THE ANTICHRIST
By
Friedrich Nietzsche
Translation: H.L. Mencken
20.
In my condemnation of
Christianity I surely hope I do no injustice to a related
religion with an even larger number of believers: I allude to
Buddhism. Both are to be reckoned among the
nihilistic religions--they are both
decadence religions--but they are separated from each other in a very remarkable way. For the fact that he is able to compare them at all the critic of
Christianity is indebted to the scholars of India.--
Buddhism is a hundred times as realistic as
Christianity--it is part of its living heritage that it is able to face
problems objectively and coolly; it is the product of long centuries of philosophical speculation. The concept, "
God," was already disposed of before it appeared.
Buddhism is the only genuinely positive
religion to be encountered in
history, and this applies even to its epistemology (which is a strict phenomenalism) --It does not speak of a "struggle with sin," but,
yielding to reality, of the "struggle with suffering." Sharply differentiating it
self from
Christianity, it puts the
self-deception that lies in moral concepts be hind it; it is, in my phrase,beyond
good and
evil.--The two physiological facts upon which it grounds it
self and upon which it bestows its chief attention are: first, an
excessive sensitiveness to sensation, which manifests it
self as a refined susceptibility to pain, and secondly, an extraordinary
spirituality, a too protracted concern with concepts and logical procedures, under the influence of which the instinct of personality has
yielded to a notion of the "impersonal." (--Both of these states will be familiar to a few of my
readers, the objectivists, by experience, as they are to me). These physiological states produced a depression, and
Buddha tried to combat it by hygienic measures. Against it he prescribed a life in the open, a life of travel; moderation in eating and a careful selection of foods; caution in the use of intoxicants; the same caution in arousing any of the passions that foster a bilious habit and heat the blood; finally, no worry, either on one's own account or on account of others. He encourages ideas that make for either quiet contentment or
good cheer--he finds means to combat ideas of other sorts. He understands
good, the state of
goodness, as something which promotes health. Prayer is not included, and neither is asceticism. There is no categorical imperative nor any disciplines, even within the walls of a monastery (--it is always possible to leave--). These things would have been simply means of increasing the
excessive sensitiveness above mentioned. For the same reason he does not advocate any conflict with unbelievers; his teaching is antagonistic to nothing so much as to revenge, aversion, ressentiment (--"enmity never brings an end to enmity": the moving refrain of all
Buddhism. . .) And in all this he was right, for it is precisely these passions which, in view of his main regiminal purpose, are unhealthful. The mental fatigue that he observes, already plainly displayed in too much "objectivity" (that is, in the individual's loss of interest in him
self, in loss of balance and of "
egoism"), he combats by strong efforts to lead even the
spiritual interests back to the ego. In
Buddha's teaching
egoism is a duty. The "one thing needful," the question "how can you be delivered from suffering," regulates and determines the whole
spiritual diet. (--Perhaps one will here recall that
Athenian who also declared war upon pure "scientificality," to wit, Socrates, who also elevated
egoism to the estate of a morality) .