I recently read Zen Master Who? myself, and for me, the notes on
Suzuki's jingo-antics were definitely new information. I've read a
good deal by Suzuki, who wrote very eloquently about Zen, and was also
a commendable scholar to boot. When Ford mentions that Suzuki's
influence was great, that is no understatement. His writings, though
certainly subject criticism, attest to his in-depth experience with
Zen, Buddhist philosophy, and the history of Buddhism, in general.
Sharing a fate similar to that of his occasional colleague, Alan Watts,
he has been labelled a popularizer by many modern commentators... a
person that succeeded primarily in generating interest, but whose
explanations were not particularly accurate, or excessively capable of
misleading inquirers. In my personal opinion, that's an unfair
characterization, though valid objections can be made to
their style of exposition.
(Watts credibility tends to take a larger hit than Suzuki's, I think.
Though, Ford mentions in Zen Master Who? that Suzuki lacked many
writings on meditation. If a lack of focus on meditation was one of
Suzuki's most prominent criticisms, it is one of Watts' strengths.)
The issue of D.T. Suzuki's nationalism is certainly surprising one, and though I don't doubt it's truth, I think it may have the ability to sound much worse than it was. You know...it's one of those 'oh gosh, how shocking!' types of things that generally show-up when somebody's reputation is about to be demolished (can you imagine the contrived scandal that would've taken place if Suzuki were still alive today?). I have in mind the actor that played Kramer (Cramer?) on Seinfeld, for instance. The guy is an a**h*le...doesn't mean he was a bad comic or actor. But suddenly people can only look at the actor and see a racist. Here's a question for you: maybe an a**h*le can be a good comic, but can an a**h*le be a good Zen practitioner...maybe even a teacher? Perhaps contrary to the spirit of Zen, I'm going to say: Don't answer that question too fast.
Now, I'm not trying to say that it should be ignored. The exploration of such seemingly conflicting behaviors in Suzuki, 'ferocious' nationalism and compassionate Buddhism, probably offer an excellent opportunity to learn a thing or two about Zen (even if it does nothing to help us towards enlightenment). In general, I don't think it should be down-played, but I think it would be needless to over-react to this 'achilles heel' of D.T. Suzuki. It should be remembered and genuinely taken into consideration that Japan, at that time, was facing tumultuous and, in some cases, tragic pangs of change in their society. The very fabric of their way of life was beginning to tear apart as a result of exposure to the Western world...the world, at large. The hundreds of years that had preceded were perhaps not always peaceful years, being plagued by civil power struggles, but they were years during which Japan enjoyed isolation from most of the world and were free to develop inwardly and create or contribute lavishly to such amazing traditions as Zen, calligraphy, sado, bonsai, bonseki, poetry, martial arts, and artistic craftsmenship. The war represented the possible destruction of all of the beautiful things they had discovered within their uniquely Japanese minds.
Suzuki was surely a Zen man, but he was also a Japanese man. His nation's cultural identity, perhaps the nation itself, was facing possible destruction! All the people of his country were completely uncertain of how they were going to fit into this new, much larger, much more intimidating world. And, hey, looked what ultimately happened down the road... it culminated in Japan getting bonked with the two most devastating bombs ever used. These were tough, if not desperate, times.
Again...I'm not excusing him. I'm simply saying: take in the full environment in which this occurred. In retrospect, I'm not really all that surprised.
