QUESTION 8

The Eight Great Difficult Points of the Prāsaṅgika School, according to Tsongkhapa

Drakar Tulku helpfully goes on to describe the eight special features, or propositions, of the Prāsaṅgika system, as defined by the Lord Tsongkhapa. These are (1) that the consciousness of the universal ground, distinct in nature from the other six consciousnesses, is not accepted; (2) that there is a special way of refuting the self-cognizing mind; (3) that it is not accepted that the view through which suchness is realized can be generated in the minds of one’s opponents through the use of autonomous arguments; (4) that, in the same way that consciousness is asserted, it is necessary also to assert the validity of extramental objects; (5) that the Shrāvakas and Pratyekabuddhas possess the realization that phenomena are without inherent existence; (6) that clinging to the self of phenomena constitutes a defilement (nyon mongs); (7) that the state of disintegration is an existent, efficient entity (zhig pa dngos po); and (8) that on this basis, there is a special (Prāsaṅgika) way of positing the three times.207

After giving a brief explanation of points (3)–(8), Drakar Tulku has this to say, among other things:

Thus it is in this way that our own school is far superior to every other lower Buddhist school. These assertions, together with the crucial point that, even on the conventional level, existence by way of characteristics is not asserted, have been extensively explained elsewhere. Therefore, when in this system, the assertions of others are refuted, since this is done chiefly through the eliciting of contradictory consequences and not through the stating of autonomous reasoning, this system is called “Prāsaṅgika” or “Consequentialist.” By contrast, when others, led on by great and irrelevant bragging, explain (this system) differently and in ways inconsonant with the facts, their varying accounts of the insight, purpose, and name of this system are nothing but an object of ridicule.

In the Prāsaṅgika system, the nonfigurative ultimate, free from all assertion, is emphasized and established. And since this ultimate is established by means of the contradictory consequences of the [opponent’s] theses, without depending on autonomous arguments, it is on this basis alone that the name “Prāsaṅgika” is used. In their investigation, it is indeed the case that existence by way of characteristics is not accepted even on the conventional level. And for this reason, there is absolutely no call to say that nonthings like “disintegration” are functioning things on the conventional level, or that the mind is not self-knowing (even though everyone in the world, even cowherds, knows that it is).208

On the other hand, in the establishment of the figurative ultimate (which is simply the nonimplicative assertion of the emptiness of true existence), together with its assertions, the use of autonomous arguments—far from being inadmissible—is highly appropriate. And so on. Although one could continue with considerable elaboration, I shall dispense with all discussion that is not strictly to the point.

In brief, Prāsaṅgikas establish only the nonfigurative ultimate, which is free of all assertion. And all assertions on the conventional level are made in common with ordinary worldly people, who do not examine things. For the Prāsaṅgikas do not examine and speak about the conventional, making statements like the Svātantrikas do. The Svātantrikas, on the other hand, emphasize the figurative ultimate and make statements accordingly. And in accordance with their manner of explanation, they mainly use autonomous arguments. Following such examination, they make statements about phenomena that are validly established on the conventional level, and so on. But a detailed exposition of this is to be found elsewhere.209

When the texts of the Prāsaṅgikas and Svātantrikas are examined just as they are, those who are incapable of understanding the matter in a broad inclusive way are at least able to see that, of all the Svātantrika texts, there is not one that does not distinguish between the figurative and nonfigurative ultimates, whereas, in all the Prāsaṅgika texts, this manner of explanation is absent.

Otherwise, if what the Prāsaṅgika texts set forth were no more than the figurative ultimate, it would be necessary to say that, of the Prāsaṅgikas and Svātantrikas, the view of the latter is superior. For everyone must accept that the highest ultimate is the nonfigurative ultimate: the object of the primordial wisdom of the noble ones. And the Svātantrika texts do indeed show that this nonfigurative ultimate is the most perfect ultimate.210 Consequently, if the Prāsaṅgika texts are not talking about this same (nonfigurative) ultimate, and if they are doing no more than propounding the figurative ultimate, it would follow that for them the figurative ultimate is considered to be the highest.211 It should instead be understood that the views of the great charioteers of both Prāsaṅgika and Svātantrika with regard to the highest ultimate are indistinguishable.

Whatever position one may wish to demonstrate, simply to state it, declaring it to be different from other discordant views, neither proves nor disproves anything. It is only by relying on the absolute certainty supplied by scripture and reasoning that one establishes one’s own position and becomes skilled in tearing out the brambles of the counterarguments adduced by one’s opponents. Instead of just belittling the contrary position, one should base oneself on definite, crucial points, and thereby demonstrate the faults present in the opposing view of one’s adversary. But if, on seeing that he has been worsted (because his reasoning is false and his interpretation of scripture mistaken), a disputant loses his temper with his interlocutor and exultantly declares that he is the one who has hit the crucial point—speaking with the weapons of his words but without the weapon of reasoning—such “confidence,” when the learned see it, only makes them laugh.

Therefore, when something is defective—in any tradition—it remains a mistake, whether one argues about it or not. And, being mistaken, it becomes a source of confusion for everyone. On the other hand, a correct explanation—whether of one’s own tradition or someone else’s—is like an eye, a means by which everyone can see. Therefore, armed with the four reliances, we should abandon the attitude of biased attachment to one’s own school and aversion for that of others. If, with a view only to the doctrine of the Conqueror, we examine all such traditions with reasoning based on factual evidence, one’s intelligence, thus applied, will become a means of nurturing the immaculate teachings of the Buddha, so that, both now and in the time to come, every excellence will naturally arise for all beings without exception.

In the limpid ocean of my mind, untroubled

By an attitude of scorn and hate for others,

The fixed and moving stars

Of reasoning derived from evidence appeared.

These occurred as fruits of excellent connections.

As I call to mind repeatedly the kindness of

The holy beings of the school of Ancient Translations,

Who excellently teach the Dharma-treasure of the Supreme Vehicle—

And are but the display of him who glows with golden light

The young sun in its rising,

My teacher ever youthful, gentle, and melodious—

The forest of the vines of hairs within my pores is stirred.

The tiny child that is my mind

Runs skipping in the footsteps of those holy ones.

By these good efforts to express, in some slight way, their teaching,

May the Doctrine of the Conqueror, the Supreme Vehicle spread,

And may the aims of holy beings who uphold it be fulfilled.

May the wishes of all beings in the world be turned to Dharma,

And may the enlightened actions of the Lake-Born Guru prosper.

This is an answer to the critique composed by Drakar Tulku, pure of heart, in the place of Dharma that is like a heaped-up pile of white rice (Drepung). It was penned by the Nyingma monk Mipham Namgyal, while he slumbered a few years in mountain solitudes, staying on a vast mountain, white in all directions, with his hair grown long and matted. He composed it in the space of ten days during the month of Saga, in the earth ox year of the fifteenth rabjung cycle (1889). He wrote quickly in the intervals between his meditation sessions beginning on the fourth day and completing it on the thirteenth.

Mangala shriyo bhavatu!