Transfiguring Evil and Death: Bhutanese and Korean Mask Dances

Presented at the annual meeting of the Comparative and Continental Philosophy Circle, University of Iceland, Reykjavík, May 12, 2015. Please do not cite without prior permission. An expanded and revised version of this paper is under preparation for publication. TRANSFIGURING EVIL AND DEATH: BHUTANESE AND KOREAN MASK DANCES BRIAN SCHROEDER Perhaps no topic in contemporary philosophical and theological discourse is more avoided than that of evil. This is due largely to the radical critique and deconstruction of dualistic metaphysics that began in the late nineteenth century with Nietzsche, even if he is not always acknowledged as the primary source of that new beginning in recent thinking. Yet the problem of evil confronts contemporary culture and thinking as much as it ever did in the past. From the Buddhist perspective, evil does not exist as an independent ontological being, presence, or force, but rather is that which derives from the attachments and defilements of the ordinary mind. Evil is construed as that which hinders the expression of compassion based on the fundamental conviction that all beings and dharmas are interdependent. Evil manifests itself as the assertion of the independent ego-self over and against the community of other entities, both human and nonhuman. Photo by Brian Schroeder taken at the Druk Wangyel Festival, Dochula Pass, Bhutan Buddhism has developed over the past two and half millennia various ways to address and confront the problem of evil, from teachings to meditation practices to 2 artistic forms, of which sculpture, architecture, and painting are the most prominent. Less well known is the art of dance, in particular the mask dance. Deriving its origins from the pre-Buddhist culture of India, the Buddhist mask dance is performed ritually in only a very few remaining places in the world today. I will take up the relationship between the mask dance as it is performed in Bhutan and Korea and examine briefly how each culture confronts and literally transfigures the problem of evil on both the individual and societal levels, and then offer an interpretation from the Western standpoint of overcoming the nihilism associated with such evil by engaging Nietzsche’s reflections on ressentiment. The Bhutanese Mask Dance It is impossible to separate the concept and experience of evil from suffering and death. According to the Buddha, the fundamental aspect of existence is that it is inseparable from duhkha, which is generally translated as suffering (physical but primarily psychological), but also as anxiety, discomfort, difficulty, dissatisfaction, pain, stress, and uneasiness. For most people, these states of mind are in the forefront of our relationship to death and dying. In a recent BBC article, a journalist visiting Bhutan recounts experiencing an anxiety attack. At the time though he thought that he was dying and immediately sought medical assistance. Relieved but shaken, he described his experience to Karma Ura,1 who sagely responded: “You need to think about death for five minutes every day. It will cure you. It is this thing, this fear of death, this fear of dying before we have accomplished what we want or seen our children grow. This is what is troubling you. Rich people in the West, they have not touched dead bodies, fresh wounds, rotten things. This is a problem. This is the human condition. We have to be ready for the moment we cease to exist.”2 We confront mortality in a variety of ways, but often the thought and even experience of death is confined to that of the Other. In Western cultures, actual death has become increasingly something kept out of sight, even if by the time the average child in the United States finishes elementary school she or he will have seen virtually some 8000 murders on television.3 Many people therefore learn to accept death as something other and thus ever remote and even unreal, and yet also come to fear it even more because of its intangible accessibility. Gone are the days when dying involved a family and communal process that necessitated a continual presence and experience. Families, if they can come together in time, will gather around the bed of the dying in the sterile and generally unfeeling anonymity of the hospital room to say their final farewells, but often only when those who are passing on are beyond the ability to communicate. More often than not, however, the dying are left feeling isolated in a strange setting, attended to largely by people, who if 3 well intentioned, are generally and necessarily so detached emotionally. Society in general is losing any sense of what it is to confront death on a regular, communal level, and thereby also losing a sense of the affirmation of life through the repeated ritual confrontation—which can also be celebratory—of death and dying. The small Himalayan nation of Bhutan is known as the Kingdom of Happiness, which has replaced the standard formula of Gross National Product as the principal means of measuring growth and success in an increasingly competitive, capitalistvalue driven world with that of Gross National Happiness (GNH). Measurable in different ways, happiness also assumes many forms, arguably the deepest or most profound of which is freedom from the oppressive fear of death, associated throughout the world generally with evil. It is perhaps this that makes the Bhutanese notion of happiness different from many other cultures. Bhutan is the only independent country in the world where Vajrayana or Tantric Buddhism is the official state religion. Its ancient dances are called collectively cham, a word of Tibetan origin meaning simply ‘dance.’ Much of what is known about cham masks and dances derives from oral history since most of the written texts and old masks were destroyed in the 1950-70s during the Chinese occupation of Tibet, and only now is this knowledge being written down, with little of it translated into English. The great quasi-mythical Indian Tantric Buddhist teacher and adept Padmasambhava (or Guru Rinpoche) is credited with having introduced the mask dance to the Himalayan regions, beginning in Tibet. Invited by the ailing king of Bumthang Chhokhor, Sindhu Raja, to subjugate the hostile deity Shelging Karpo, Padmasambhava is said to have performed a magical dance and thus bring the demon under his control. In fact, so great is the power attributed to Padmasambhava that he is said to have overcome the ancient deities of the old religion, Bon, including the wrathful deities and demons, and converted them into defenders of Buddhism.4 Performed in order to transform evil for the benefit of the entire world, cham can be grouped into three broad categories: 1) didactic dances to impart a moral or ethical teaching; 2) purification dances to protect either individuals and/or a place from evil influences; and 3) dances that celebrate the power of the Buddha-dharma and especially that of Padmasambhava over demonic forces. Cham is generally performed by monks who meditate for extended periods of time beforehand, visualizing and invoking protective deities, in order to be able to visualize themselves as deities. Traditionally, women are not allowed to perform cham, but a more inclusive attitude has been adopted at least since the rule of the current Druk Galypo or “Dragon King,” Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck. Although they do not wear masks, women are allowed to participate in the dance festival. 4 Photo by Brian Schroeder taken at the Druk Wangyel Festival, Dochula Pass, Bhutan The dances are performed “at different occasions within a mandala (sacred space) with an aim to eradicate evil forces and to bring about prosperity in terms of wealth, wisdom, and the uplifting of the inner spirit. When a dancing monk wears the mask, he is believed to have embodied the deity, which the mask represents. The masked dancers, dressed in elaborate brocade robes, engage with the symbolically charged mandala pattern in specific direction, circling around the deity at the center. With the use of chanting, movements of the body, hand gestures and a meditative state of mind, the dancers ritually purify the space, inviting the blessings of the divinities.”5 Photo by Brian Schroeder taken at the Druk Wangyel Festival, Dochula Pass, Bhutan Said not to be of human origin, the dances are rather reproductions of celestial 5 performances that Buddhist masters have witnessed during deep samadhi or meditation. Performing ancient movements and repeating sacred mantras, they take upon themselves the evil energy in the world around them. The evil is then often trapped in an effigy, a human body usually made of a type of papier mâché, dough, or cloth. At the climax of the ceremony, the dance master (called a chamspon) cuts open the effigy and draws the evil into his own body. In doing so, the evil force is shown the path to peace and freedom from purely egoistic desire.6 Thus is evil transfigured and transformed into positive energy. Cham masks represent numerous figures: bodhisattvas and great teachers, male and female protective deities, and legendary individuals, such as Padmasambhava. Many of the masks also portray fearsome, animistic visages that do not represent evil entities or powers but rather are intended to frighten and thus subdue demons. According to Konchok Namdak, a leading khenpo (scholar), the mask dancers “show the same form as the evil so the evil can feel fear. The protective deities take a wrathful form in order to scare evil.”7 In the masquerade, which periodically involves the spectators, a transformative, and at times cathartic, transformation occurs, and thus is the Buddha-dharma communicated by ritualized, meditative activity. There are numerous different dances, which often relate historical secular and/or religious accounts. Blending often the metaphysical and the social dimensions of existence, the mask dances perform both a religious as well as a pedagogical function. This is exhibited, for example, in the zhanag, or the dance of the black hats, one of the oldest and most important dances, which dates back to the ninth century. Dance of the Black Hats. Photo from internet. 6 Originally Tibetan, today this dance survives only among Tibetan exiles in Nepal and Bhutan. It tells the story of the subjugation of an anti-Buddhist Tibetan king, Langdarma, in 842 CE and is ritually performed to dispel negative forces. The symbolism of the mask dance is variegated, but in Vajrayana Buddhism it is often associated with death. This representation is not only of physical death but also with what Zen and other expressions of Buddhism refer to as the Great Death, that is, the releasement from the bondage of that ego-self, which is necessary for the attainment of anatman, the basis of nirvana. Photo from internet. According to Buddhist mythology, the demonic overlords of the eight hells are all animal headed characters that reinforce the idea that animals have power and that human and nonhuman existence is intertwined. Angry divinities are often portrayed with a crown or diadem adorned with five small human skulls that symbolize the conversion of negative and destructive emotions into positive attributes: 1) ignorance, which is transformed into wisdom; 2) pride, which becomes non-egoism; 3) jealousy, the overcoming of which is acceptance; 4) attachment, which is released to become enjoyment; and 5) anger, which is converted into compassion. 7 Photo from internet. From the Buddhist perspective, evil comes from within the mind. Evil does not exist as an independent, external reality or power. Deities and even bodhisattavas are often depicted in wrathful forms in order to show that evil arises internally. Evil is created by all too human traits of ignorance, anger, desire, jealousy, fear, and ego. The mind is originally clear, but over the course of time it becomes clouded and distorted by the ego-self. Cham transfigures evil by vanquishing the ego so that the mind can see the path to liberation (Skt. moksha) and thus happiness. Photo by Brian Schroeder taken at the Druk Wangyel Festival, Dochula Pass, Bhutan Through cham, ordinary people come to recognize the various deities, which in 8 Vajrayana it is believed that they will encounter after death. Drupon (master teacher) Sonam Kunga (1937-2014) states, “The performing of cham not only destroys all obstacles to Dharma and its people, it also purifies and blesses the whole earth. These dances leave powerful karmic imprints in the minds of the people who observe them.”8 Being able to identify which gods to trust in the afterlife, or bardo, an earth-bound state of existence similar to Catholic Purgatory between incarnations, assists in finding rebirth in a good, hopefully better life. The Korean Mask Dance The traditional Korean mask dance, or talchum, is a form of drama featuring the wearing of masks, singing, and dancing. It was originally a regional term only applied to mask dances traditional to Hwanghae Province, though it eventually became a general term referring to all forms of the art. Korean mask dances are referred to by different names depending on where they originate. Photo from internet. Korean Minjung thinking has had a considerable impact on both engaged Buddhism and Christian liberation theology. A relatively unknown form of Buddhism, Minjung developed largely in the 1970-80s before being repressed by both the Korean government and other religious forces in the 1990s and afterward. 9 A distinctive aspect of Minjung thinking is that attention given to the mask dance, an old Buddhist festival ritual that was revived and given new impetus, as a model of an existential, embodied approach for helping to overcome or transcend the nihilism of hatred, resentment, and revenge. These expressions of nihilism, the deepest problem of our age and what is most counter to the development of community, are endemic and not of course confined to any particular society or culture. In Buddhism, only from the standpoint of anatman is the sharing possible that is the basis of ethical community, which is possible only through the realization of interdependency or dependent origination (pratityasamutpada). A difficult term to translate, minjung is a combination of two Chinese words: min (people) and jung (masses). The term minjung appropriately applies to any individual or group of individuals that are oppressed politically, socially, or economically, through the prejudices of sex, race, color, nationality, or creed. Yet while denoting the oppressed in the general sense of its meaning, minjung, it is stressed by its theorists, is a distinctively Korean way of thinking. That said, Minjung thinking extends beyond cultural and ethnic boundaries insofar as it speaks to a universal or global ethical and political condition. Minjung is a thinking of the people and not merely for the people. It is a cultural anthropology insofar as it, writes KimYong-bok, “defines its own existence and generates new acts and dramas in history through its own stories.”9 The stories relayed in the mask dances cover the range of great political and religious events to those of mundane, everyday existence. A man receiving acupuncture treatment for an injury. Photo from internet. 10 Minjung thinking aspires to what Hyun Young-hak calls “critical transcendence.”10 This notion refers to the experience of the minjung as they participate in the mask dance, a traditional old village festival originally performed to pacify the gods. In the nineteenth century, the mask dance was transformed into a play performed for the sake of the ordinary suppressed people. In the dance-play, the villagers are able to vent their frustration and rage toward their oppressors. The mask dance thus takes the form of a sociopolitical satire in which the minjung are able to poke fun at and ridicule their rulers, both political and religious, as well as themselves and their own fate in the world. In so doing, a sense of “objectivity” is afforded to the minjung in the mask dance. This objectivity or critical transcendence is not given to the people from the outside (for example, from God or deities); rather, it emerges from the experience of the minjung themselves. A degenerate priest and a flirtatious woman. Photo from internet. One of the central concerns of Minjung thinking is the utilization of the energy manifest in the critical transcendence of the mask dance for bringing about the liberating or messianic. The “conscientization”11 of the minjung about their oppression, which “explodes into reality”12 in the mask dance, provides the necessary impetus for the transformation of a potentially self-destructive energy (han) into a viable sociopolitical praxis. What is critically transcended in the mask dance is the accumulated, suppressed, unresolved sense of resentment against the injustices suffered by the minjung. This resentment is termed han in the Korean language.13 The force or energy of han can 11 manifest itself in two ways: either as a destructive negating force or as a positive affirming force. It is the latter that Minjung thinking hopes to channel and utilize for the purpose of social transformation. Han is characterized primarily as a feeling; it is not a mere theoretical concept. It is embodied feeling, what Spinoza understands as affect, that may express itself artistically as in the mask dance, or as a “tendency for social revolution” brought on by “a feeling with a tenacity of will for life.”14 Han can manifest itself as “fearful han,” as a destructive, violent force capable of negating to the point of self-destruction. An embodiment of anger and frustration. Photo from internet. Thus, writes Suh Nam-dong, accumulated han must be met with continuous dan.15 Dan is self-denial, a detachment of one’s self from the “vicious circle” of han; but dan is not a once and for all event. Like han, dan is a process, functioning at times as a release valve for the built-up pressure of accumulated resentment, anger, and even hatred, and at other times, as a fuel for social transformation or praxis. While han and dan are dialectically different from one another, there is a fundamental unity between them. It is this unity that allows han to be sublated by dan thus raising han to a higher, more positive level of force or energy, similar to the Hegelian movement of Aufhebung. Unlike Hegel’s understanding, though, this positivity is not necessarily determined or even logical. The Buddha-nature realized in this movement is enacted only when the will to rationally achieve this positivity is abandoned. This abandoning or relinquishing of the egoistic will or desire to control ultimately one’s own fate and that of the world in which one lives is a fundamental aspect of the mask dance. Now to speak of potentially explosive forces such as han necessarily brings one to the question of the status of power, and particularly, of political power. How is it 12 possible to harness the revolutionary potential of han into a force capable of fostering genuine social and political change? In order to transform han into an affirmative sociopolitical force, the conscientized critical transcendence afforded to the minjung must be concretely, humanly, actualized. This is accomplished through the mechanism of dan, which literally means “to cut” or “to sever.” In its existential signification, though, dan is self-denial. What is denied is not the yearning for individual rights and freedoms or the place of the individual in society. The selfdenial of dan is a willful commitment to place the needs of the society, of the minjung as a whole, before the needs of individual existence. As such, it is a willing of non-willing, a radical releasement or letting-go (Gelassenheit). Overcoming Ressentiment as Transfiguring Evil A growing ressentiment, to borrow Nietzsche’s term, is infecting Western culture to the point of nihilism. With regard to this, what can be learned from minjung thinking? Perhaps the dialectical interplay between han and dan offers a key insight toward tackling the problem of nihilism. Ressentiment is both similar to and different from the notion of han. It is different in the sense that han is a phenomenon both recognized and understood by the minjung, hence the development of the mechanism of dan. Western ressentiment, on the other hand, is a cancerous sore that eats away at the social fabric of society because it develops, for the most part, without being detected until it is too late. This is due largely to the individualistic nature of ressentiment, which follows suit with the Western history of ideas, reinforced in the ideals of the Enlightenment (Aufklärung), which to this day still govern much social, ethical, and political discourse. The minjung are able to sublate the potentially destructive force of han through the mechanism of dan in the mask dance. On Nietzsche’s analysis, what is needed for the overcoming of ressentiment is a strong, affirmative will. All existence is the will to power, the genetic and differential interplay of active and reactive forces.16 What characterizes this strong overcoming will is the ability to “will backwards.”17 By willing “backwards” Nietzsche is referring to the ability to affirm time and all that has happened within time; this is coupled with “active forgetting,”18 over and beyond mere forgiveness, that is, the ability not to carry the injustices of the past into the present and future as a feeling of ressentiment. Nietzsche’s analysis is obviously not the only approach to the problem, but it certainly represents one of the most provocative and penetrating critiques of the issue. Specifically, what is needed is a mechanism akin to dan in order to redirect the dangerous energies of ressentiment from a self-destructive nihilism to a vehicle for positive sociopolitical and economic transformation. 13 What is the connection between the sublation and the critical transcendence of han and the overcoming of ressentiment? What is common to both of these strategies is the aspect of self-denial. This is obviously not a new theme having its origins as far back as the Buddhist notion of anatman. Thus the mechanism of dan is clearly compatible with a hermeneutic of self-denial. Hegel and Nietzsche’s pronouncement of the death of God, which is also the death of a certain conception of the self, marked the inauguration of the theme of self-denial into contemporary mainstream Western philosophical and theological discourse (although this notion was present within certain isolated, and later suppressed, contexts such as medieval Christian mysticism). The overcoming of a certain sovereign conception of the self is a becoming of a new understanding of self. It is the promotion of community, which is contingent upon the recognition of ethical interrelation with every other being. This is expressed in Buddhism as non-ego or no-Self (anatman), which cannot be fully understand and realized apart from its connection with dependent origination (pratityasamutpada) that along with the teaching that everything is impermanent form the fundamental concepts of Buddhist metaphysics. This is expressed in both the cham and minjung mask dances of Bhutan and Korea, which aim to transfigure the locus of evil rooted in the egoistic self into the non-ego of the Buddha-dharma, and to do so in way that leads one to cathartic joy and laughter. Photo by Brian Schroeder taken at the Druk Wangyel Festival, Dochula Pass, Bhutan 1 Dasho Karma Ura is the president of the Centre for Bhutan Studies and GNH Research. 2 Eric Weiner, “Bhutan’s dark secret to happiness,” British Broadcasting Corporation, April 5, 2015. <http://www.bbc.com/travel/story/20150408-bhutans-dark-secretto-happiness 14 3 Source: <https://www.csun.edu/science/health/docs/tv&health.html> The religion of Tibet and Bhutan before the advent of Buddhism in the eighth century CE was a forerunner of Bon, which is basically a form of animism and nature worship. By the eleventh century, however, Bon had firmly established itself as an independent religious practice with strong similarities with and connections to Vajrayana Buddhism. Still practiced among some today, Bon has its own rituals, which are directed against the eradication of demons and evil spirits that bring distress, misery, and illness to humanity. Under the influence of Buddhism, most Bon rituals were either superseded or suppressed but some aspects of nature worship that Bon professed were incorporated into Vajrayana. 5 “Dance,” in Peter J. Seybolt, ed., Cultural Sociology of the Middle East, Asia, and Africa, 4 Volumes (New York: SAGE Publications, 2012), Vol. 3, 92. 6 Core of Culture: Cham. <http://www.coreofculture.org/cham.html> 7 Ibid. 8 Ibid. 9 Kim Yong-bok, “Messiah and Minjung: Discerning Messianic Politics over against Political Messianism,” in Minjung Theology, ed. Commission on Theological Concerns of the Christian Conference of Asia (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1981), 186. 10 Hyun Young-hak, “A Theological Look at the Mask Dance in Korea,” in Minjung Theology, 50-54. 11 Ibid. 12 Ibid. 13 See in Minjung Theology: Suh Nam-dong, “Toward a Theology of Han,” pp. 55-68, and “Historical References for a Theology of Minjung,” pp. 178-80; and Suh Kwangsun David, “A Biographical Sketch of an Asian Theological Consultation,” pp. 23-28, for an introductory commentary on Suh Nam-dong’s articles. 14 Suh Nam-dong, 58. 15 Ibid., 64-65. 16 On this point see especially Gilles Deleuze, Nietzsche and Philosophy, trans. Hugh Tomlinson (New York: Columbia University Press, 1983), 39-72. 17 See Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, “On Redemption” II, §20. 18 Friedrich Nietzsche, On the Genealogy of Morals, §1. 4