Taken from Tricycle Article - Winter 2008 
DAISAKU IKEDA is President of the Soka Gakkai  International, the world’s largest Buddhist lay group and America’s most  diverse. In a rare interview, Ikeda speaks to contributing editor 
Clark Strand about his organization’s remarkable history, its oft-misunderstood practice, and what its members are really chanting for.
|  | 
| Disaku Ikeda - President of SGI. Teacher, Poet. | 
  
From Hollywood celebrities to renowned jazz musicians to everyday practitioners around the world, Soka Gakkai Buddhists are best known for their familiar chant, 
Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. What they are chanting is the Japanese title of the 
Lotus Sutra, which posits that all of us—without exception—can attain enlightenment through faith in its teachings.
The Soka Gakkai (Value Creation Society) was founded in 1930 by Tsunesaburo Makiguchi [1871–1944], a Japanese educator whose theories were strongly influenced by the teachings of Nichiren, a 13th-century Buddhist priest who sought to reform Japanese society by bringing its leadership in line with the 
Lotus Sutra’s teachings. Makiguchi was arrested under the Peace Preservation Act in 1943 by the Japanese government for refusing to consolidate with other Buddhist sects under the banner of State Shinto, effectively challenging the authority of the military government. He died in prison a year later. After the war his disciple Josei Toda [1900–1958] turned the Soka Gakkai into a national phenomenon, increasing its membership dramatically and establishing it as a grassroots social movement that championed peace and the rights of ordinary people. At Toda’s death in 1958, the task of spreading the Soka Gakkai’s Nichiren Buddhist teachings to the international community fell to Toda’s disciple Daisaku Ikeda [b. 1928], who founded the Soka Gakkai International (SGI) on the island of Guam in 1975.
With 12 million members in 192 countries, SGI is the world’s largest Buddhist lay group and the largest, most ethnically diverse Buddhist school in America, where its members gather in 2,600 neighborhood discussion groups and nearly 100 community centers nationwide.
Among Western convert Buddhists, there has always been a sharp division between members of SGI and meditation-oriented students of traditions like Zen, Vipassana, and Vajrayana. Students of the meditation approaches tend to know little, if anything, of SGI. So what is the practice of SGI? What are its teachings, and how do they account for its rapid spread to so many different cultures around the world?
This interview with SGI President Daisaku Ikeda, the first granted to any American magazine, was conducted this summer via email by 
Tricycle contributing editor Clark Strand and translated by Andrew Gebert. It is the culmination of a two-year-long conversation with SGI’s top leadership on the future of Buddhism as it relates to interreligious dialogue and issues of pressing global concern.
Most  Americans know little about Nichiren Buddhism, except that its followers  chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, the title of the Lotus Sutra. Could you help  our readers to understand the role of this core practice in Nichiren  Buddhism? Nichiren used the following analogy to explain the 
daimoku,  or “Great Title,” and how it works: “When a caged bird sings, birds who  are flying in the sky are thereby summoned and gather around, and when  the birds flying in the sky gather around, the bird in the cage strives  to get out. When with our mouths we chant the Mystic Law, our  Buddha-nature, being summoned, will invariably emerge.”
To chant 
Nam-myoho-renge-kyo  is to call out the name of the Buddha-nature within us and in all  living beings. It is an act of faith in this universal Buddhanature, an  act of breaking through the fundamental darkness of life—our inability  to acknowledge our true enlightened nature. It is this fundamental  darkness, or ignorance, that causes us to experience the cycles of birth  and death as suffering. When we call forth and base ourselves on the  magnificent enlightened life that exists within each of us without  exception, however, even the most fundamental, inescapable sufferings of  life and death need not be experienced as pain. Rather, they can be  transformed into a life embodying the virtues of eternity, joy, true  self, and purity.
On its surface, this seems just like  the other singlepractice teachings that came out of Kamakura Japan— like  Dogen’s practice of just sitting or Honen’s chanting of the nembutsu. As you note, there are apparent similarities between these practices and Nichiren’s practice of chanting the title of the 
Lotus Sutra.  These can, I believe, be attributed to a shared response, conscious or  unconscious, to the particular conditions and challenges of the Kamakura  era, a conflict-torn age when Japan was transitioning to a  samurai-centered political system.
The Zen practice of just sitting is representative of the kind of 
jiriki,  or “self-power,” practice that makes no appeal to any kind of absolute  truth or being beyond oneself. On the other hand, the chanting of 
nembutsu, relying on and seeking salvation in Amida Buddha, is representative of the 
tariki, or “otherpower,” approach. Drawing upon the teachings of the 
Lotus Sutra,  Nichiren declared that it was wiser to avoid leaning too much on either  the self-power or the other-power approach. Nichiren’s practice of  chanting 
Nam-myoho-renge-kyo leads us to discover a power and  wisdom that exists within us and at the same time transcends us. It  embraces aspects of both the self- and other-power practices.
In a sense, then, you seem to suggest that it represents the best of both worlds.  Yes, and because Nichiren’s approach is both so accessible and so  practical, it enables ordinary people to cultivate the vast sources of  energy and wisdom they already possess within. It empowers us to live  courageously and victoriously amidst the terrible realities of this era  of conflict and strife. As such I am confident that it can play a vital  role in illuminating the path forward for humanity.
Nichiren  Buddhists chant the daimoku to get what they want—a successful career,  better health, a good marriage, even world peace. Nevertheless, from a  purely traditional point of view, it would seem a violation of basic  Buddhist doctrine to chant for the satisfaction of earthly desires  rather than striving to overcome them. Isn’t this a contradiction?  If you think that the purpose of religion is happiness, there really is  no contradiction. The ideal of Mahayana Buddhism is the realization of  happiness for oneself and for others. Nowhere is this more completely  set out than in the 
Lotus Sutra, which recognizes the  Buddha-nature in all people—women and men, those with formal education  and those without. It declares that all people, without regard to their  class, origin, personal, cultural, or social background, can attain  enlightenment. Our recitation of the title of the 
Lotus Sutra is a way of renewing our vow to live in accord with this ideal.
Even  so, the Buddhist tradition—even the Mahayana tradition—has tended to  focus on a monastic approach to enlightenment. Do you see in the Lotus  Sutra the suggestion of some kind of populist reform? The 
Lotus Sutra  does not deny the validity of monastic practice, of people dedicating  themselves to their practice in a setting conducive to overcoming  deluded impulses and attaining a peaceful state of mind. The problem  arises when the practice comes to be seen as an end in itself, rather  than a means of entering into the path of wisdom. Nichiren was the first  to make the attainment of wisdom through faith a possibility for all  people. By following his teachings, it becomes possible to use every  occurrence in life—pleasant or painful—as an opportunity for the further  development of our innate wisdom. When Nichiren declares that earthly  desires lead to enlightenment, he is describing a process by which even  ordinary people living in the midst of deluded impulses and earthly  desires can manifest their highest wisdom.
I still think a  lot of non-Nichiren Buddhists will have a hard time understanding how  chanting for earthly desires leads to enlightenment. Well, to  begin with, I think it is important for all Buddhists—even members of  the SGI—to understand that Nam-myoho-renge-kyo is not some kind of magic  formula to be recited to fulfill desires. It is a practice that  expresses our faith in the truth and brings our lives into rhythm with  that truth. It is a path for overcoming the so-called lesser self that  is attached to desires and tormented by deluded impulses. It is a  process of training and transforming our lives to be able to manifest  our greater self, to bring forth our Buddha-wisdom and the compassionate  capacity to realize happiness for ourselves and other people.
In  its early days, the Soka Gakkai was despised and laughed at in Japanese  society as a gathering of the sick and poor. Josei Toda, my life  mentor, took this as a point of pride, however, and declared with  confidence: “The true mission of religion is to bring relief to the sick  and the poor. That is the purpose of Buddhism. The Soka Gakkai is the  ally and friend of the common people, a friend to the unhappy. However  much we may be looked down on, we will continue to fight for the sake of  such people.” Faced with the devastation of postwar Japan, Toda was  convinced that, in the eyes of the Buddha, this was the most noble  action.
Moreover, the 
Lotus Sutra doesn’t deny the value  of worldly benefit. By allowing people to start to practice in  expectation of such benefit, the teachings of the 
Lotus Sutra  establish a way of life based on faith, and through this faith—developed  step by step, starting from wherever we happen to find ourselves in  life when we come to the Buddhist path, and with whatever natural human  worries or concerns happen to have us in their grip at the time—we enter  the path of wisdom. By believing in this sutra that teaches universal  enlightenment and by purifying our mind, we are then able to bring our  daily actions into harmony with the core spirit of Buddhism. In the 
Lotus Sutra and the teachings of Nichiren, there is no essential dichotomy between enlightenment and the lives of ordinary beings. 
Western scholars have observed that Nichiren was the first  Buddhist leader to speak with a truly prophetic voice, insisting that  Japanese leaders embrace the dharma and make it a social reality. What  inspired Nichiren to take such a bold step, risking his life to assert a  Buddhist vision of society in a country where religion had  traditionally been expected to support the existing power structure  rather than hold it to account? You’re right that in Japan  religion has traditionally been expected to support authority.  Nichiren’s very different response to power holds a key to understanding  his character.
Nichiren felt compassion for the sufferings of  the common people and a sense of responsibility for doing something  about this. And this empathy and earnest commitment to social  transformation are at the very core of all Nichiren’s actions.
Thirteenth-century  Kamakura Japan was a terrible time to live. Life was constantly  threatened by earthquakes, droughts, and other natural disasters, as  well as famine, pestilence, and armed conflict. But neither the  political nor the religious authorities of the day were able to see  beyond their attachment to their own power and position to take  effective action. The result was a pervasive sense of powerlessness and  despair among the populace. Nichiren was by nature incapable of turning a  blind eye to other people’s pain. So he spoke out, launching a battle  of ideas that challenged the existing order.
|  | 
| Daisaku Ikeda and his wife, Kaneko [second from left], visiting members of the Soka Gakkai International in Tokyo in 1979. © Seikyo Shimbun | 
That sounds very risky. It was. But Nichiren understood the risks. In 1260, he presented his treatise, 
Rissho Ankoku Ron (On Establishing the Correct Teaching for the Peace of the Land),  to the highest de facto authority of Japan, the retired regent Hojo  Tokiyori. He did this because he was convinced that in a feudal society,  changing the awareness of those at the top of the pyramid of power was  essential. In the years that followed, in spite of persecution and the  constant threat of assassination or execution, Nichiren fiercely  maintained his independence, insisting on holding those in power to  account. He gained many adherents among the common people at this time  by teaching them that happiness in this world was indeed possible. But  his influence among the downtrodden sectors of society was naturally  perceived as a threat by those in power.
Nichiren had clearly  foreseen all of this, and his writings record with great frankness the  doubts and questions that assailed him early in his career as he  pondered whether or not he should speak out. At one point he confessed  to a disciple: “I, Nichiren, am the only person in all Japan who  understands this. But if I utter so much as a word concerning it, then  parents, brothers, and teachers will surely censure me, and the ruler of  the nation will take steps against me. On the other hand, I am fully  aware that if I do not speak out I will be lacking in compassion.” After  a process of intense self-questioning, Nichiren recalled the words of  the 
Lotus Sutra urging that this teaching be spread after the  Buddha’s passing, and he made a great vow to transform society and  enable all people to live in happiness.
How did the Soka Gakkai take Nichiren’s legacy forward?  The Soka Gakkai’s first leaders, Tsunesaburo Makiguchi and Josei Toda,  were both innovative educators dedicated to the reform of educational  practices in Japan. Mr. Makiguchi converted to Nichiren Buddhism in  1928, two years before he founded the Soka Gakkai, and Mr. Toda followed  him in embracing faith in Buddhism soon after. Like Nichiren, they  dedicated themselves to the happiness of ordinary people struggling to  live their lives.
During World War II, however, they found  themselves facing persecutions when they resisted the currents of  Japanese militarist fascism and criticized the state’s use of Shinto to  spiritually unite the Japanese people behind the war effort. They were  arrested and imprisoned as a result. In 1944, Mr. Makiguchi died in  prison from extreme malnutrition. He was 73 at the time of his death.  Mr. Toda emerged from prison to rebuild the organization amid the  devastation of defeat.
But it wasn’t just the military government that opposed the Soka Gakkai’s message of peace and radical inclusion, correct?  That’s right. During the almost seven centuries since his death,  Nichiren’s Buddhism had become desensitized to the interests and  concerns of the common people. At times it had even been interpreted as a  highly nationalistic teaching. Mr. Makiguchi rediscovered Nichiren  Buddhism as a religion dedicated to the happiness of ordinary people. He  sought to promote such happiness, starting at the foundations of  society, by reforming educational practices in Japan. With time, his  goals expanded to include sharing the practice with people from all  walks of life as a means of transforming the lives of ordinary people  and thus society itself.
Didn’t Nichiren Buddhism also  unite behind the war effort, as required by the government, like  virtually all other schools of Japanese Buddhism? During  Japan’s years of militarist madness, the Nichiren Shoshu priesthood,  with which Makiguchi was associated, gave in to pressure from the  political authorities. For example, they agreed to modify or delete  passages from the writings of Nichiren that were considered problematic  by the authorities. In contrast, Mr. Makiguchi upheld the original  intent of Nichiren Buddhism—a humanistic dedication to the happiness of  ordinary people—and died in prison as a result.
Josei Toda [left], the second president of the Soka Gakkai, and Tsunesaburo Makiguchi, the founding president, ca. 1930. © Seikyo Shimbun
Would  you say that the modernist, global-reaching humanism of the postwar  Soka Gakkai was born of Makiguchi’s resistance to the war? Yes.  Though “inspired by” might be a better way of putting it, because  President Makiguchi’s struggle to preserve humanistic values stands as  an enduring example for us. It was his disciple Josei Toda who, having  survived the prison experience, really defined what can be recognized as  “modern Buddhism.” In prison, Mr. Toda read the difficult-to-grasp  words of the 
Lotus Sutra with his very being, gaining the  groundbreaking insight that the Buddha is nothing other than life  itself. I am personally convinced that this is an insight of profound  significance within the larger history of Buddhism. Through his  awakening in prison, Mr. Toda developed a universal means of expressing  the core message of the 
Lotus Sutra in a way that made it  accessible to contemporary humanity, reviving it as something potently  meaningful to daily life in the modern world, regardless of race,  religion, or cultural background.
Toda was convinced that the  Soka Gakkai was heir to the mission to widely propagate Nichiren  Buddhism for realizing a peaceful society, and he made this pledge  central to the identity of the organization. Although he himself never  traveled outside of Japan, he was deeply concerned about the peace of  the world.
In September 1957, just six months before his death,  he issued a historic call for the banning of nuclear weapons, which he  denounced as an absolute evil threatening humanity’s right to exist. In  this way he sought to communicate the 
Lotus Sutra’s commitment  to the sanctity of life and peace to the entire world. I am convinced  that Mr. Toda’s efforts greatly contributed to the work of  universalizing Nichiren Buddhism.
But it wasn’t Toda who  took the Soka Gakkai global. That has been your mission in the founding  of the Soka Gakkai International, correct? As the  organization’s third president, I have been deeply inspired by my  predecessors. I have felt a powerful responsibility to universalize and  ensure the long-term flourishing of the teachings. Just weeks before he  died in April 1958, Mr. Toda called me to his side and told me that he  had dreamed of going to Mexico, that there were people there waiting to  learn about Buddhism. In terms of the teachings, I have tried to  separate out those elements in the traditional interpretation of  Nichiren Buddhism that are more reflective of Japanese cultural and  historical contingencies than they are of the underlying message. To  this end I have continued to engage in dialogue with a wide range of  people around the world in order to refine and universalize the  expression of my ideas. Because I am convinced that all cultures and  religions are expressions of deep human truths, I have regularly  referenced philosophical traditions other than Buddhism, bringing in the  ideas and insights of literature, art, science, and medicine, and  sharing the inspiring words and insights of thinkers from a wide range  of cultural and religious backgrounds with people, including the  membership of the Soka Gakkai.
I remember that in his  book on the Soka Gakkai, the American scholar Richard Seager noted with  surprise that there were no traditional Buddhist images or icons visible  on the grounds of Soka University’s Japanese or American campuses,  though he found statues of Victor Hugo and Walt Whitman. The  British philosopher Alfred North Whitehead (1861–1947) wrote about  religion: “Its principles may be eternal, but the expression of those  principles requires continual development.” To me, this is especially  true for Buddhism, which is a dynamic life philosophy that responds to  people’s unchanging desire for peace and happiness across different  historical and cultural settings. This is why dialogue between cultures  is so crucial for the development of Buddhism in the next millennium.  While staying true to its essence, Buddhism needs to encounter, learn,  and evolve. In this sense, I am convinced that the work of rediscovery,  purification, and universalization—taken on by the SGI as its core  mission— is the very essence of Buddhism.
You have recast  the teachings of the Lotus Sutra in terms of a process you call “human  revolution.” The first part of that term gives expression to your  philosophy of Buddhist humanism. But there’s also revolution. What are  some of the more revolutionary aspects of Buddhism as taught by the SGI,  and how does religious humanism spark that kind of revolution?  Buddhism is inherently revolutionary. I can’t think of anything more  radical than enlightenment. It is both a return to our most natural  state and a dramatic change. To quote Nichiren, “There is definitely  something extraordinary in the ebb and flow of the tide, the rising and  setting of the moon, and the way in which summer, autumn, winter, and  spring give way to each other. Something uncommon also occurs when an  ordinary person attains Buddhahood.”
The expression “human  revolution” was made famous by President Toda. It is a way of expressing  the idea of enlightenment in contemporary language. In Nichiren  Buddhism, enlightenment always impacts society. Through an inner,  spiritual transformation individuals can awaken to a genuine sense of  the sanctity of life. This counters the disregard and mistrust for life  that is at the root of what is wrong in contemporary society. This inner  change is thus the basis for realizing both individual happiness and a  peaceful society. Again, in Nichiren Buddhism the two are never  separate.
In terms of the individual, Mr. Toda explained it this  way: “Human revolution isn’t something special or out of the ordinary.  It could be as simple as someone who had been lazy and uninspired  becoming enthused and committed. Or someone who hadn’t been interested  in learning putting themselves into their studies. Or a person who has  struggled with poverty becoming more stable and comfortable in their  life. Human revolution is a change in a person’s basic orientation in  life. And it is the transformation in awareness caused by Buddhist  practice that makes that possible.”
Yes. But that’s a very different conception of Buddhahood than most of us are used to.  By using the language of “human revolution,” Mr. Toda transformed the  idea of Buddhahood, which in Japan and other parts of Asia had come to  be understood as pertaining principally to the afterlife, into the clear  and profound goal of developing and bringing to fruition our own unique  capacity and character while we are alive. I earnestly believe that  when people who are making such efforts unite and realize grassroots  solidarity on a world scale, we will see the path opened to the  realization of a nonviolent global revolution.
At the  very end of the Lotus Sutra, Shakyamuni Buddha declares, “If you see a  person who accepts and upholds this sutra, you should rise and greet him  from afar, showing him the same respect you would a Buddha.” How do you  interpret Shakyamuni’s words? I believe that these words offer a clear guide for Buddhists living in a religiously plural world.
Nichiren  states that the eight Chinese characters that translate as “you should  rise and greet him from afar, showing him the same respect you would a  Buddha” express his first and highest transmission— the human qualities  Shakyamuni hoped most to see in those who practiced the 
Lotus Sutra  in the future after his passing. In other words, the most fundamental  thing is our action and behavior as human beings, our ability to care  for and treasure a single individual.
There is a chapter of the 
Lotus Sutra  dedicated to Bodhisattva Never Disparaging, who reverentially saluted  each person he encountered with the words: “I have profound reverence  for you, I would never dare treat you with disparaging and arrogance.  Why? Because you are all practicing the bodhisattva way and are certain  to attain Buddhahood.” This provides us with a concrete model for our  interactions with others as modern Buddhists living in an age of  international interconnection and global issues and concerns.
According  to the teachings of Mahayana Buddhism, the period of time we are living  in is called the Latter Day of the Law, an era of conflict and strife  when all things tend toward conflict. The only way of resisting and  countering the violent tides of such an age is with strong faith in the  Buddha-nature of oneself and of others. And the way that this is put  into practice is through the respect we can offer others.
We don’t see much of that today in international relations, although there is always hope for the future.  Indeed there is, and Buddhism can offer ways to cultivate just that  kind of hope. To believe in both oneself and others, and to treat others  as one would a Buddha—this is the practice that awakens and calls forth  the Buddha-nature that resides within us all. It is here that the  practice of straightforward propagation advocated by Nichiren has its  true significance. It is precisely because we are able to muster faith  in the Buddha-nature of the 
other person that we can bring  forth compassion from within ourselves and, desiring happiness for all,  continue an earnest and respect-filled process of dialogue. This is the  real spirit of propagation— of spreading Buddhism from one person to  another. It first and foremost involves building trust and friendship  through respectful, ongoing dialogue.
All people are equally  endowed with the inherent capacity to respect others, and this capacity  is a source of inexhaustible hope because it embodies a universal truth  that transcends the specifics of religious creeds. The respect offered  by Buddhists to other people is offered in virtue of their humanity,  without regard to their religious belief or creed. Nichiren described  this with a poetic metaphor, saying that when we bow to a mirror, the  figure in the mirror bows back reverentially at us. This is the true  spirit of Buddhism, and yes, it is reason for great hope. ▼