For, otherwise, we would not be in a position to penetrate the subtle

structure of the symbolism of the Tao Tê Ching and analyze with

precision the basic ideas of its metaphysics.

Turning from Lao-tzu to Chuang-tzu, we feel ourselves standing on

a far more solid ground. For, although we are no better informed

about his real life and identity, at least we know that we are dealing

with an historical person, who did exist in about the middle of the

fourth century B.C., as a contemporary of Mencius, the great

shaman-poet Ch'ü Yüan of Ch'u to whom reference has been made,

and the brilliant dialectician Hui Shih or Hui-tzu14 with whom he

himself was a good match in the mastery of the art of manipulating

logical concepts.

According to the account given by Ssu Ma Ch'ien in the above-

mentioned Book of History, Chuang-tzu or Chuang Chou15 was a

native of Mêng; 16 he was once an official.at Ch'i-Yüan in Mêng; he

had tremendous erudition, but his doctrine was essentially based on

the teachings of Lao-tzu; and his writing, which counted more than

100,000 words, was for the most part symbolic or allegorical.

It is significant that Mêng, which is mentioned by Ssu Ma Ch'ien

as Chuang-tzu's birthplace, is in present-day Ho Nan and was a

place in the ancient state of Sung.17 1 regard this as significant

because Sung was a country where the descendants of the ancient

Yin 18 people were allowed to live after having been conquered by

the Chou people. 19 There these descendants of the once-illustrious

people, despised by the conquerors as the 'conquered' and con-

stantly threatened and invaded by their neighbors, succeeded in

preserving the religious beliefs and legends of their ancestors. The

significance of this fact with regard to the thesis of the present study

will at once be realized if one but remembers the animistic-

shamanic spirit of Yin culture as manifested in its sacrificial cere-

monies and rites of divination as well as in the myths connected with

this dynasty. The people of Yin were traditionally famous for their

cuit of spirits and worship of the 'God-above'. From of old the

distinction between Yin and Chou was made by such a dictum as:

'Yin worships spirits while Chou places the highest value on human

culture.' 20

Quite independently of the observation of this historical relation

between the Yin Dynasty and the Sung people, Fung Yu Lang in his

History of Chinese Philosophy 21 points out - quite rightly, to my

mind - that the form of Chuang-tzu's thought is close to that of the

Ch'u people. 'We should keep in mind', he writes, 'the fact that the

state of Sung bordered Ch'u, making it quite possible that Chuang-

tzu was influenced on the one hand by Ch'u, and at the same time

was under the influence of the ideas of the Dialecticians. (Hui Shih,

it will be remembered, was a native of Sung.) Thus by using the

dialectics of the latter, he was able to put his soaring thoughts into

order, and formulate a unified philosophical system.'

Of the 'spirit of Ch'u' we have talked in an earlier passage in

connection with the basic structure of Lao-tzu's thought. Fung Yu

Lang compares the Elegies of Ch'u (Ch'u Tz'u) 22 with the Chuang-

tzu and observes a remarkable resemblance between the two in the

display of 'a richness of imagination and freeness of spirit'. But he

neglects to trace this resemblance down to its shamanic origin, so

that the 'richness of imagination and freeness of spirit' is left unex-

plained. However it may be, we shall refrain from going any further

into the details of this problem at this point, for much more will be

said in the following chapter.

The problem of the relationship between Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu

has been discussed at length by philologists. As we have already

observed the major doctrines of Chuang-tzu have traditionally been

regarded as being based upon the teachings of Lao-tzu. On this

view, Lao-tzu of course was a predecessor of Chuang-tzu in Taoist

philosophy; the main lines of thought had been laid down by the

former, and the latter simply took them over from him and

developed them in his own way into a grand-scale allegorical system

according to the dicta tes of his philosophical and literary ability.

This view seems to be a natural conclusion drawn from the observa-

tion of the following two facts: ( 1) the existence of an undeniable

inner connection between the two in the very structure of their

world-view and their mystical way of thinking; (2) Chuang-tzu

himself often mentioning Lao-tzu as one of the earlier Taoist sages,

and the expressions used being in some places almost the same.

The matter, however, is notas simple as it looks at the first glance.

In fact serious questions have been raised in modern times about

this problem. The Tao Tê Ching itself, to begin with, is nowhere

referred to in the Chuang-tzu, although Lao-tzu, as a legendary

figure, appears in its pages, and his ideas are mentioned. But this

latter fact proves almost nothing conclusively, for we know that

many of the persons who are made to play important rôles in the

Chuang-tzu are simply fictitious. Similarities in language may easily

be explained away as the result either of later interpolations in the

Tao Të Ching itself, or as going back to common sources.

Yang Jung Kuo, to whom reference has been made earlier, may

be mentioned as a representative present-day scholar who not only

doubts Lao-tzu's having been a predecessor of Chuang-tzu, but

goes a step further and completely reverses the chronological order.

In an interesting chapter of his above-mentioned book, History of

Thought in Ancient China,23 he decidedly takes the position that

Chuang-tzu was nota disciple of Lao-tzu; that, on the contrary, the

latter - or, to be more exact, the Tao Të Ching - was nothing other

than a continuation and further development of the Chuang-tzü.

And the way he defends his position is strictly philological; he tries

to prove his position through an examination of some of the key-

concepts common to Lao-tzu and Chuang-tzu. And he concludes

that the Tao Tê Ching presupposes the prior existence of the

Chuang-tzü. For instance, the most important of ail key-concepts of

Taoism, tao (Wag) as the cosmic principle of natural growth, or

Nature, is in the Chuang-tzü not yet fully developed in its inner

structure. The concept is already there, he says, but it is as yet a

mere beginning. The Tao Tê Ching takes over this concept at this

precise point and elaborates it into an absolute principle, the abso-

lutely unknowable Source, which is pre-eternal24 and from which

emanate all things. 25 And Yang Jung Kuo thinks that this historical

relation between the two - Chuang-tzü being the initial point and

Lao-tzu representing the culmination - is observable throughout

the whole structure of Taoist philosophy.

This argument, highly interesting though it is, is not conclusive.

For the key-concepts in question allow of an equally justifiable

explanation in terms of a process of development running from

Lao-tzu to Chuang-tzu. As regards the metaphysics of tao, for

instance, we have to keep in mind that Lao-tzu gives only the

result, a definitely established monistic system of archetypal ima-

gery whose center is constituted by the absolu te Absolute, tao, which

develops stage after stage by its own 'natural' creative activity down

to the world of multiplicity. This ontology, as I have pointed out

before, is understandable only on the assumption that it stands on

the basis of an ecstatic or mystical experience of Existence. Lao-tzu,

however, does not disclose this experiential aspect of bis world-view

except through vague, symbolic hints and suggestions. This is the

reason why the Tao Tê Ching tends to produce an impression of

being a philosophical elaboration of something which precedes it.

That 'something which precedes it', however, may not necessarily

be something taken over from others.

Chuang-tzu, on the other band, is interested precisely in this

experiential aspect of Taoist mysticism which Lao-tzu leaves

untouched. He is not mainly concerned with constructing a

metaphysics of a cosmic scale ranging from the ultimate Unknow-

able down to the concrete world of variegated colors and forms. His

chief concern is with the peculiar kind of' experience' itself by which

one penetrates the mystery of Existence. He tries to depict in detail,

sometimes allegorically, sometimes theoretically, the very

psychological or spiritual process through which one becomes more

and more 'illumined' and goes on approaching the real structure of

reality hidden behind the veil of sensible experience.

His attitude is, in comparison with Lao-tzu, epistemological,

rather than metaphysical. And this difference separates these two

thinkers most fundamentally, although they share a common inter-

est in the practical effects that corne out of the supra-sensible

experience of the Way. The same difference may also be formulated

in terms of upward movement and downward movement. Lao-tzu

tries to describe metaphysically how the absolute Absolute

develops naturally into One, and how the One develops into Two,

and the Two into Three, and the Three into 'ten thousand things' .26

It is mainly a description of an ontological - or emanational -

movement downward, though he emphasizes also the importance of

the concept of Return, i.e., the returning process of all things back

to their origin. Chuang-tzu is interested in describing epistemologi-

cally the rising movement of the human mind from the world of

multiplicity and diversity up to the ontological plane where all

distinctions become merged into One.

Because of this particular emphasis on the epistemological aspect

of the experience of the tao, Chuang-tzu does not take the trouble of

developing the concept itself of tao as a philosophical system. 

This is

why bis metaphysics of tao appears imperf ect, or imperfectly

developed. This, however, does not necessarily mean that he rep-

resents chronologically an earlier stage than Lao-tzu. For, as we

have just seen, the difference between them may very well be only

the difference of emphasis.