Pathway to Japanese Literature

I. Two Qualifications of a Prophet

To understand Nichiren, one must not abandon the perspective of a prophet.
As was the case with Christ, as with Luther, and as with Nietzsche, he was a prophet of his age.
Merely viewing him as an ordinary high priest would not unravel his unique religious character.
A prophet is one who, with the awareness of embodying the Law in their person, authoritatively calls out to their age and demands the transformation of values.
It went without saying that a prophet had to possess religious insight united with cosmic truth; but beyond this, they also needed—above all—an acute concern for their contemporary age, incisive criticism of it, and instinctive ardor akin to flames burning for it.
It was not enough to be faithfully impartial to universally valid truths; one also had to possess that “ardent heart”—indeed, one that compelled self-sacrifice for fellow beings, even at the cost of what Nietzsche called decline—born of love for one’s own time.
He had to live perpetually driven—as if by the imperative summons of eternal truth and the stirrings of instinctive love for his own age—crying out, preaching, and struggling.
He lived out his life frantically rushing about, enduring hunger and solitude amid persecution, all while weeping both for the lament over truth’s inaccessibility and for compassionate love shared in universal sorrow.
“There is not a day when Nichiren does not shed tears,” he said.

Nichiren was among Japan's eminent monks who possessed the most quintessentially Japanese character. In him, love for the Law and devotion to his homeland fused into a single blazing force. He was both a child of Buddha and a patriot of the nation. The twin pillars of his mission—reforming religious law and restoring national integrity—remained inseparably united within him. He and his disciples all adopted Dharma names beginning with the character for "sun" (日), consciously invoking the solar imagery of their homeland's name, Japan. Nurtured beneath what he called "Japan's earliest and most vibrant Pacific sunrise" along the Bōsō Peninsula's coast, he first chanted his foundational invocation—"Devotion to the Mystic Law of the Lotus Sutra"—facing that same sunrise atop Mount Kiyosumi. "I shall become Japan's pillar," he proclaimed. "The glory of this name belongs foremost to Japan! Just as the sun rises in the east to illuminate the west, so flows nature's immutable principle—who dares defy it?" He declared this natural order absolute, further asserting: "Our Japan surpasses even Kushan and Cathay, excelling all eighty thousand lands!" Within him already burned the grand spirit of "Light from the East," making him Japanese nationalism's primordial herald—a religious ultranationalism seeking to rebuild the homeland upon eternal truth.

His biographies are already numerous.

If I were to merely reproduce them here verbatim, it would likely prove of scant use. It could not rival consulting detailed biographies. Here—as one who resonates deeply with him today as a fellow religious Japanese nationalist—I wish to convey to the youths of this younger generation living in present-day Japan, through living insights and serviceable interpretations, both Nichiren’s essential character and my understanding of his distinctive features as perceived through my own eyes.

II. His Questions and Crisis

Nichiren was born in a desolate fishing village on the Bōsō Peninsula, washed by the waves of the Pacific Ocean.
“Nichiren is the son of a seaside outcast in Tōjō, Awa Province, located in the eastern region of Japan,” he wrote.
Seven hundred and fifteen years ago from now, on the sixteenth day of the second month of the fourth year of Emperor Go-Horikawa’s Jōkyū era [1222], he was born in Tōjō, Nagasa District, Awa Province, to Nukina Shigetada as his father and Ume Kiku as his mother, and was given the childhood name Zen'nichi-maro.

It is said that his parents were originally distinguished samurai who were exiled to Bōshū by the Hōjō clan and reduced to poverty as fishermen; however, he himself declared, “I am the child of outcasts among the rocks of Kataumi,” or “I am the son of Kataumi’s seafarers.”
In any case, by the time he was born and raised, his parents had established their “livelihood” as fishermen.
He must have been taken by his parents on numerous occasions, boarded a boat, and ventured into the rough sea.
In his fierce character, there could be seen—like Peter—the vigor of the sea wind.
Therefore, his childhood was scorched by the great ocean’s sun.
Therefore, the brand of “Child of the Sea” and “Child of the Sun” was stamped upon his character.
He favored expressions such as “I shall become the great ship of Japan.”
Moreover, his letters abound with similes of the sun—“like a mirror,” “like a polished metal mirror.”

Old biographies describe his childhood appearance as "a stern and resolute countenance with strikingly distinctive bearing and movements." He must have been a sturdy demon child with a stubborn disposition. And this demon child loved learning from an early age.

"As I have previously declared," he wrote, "from earliest youth I devoted my mind to scholarly pursuits and made this vow before the sacred image of the Great Kokūzō Bodhisattva: 'Deign to make me Japan’s foremost wise man.' From the age of twelve, I have established this vow."

Nichiren's departure to pursue monastic life sprang from an insatiable need for understanding. He craved crystalline wisdom capable of unraveling the doubts coiled within his heart.

What, then, was the tangled knot of doubt coiled within his innermost heart?

The first [question] was why those who were righteous and possessed legitimacy fell into ruin, while those who were unrighteous and lacked rightful standing prospered and seized power.

Those who consider the motivation behind Nichiren’s rise must never forget the Jōkyū War.
This ominous incident that violated Japan’s imperial order occurred just a year before Nichiren was born.
Despite being a subordinate vassal, Hōjō Yoshitoki attacked the Imperial Court and had Retired Emperors Go-Toba, Tsuchimikado, and Juntoku exiled to remote frontier islands.
And the court nobles who had served with sincere loyalty were slaughtered along the Tōkaidō highway under the pretext of being summoned to Kamakura for deliberation.
Thus did political power return firmly to the Hōjō clan’s grasp—with not a soul in all Japan daring protest—while the four social classes followed their example in unquestioning acceptance.
Historians of later ages like Rai Sanyō would cast aside their brushes in outrage, declaring “I cannot bear to speak of the Hōjō clan’s deeds,” yet in those days moral order stood inverted: the populace lacked awakened consciousness, and society universally groveled before power and profit while emulating its masters.
The disputes over manorial estates and the tyranny of land stewards stood as the age’s most glaring symptoms.

Nichiren's ancestors had already been demoted and fallen into ruin due to the Hōjō clan’s treachery despite their righteousness.
In Nichiren’s unclouded young heart—endowed with an upright nature and robust strength—this fact could not but take root as a profound doubt.
For nothing torments a pure childlike heart more than why evil triumphs over good.

He could not help but seek the ultimate principle governing both the world and human ethics.
Under his era’s intellectual paradigms, it was only natural he turned to Buddhism.
But what exactly constituted Buddhism?
The Buddhism of that time had fractured into eight or nine schools—Kusha, Ritsu, Shingon, Hossō, Sanron, Kegon, Jōdo, Zen—each proclaiming itself supreme while denouncing others.
For young Nichiren seeking truth unbound by tradition, this left him utterly adrift regarding which sect to embrace.
Moreover, such conflicting truth-claims inevitably bred skepticism about truth’s very nature—a universal dilemma across eras.
The situation mirrored Greece during Socrates’ youth.
These sects harbored Sophist-like scholars debating theory for its own sake; violent factions where doctrinal disputes turned physical; Zen groups rejecting scriptures while dismissing scholarship; Nenbutsu practitioners emphasizing instant salvation over moral discipline.

Could it truly be acceptable for the truth that should form the foundation of the world and human ethics to be fragmented into individual, subjective pieces, knowing no proper destination?

This was Nichiren’s second doubt.

Moreover, from Nichiren’s childhood onward, heaven-sent calamities and earthly disasters struck incessantly.
Famines ravaged successive years during the Kangi and Jōei eras, leaving peasants collapsed along roadsides; tempestuous winds and floods battered Kamakura’s lands, claiming both people and livestock; meteor showers pelted Ōshū like rain; midsummer blizzards smothered Mino; and uncanny birds flocked within Kamakura’s palace halls—such was the ominous state of affairs.
Nichiren sensed the social order teetering toward collapse.
Moreover, beyond Japan’s shores, the Mongols—who had unified China and swept across Europe—now fixed their gaze upon the nation.

Such conditions of the age could not help but provoke piercing doubts in young Nichiren.
He vehemently sought the foundational truth that would rectify both the causes of global calamities and correct the nation's chaos and moral inversion.

His prayer—"Deign to make me Japan's foremost wise man"—sprang not from desires for fame or pedantic display, but wholly from the need to rectify himself and set right the world.

What constitutes virtue? What births catastrophe? By what sign may truth be known?
As with all great minds whose inquiries converge upon these questions, Nichiren too pursued these mysteries, embarking on his studies to seek enlightenment that might unravel them.

III. Pilgrimage and Founding the Sect

Nichiren, who ascended Mount Kiyosumi at age twelve seeking wisdom to save the world, devoted twenty years exclusively to contemplation and scholarly pursuit to resolve his doubts until he returned to Mount Kiyosumi in April at thirty-two years of age to proclaim the establishment of his sect.

The first teacher Nichiren served at Mount Kiyosumi, Dōzen-bō, was a mediocre yet well-meaning monk though compassionate, but he lacked the capacity to be a true spiritual mentor for Nichiren’s grand ambitions.

However, as the sutra collection was quite extensive, he ignited an intense zeal for study, fasted for three weeks to make a solemn vow, and—despite being exceptionally filial beyond ordinary measure—sent away his visiting mother without meeting her, pushing himself so hard that he eventually coughed up blood.

At sixteen, he descended from Mount Kiyosumi to study in Kamakura.
Kamakura stood then as the nexus of political and religious power.
During his five years there, he immersed himself in studying the doctrines and practices of the Zen and Pure Land sects—newly arrived and flourishing in Kamakura—while closely observing its political machinations.
His penetrating gaze discerned both the Zen sect's escapist withdrawal from society and the Pure Land sect's vulgar decadence,
He grasped the toxic nature of Kamakura's power politics.
At twenty-one, he wrote *Treatise on Precept Substance and Attaining Buddhahood in This Very Body*, systematically refuting Hōnen's Nenbutsu teachings.

That year, he turned to Mount Hiei, and with it as his base, toured the mountain temples of the capital region—Nanto, Kōya, Tennō-ji, Onjō-ji, and others—studying each sect’s esoteric doctrines for over a decade. Meticulously accumulating reflection and experience, he waited for his wisdom to swell and ripen before returning to Mount Kiyosumi in March at thirty-two years of age.

Thus, like Zarathustra weighted by burgeoning wisdom and power, Nichiren—charged with resolve—finally founded his sect on April 28, 1253, in the Asahi Forest atop Mount Kiyosumi. At the precise instant he witnessed the sun of the eastern sea surge like molten metal above the horizon, he thundered “Devotion to the Mystic Law of the Lotus Sutra,” resolved to proclaim the truth he had grasped.

He identified the corruption of Buddhist Law as the root cause behind royal law's disorder.
“When Buddhist Law’s distinction between truth and falsehood becomes muddled, royal law too shall gradually perish.”
“Should this persist, ‘ultimately this nation will be crushed by foreign powers and perish.’”
This constituted Nichiren’s patriotic anguish.
Therefore, to bring peace to the nation required establishing righteous Law.
This formed the doctrinal foundation of his *Treatise on Spreading Peace Through Righteousness*.

The reason natural disasters struck incessantly across the land lay in righteous Law’s corruption causing royal law’s decline; this decline defiled society, whose polluted essence itself provoked heaven’s wrath.

“Since Buddhist Law has gradually become inverted, the world too has fallen into defilement.”
“Buddhist Law is like the body; the world is like its shadow.”
“If the body bends, the shadow slants.”

Therefore, the path to securing royal law and saving the people had to take rectifying Buddhist Law as its foundation.

Then what was the Buddha’s true Law?

According to Nichiren, it must be established as the orthodox sect through the Lotus Sutra.

For this reason: the Lotus Sutra was a definitive sutra, whereas all other sutras—beginning with the Kegon Sutra, Dainichi Sutra, and Kanmuryōju Sutra, encompassing those of past, present, and future—were provisional sutras.
However, as stated in the Nirvana Sutra: “Rely on definitive sutras; do not rely on provisional sutras.”

Therefore, if one believed in the Buddha’s testament, one should take the Lotus Sutra as a clear mirror and discern the essence of all sutras.
Therefore, when one reverently opened the text of the Lotus Sutra, it stated: "This Lotus Sutra ranks supreme among all sutras."

Moreover, since the Nirvana Sutra states, "Rely on the Law, not on persons," one had to rely solely on the sutras rather than on human teachers.
Therefore, what one must rely upon were sutras—and only the Lotus Sutra as the definitive sutra.
All existing eight or ten sects that relied on other Bodhisattvas, human teachers, or provisional sutras were entirely heretical.

The error of established sects lay in mistaking the Buddha’s expedient provisional teachings for the true teaching.
The Buddha’s true teaching existed nowhere but in the Lotus Sutra.
The original intent of the Buddha’s advent into this world had lain in expounding the Lotus Sutra.
The *Immeasurable Meanings Sutra* stated: “For over forty [years], [I] have yet to reveal the truth.”
To disregard this Buddha’s golden words could not be permitted.
The *Lotus Sutra*’s “Expedient Means” chapter states: “Among all Buddhas of the ten directions, there exists only the Law of the One Vehicle—no second, nor third.”

The Buddha’s true Law is found solely in the Lotus Sutra.
All other established sects, because they are based on provisional and non-definitive sutras, are entirely incapable of attaining enlightenment.

The above constituted the fundamental essence of Nichiren’s doctrinal arguments.

Nichiren, demonstrating this doctrinal argument by citing various sutras one by one, expounded it without reserve before his teacher, the steward, his parents, fellow monks, and the assembly in the South Hall of Mount Kiyosumi.

“The Nenbutsu leads to Avīci Hell!”
“Zen is demonic!”
“Shingon will ruin the nation!”
“Ritsu is traitorous!”
“All established sects are causes for falling into hell!” he declared.

The crowd was stunned.
His teacher and parents turned pale.
The followers of the various sects were outraged.
Among them, Steward Tōjō Kagenobu—a Pure Land believer—seethed with wrath, forming an undying grudge that lasted his entire life.
He pressured the priest Dōzen-bō and compelled him to expel Nichiren from Mount Kiyosumi.

The circumstances of this moment vividly evoke for us Luther’s stand at Worms.

“Though Reverend Dōzen-bō was my teacher,” Nichiren later wrote in *The Honzon Mondōshō*, “he feared the steward because of the Lotus Sutra. While he may have privately deemed this unjust, outwardly he treated me as an enemy.”

Expelled from Mount Kiyosumi, Nichiren first began repaying his debts of gratitude by leading his parents to embrace the Lotus Sutra—bestowing upon his father the Buddhist name Myōnichi and his mother Myōren—before finally setting forth on the path of propagation he had long intended toward Kamakura.

IV. The Correspondence of Time and the Law

The prophetic nature of Nichiren’s actions stood vividly revealed through his principle of correspondence between time and the Law.
He found no satisfaction in expounding universally valid truths through timeless abstraction, applicable uniformly across all eras.
His thought carried particular emphasis on one era—specifically the age in which he himself lived.
That is to say, he sought to convey historical truth itself.

He came to recognize his mission as one born to fulfill Śākyamuni’s prophecies.
Just as Jesus of Nazareth had identified himself as the Christ to actualize Isaiah’s prophecies,
Śākyamuni’s own predictions declared: after the Buddha’s passing—divided into five-hundred-year epochs—through the thousand-year Age of True Dharma and thousand-year Age of Semblance Dharma, when in this fifth period of the Latter Day’s five hundred years “within my Law, disputes and litigations will arise, causing the White Dharma to vanish (*Mahāvaipulya Mahāsamghāta Sūtra*)”, one must preserve the Great White Dharma of the Lotus Sutra as recorded: “Spread it widely throughout Jambudvīpa without allowing cessation (*Lotus Sutra*, ‘Medicine King’ chapter).”
Furthermore, as stated in the Lotus Sutra’s “Encouraging Devotion” chapter: “If there be those in the latter five-hundred-year age of impurity and evil who uphold this sutra, I shall guard them, remove their calamities, and grant them peace.”

The current era was the Latter Day of the Law, an age of defilement and impurity; this very time and its social conditions had reached the exact appointed hour for proclaiming the Lotus Sutra.
What could save this present age was none other than the Lotus Sutra.
Nichiren resolved to identify himself as Jōgyō Bosatsu of the Original Teaching prophesied in the Buddha’s words and declared himself to be “the foremost sage of Jambudvīpa.”

Nichiren's such self-conviction could not escape being seen as dogmatic and arrogant when viewed solely through lenses like universally valid scientific truth or humility as conventional morality.
Yet once we shift our perspective to stand within a world governed by Nietzschean undertones—a realm ruled by intuitive grasp attuned to power dynamics and noble virtue—Nichiren's dogma, his unyielding pride, and even his paranoid obstinacy become profoundly compelling.
We must never demand that prophets assume the posture of scientists.

To the doctrinal arguments with which he refuted other sects, one could theoretically raise numerous objections.
However, for those of us who are not adherents of Nichiren Buddhism, it is not his doctrines that hold primary interest here, but rather the historical significance of his convictions and activities—along with the unique nuances of his character, conduct, and humanity that become our focus.

The imprint of Nichiren’s character and actions has repeatedly evoked Zarathustra in our minds.
He galloped like thunder and lightning, swept away enemies like a tempest; when one expected him to strike violently like a waterfall, he would retreat into mountain solitude like a divine eagle.
He was a man of superhuman character rarely seen in Japan—possessing fervor, solitary nobility, unyielding integrity, and a love for the masses that moved him to tears.

V. Treatise on Spreading Peace Through Righteousness

Upon arriving in Kamakura, Nichiren built a hermitage in Matsubagayatsu, established it as his headquarters by unfurling the banner of the Law, and commenced his doctrinal campaign.
His propagation bore a combative spirit from its inception.
By day, he stood at Komachi’s street corner and expounded the Lotus Sutra to passersby.
One could easily envision his preaching style being marked by prophetic gestures.
He spoke “like one vested with authority,” denounced established sects, lamented societal decay, and raged at both Buddhist and secular laws lying in ruins; then he erected the True Law to stabilize the nation and thundered forth the Lion’s Roar—the path to deliver the people.
Jeers erupted instantly as tiles and stones rained down.
Yet even while eyeing him suspiciously and hurling abuse, the crowd found themselves drawn in; gradually pierced by his ardor, they were swayed.
Come nightfall, people began seeking teachings at his hermitage.
He devoted himself ceaselessly—chanting daimoku by candlelight, instructing converts, preaching doctrines, composing texts through dawn’s first light.
His fervor spread through the masses like wildfire; as it overwhelmed them, his street sermons escalated into a capital “event.”

It was only natural that persecution by the established sects would arise.
It was only natural that this would also stir the Kamakura Shogunate to alarm.

The prophecy that "those who spread the Lotus Sutra shall inevitably face three types of adversaries—persecutions of 'being driven from temples,' 'verbal abuse and slander,' and 'swords, staves, tiles, and stones'" was now manifesting exactly as foretold.
And Nichiren had naturally anticipated this; rather, he rejoiced in it for the pride of upholding the Lotus Sutra.

Thus three years passed. Across the Kantō region, strange celestial and terrestrial phenomena began occurring incessantly. In the first year of the Shōka era [1257], a great earthquake. In the second year of the same era [1258], a great storm. In the third year of the same era [1259], a great famine. In the first year of Shōgen [1259] through the second year [1260], a great epidemic raged: “Spanning all four seasons without cease, it claimed over half the populace.” Nichiren, observing the state of the world and thoroughly examining the entire Buddhist canon, succeeded in grasping its doctrinal principles and textual evidence. Ultimately compelled to draft a formal petition, he titled it *Treatise on Spreading Peace Through Righteousness*. On July 16, Bun’ō era [1260], he entrusted it to Yatono Nyūdō and submitted it to the lay priest of Kōmyō-ji (Hōjō Tokiyori). This was solely to repay the debt of gratitude to the nation. (*On the Origins of the Ankoku Ron Deliberation*)

This was the first of Nichiren’s three great remonstrations with the nation.

This concept of Nichiren’s “debt of gratitude to the nation” is something that we, Japan’s intellectual class today, must newly and urgently reflect upon and reaffirm.
We are born into a concrete community—a nation—and are provided with the food, clothing, and spiritual culture necessary for its maintenance, thereby maturing.
The foundation of a community lies in parents, clan, and the concrete unit that jointly shares blood, land, language, customs, and defense—that is the nation.
When reflecting on the meaning of coexistence through lived experience, one must inevitably base it on parents and extend it to the nation.
And we cannot forget the teachers and mentors who bestowed cultural traditions upon us.
Nichiren profoundly cherished throughout his life the kindness of his parents, the guidance of his teachers, and the blessings of his nation.
At first glance, this may appear to be a feudalistic old ideology, but it is by no means such.
Recent ideologies of a shared destiny community have begun re-examining this anew.
To lack living concern for one’s nation—this has been the greatest failure of awareness among this country’s educated youth until now.
Now, a new transformation is underway.

However, even Nichiren’s ardent, patriotic counsel found no acceptance with the Kamakura Shogunate, and no official response was ever issued.
Not only that, but this served as the catalyst, and on the night of the twenty-eighth day of the following month, his Matsubagayatsu hermitage was set ablaze in an act of religious persecution.

“Since he was a monk not in the state’s service, they likely reasoned that even if he erred, no punishment would follow—so it is said that Nenbutsu followers and their patrons, along with certain influential figures, conspired. In the dead of night, several thousand people swarmed Nichiren’s hermitage intending to kill him, yet somehow he managed to escape harm that night.”
(*On Descending the Mountain*)

The phrase "certain influential figures" refers to high-ranking officials of the Kamakura Shogunate.
They did not act directly themselves, but instead colluded with local ringleaders and incited the crowd.

Nichiren temporarily took refuge from persecution at the residence of the lay devotee Tomiki in Shimōsa-Nakayama, where he was expounding the Lotus Sutra.

VI. Successive Persecutions

Nichiren’s fighting spirit did not waver.
After a hundred days, he returned once more to Kamakura, rebuilt his Matsubagayatsu temple, and with even greater blazing resolve than before, appeared at Komachi no Tsuji to denounce the Shogunate’s governance and proselytize against the established sects.
Nichiren’s preaching, having already grasped the moment perfectly suited to the era and social climate, could not fail to strike deeply into the hearts of the masses.
All the more so for he who was conscious of being the Bodhisattva Superior Practices—lamenting the nation, grieving for the world, sparks flying from his tongue in a surge of selfless fervor—how could the flames fail to ignite in the hearts of the encircling crowd?
His followers increased in number, and the repercussions grew greater.
Therefore, on the twelfth day of the fifth month in the first year of Kōchō [1261], shogunate officials suddenly arrested him while he was preaching on the streets of Komachi, placed him on a ship from Yuigahama, and exiled him to Ito in Izu Province.
This was his second religious persecution.

This exile internally strengthened Nichiren’s faith. He rejoiced at having found time amidst the tumult of religious battles to chant the daimoku day and night, and wrote to his devotee Kudō Yoshitaka, Lord of Amatsu Castle, that reciting the Lotus Sutra in every waking moment was life’s greatest joy. Two years later, Nichiren was pardoned and returned to Kamakura. He, a man prepared for martyrdom through religious persecution, found himself constantly thinking of his hometown; thirteen years after being driven from Kiyosumi, he turned his thoughts to his mother in his homeland. His father had passed away during his Iwamoto incarceration; this homecoming served both to visit his grave and return to his hometown.

“It is certain that I will meet my death resented for this Dharma teaching.”
“I resolved to descend once more to my hometown to see those dear to me, and on the third day of the tenth month in the first year of Bun’ei [1264], I went down to Awa Province for over thirty days.” (Hakii Gosho)

At that very time, while the mother was gravely ill, Nichiren healed her through fervent prayer.
Nichiren was deeply filial.
He would later write of this during his seclusion at Minobu, but this profound emotion pierces us to the core with its sincerity.
Even now at Awa Tanjō-ji, there exist wooden statues of the parents carved by Nichiren himself.
He had carved them to ensure their posthumous blessings.

Carving the visage of his mortal parents in wood, he could only press his brow to the earth and weep.

This is a poem I wrote years past when I beheld those wooden effigies.

During this homecoming, Nichiren met his former teacher Dōzen-bō at Mount Kiyosumi and, while recognizing that the man’s complaints should not be heeded, earnestly admonished him to return wholeheartedly to the Lotus Sutra.
Nichiren’s courtesy and affection as a disciple toward Dōzen were a thing of surpassing beauty in this world, and it is precisely because of this single matter that I cannot express how profoundly I revere and love Nichiren.
Even while addressing his mediocre teacher as “Master Dōzen-bō,” he revered and cherished until life’s end—even after retiring to Minobu—this instructor who “outwardly treated him as a hated enemy.”
The profound gratitude that moved Nichiren—gratitude toward parents, teachers, and nation—was something coldly dismissed by modern intellectuals, yet it now comes to be regarded most highly as the fundamental bond of a community bound by shared destiny.

However, in the very next month, on the eleventh day of the eleventh month, Nichiren indeed faced yet another great religious persecution and narrowly escaped death.

In response to an invitation from Kudō Yoshitaka, Lord of Amatsu Castle, while Nichiren was en route, the land steward Tōjō Kagenobu—intending to settle a years-old grudge—personally led his men and ambushed them at Komatsubara in Awa Province.

The disciple Kyōnin-bō uprooted a pine tree to mount a defense but fell in battle. Kudō Yoshitaka, hearing of the danger, rushed to the scene and fought valiantly; however, overwhelmed by numbers, he ultimately succumbed to his wounds and perished.

Nichiren miraculously survived with his life intact, though he sustained a head wound and broke his left hand.

Nichiren praised Kudō Yoshitaka’s martyrdom for the Lotus Sutra, buried him with the rites befitting a great monk, and bestowed upon him the Dharma name Hōgyoku Shōnin.
At Kyōnin-bō’s grave, they planted the “Offering Pine.”

Through this persecution, Nichiren gained confidence as a practitioner of the Lotus Sutra in a manner that aligned with its teachings.
Nichiren gained the resolve to boldly declare himself “Japan’s foremost practitioner of the Lotus Sutra.”
How profoundly Nichiren revered and appreciated the martyrdom of Yoshitaka and Kyōnin-bō during this Komatsubara persecution is manifest in his letters, which shine forth as radiant spiritual writings—yet here, we lack the space to quote them.
As will be discussed later, Nichiren was a prose master of rare caliber.

From this religious persecution until around the time of the Mongol Invasions in Bun’ei 5 [1268], Nichiren’s surroundings remained relatively calm and peaceful for three or four years.
During this time, his religious influence spread to various places in Kantō.

VII. Prophecy of the Mongol Invasions

Nichiren had earlier prophesied the calamity of foreign invasion in his Risshō Ankoku Ron (Treatise on Spreading Peace Through Righteousness) to admonish the shogunate authorities, but they had dismissed it with derisive laughter; this prophecy came to pass when Mongol envoys arrived in the first month of Bun’ei 5 (1268) bearing a state letter that threatened the shogunate.

“The Risshō Ankoku Ron (Treatise on Spreading Peace Through Righteousness) that I, Nichiren, composed in the first year of Bun’ō [1260] did not deviate in the slightest and came to pass exactly as foretold.”
This treatise surpasses Bai Juyi’s Yuefu poetry and does not fall short of the Buddha’s prophecies—what marvel in ages to come could possibly exceed this?
“(Various Writings on Noble Conduct)”

Nichiren expected that this time, at last, the Kamakura Shogunate would solicit his counsel, yet once again there was no response whatsoever.
Nichiren, resolved there and then, proactively wrote eleven exhortations of his own accord and sent them to the Kamakura Shogunate's key figures and leading religious authorities, openly challenging them to engage in a formal confrontational debate.

This could not be overlooked due to his profound patriotic sentiment, and it also demonstrated just how fiercely intense and impassioned his character was.
And yet, in these critical times for Japan today, I cannot help but yearn for a spiritual apostle of such blazing passion.

The authorities and various sects were appalled.
Among them, Ryōkan of Gokuraku-ji Temple slandered Nichiren as one who plotted political subversion under religious pretext.
Given the tense times, the authorities’ nerves had become razor-sharp, and so they finally resolved to sentence the monk—whose unsettling words and deeds disturbed public order—to exile.

Since the Jōei Code prohibited clergy executions, they planned to ostensibly exile him while secretly intending his beheading at Tatsunokuchi.

Nichiren remained composed even at this critical moment.
His spirit of martyrdom for the Lotus Sutra reached its zenith.

“How fortunate! To cast away this body for the Lotus Sutra.”
“If I discard this foul head, it is like exchanging sand for gold and stones for jewels.”
“(Various Writings on Noble Conduct)”

Before being taken to the execution grounds, as he was paraded through Kamakura on horseback, Nichiren halted his horse upon reaching Wakamiya Hachiman Shrine and issued an allegorical admonition to Hachiman Daibosatsu—so imbued with authority it seemed divinely inspired.

“Are you truly a divine being, Hachiman Daibosatsu?” he began.
He rebuked the deity: “When Śākyamuni preached the Lotus Sutra—when buddhas and bodhisattvas from all directions gathered like suns aligned with suns, moons with moons, stars with stars, mirrors with mirrors—you vowed before that assembly to protect practitioners of this sutra. Yet now when duty demands you save Nichiren from peril, why do you fail to appear?”

One cannot help but marvel at the authority with which he rebuked the deities.

Seeing Shijō Kingo—who had rushed to the scene upon hearing of the emergency—clinging to his horse and weeping, Nichiren encouraged him: “This is what I have prayed for these past years.” “In this Saha world, when one becomes a pheasant, they are seized by hawks; when one becomes a mouse, they are devoured by cats. Countless times have we cast aside our lives for spouses and children, lost our domains to enemies—more than the dust of the earth.” “For the Lotus Sutra, not once has anything been lost.” “Therefore, having been born into this humble existence as I, Nichiren, I have failed to fulfill filial piety toward my parents and lacked the power to repay the nation’s benevolence.” “This time, I shall dedicate my head to the Lotus Sutra, transfer its merit to my parents, and distribute what remains to my disciples and lay supporters.”

Having said this, Nichiren rebuked Lord Saemon-no-jō for his grief-stricken agitation:

“How undiscerning you are, my lord! Laugh at such joy as this! …Each of you, resolve yourselves fully! To exchange this body for the Lotus Sutra is like trading stones for gold and dung for rice!”

Thus they reached Tatsunokuchi’s storm-lashed shore. As the blade neared Nichiren’s neck, an uncanny light flared—and while the executioners faltered in confusion, a reprieve-bearing envoy galloped from Kamakura, abruptly commuting his sentence to exile on Sado.

On the tenth day of the tenth month in Bun’ei 8 [1271], Nichiren departed from Echi in Sagami Province for his exile in Sado. Eighteen days later, he arrived in Sado and sent a letter to his disciple Nikkō, who was confined in an earthen cell in Kamakura.

Nichiren arrived at Sado on December 28th.
On November 1st, from the house behind Rokurōzaemon’s residence in the mountain wilds called Tsukahara—a place where corpses were discarded like at Rendaino in Luoyang—there stood a one-ken-square hall without any Buddha.
The roof had gaps between its planks; the four walls stood bare; snow fell and piled up without melting.
In such a place, he spread out a hide, donned a straw coat to endure the nights and pass the days.
Night brought relentless snow, hail, thunder, and lightning.
By day, the sunlight did not permit even a glimmer to pierce through—a dwelling fit to crush one’s spirit.

Such were the days and nights of desolate loneliness.

To Sado—where Emperor Juntoku had been exiled following the Jōkyū War—Nichiren, who had risen in indignation against this perversion of justice, was now himself exiled by the very same Hōjō clan: such was fate.

“The people of that island, being wild barbarians who do not even comprehend the principle of causality—the harsh treatment I endured there defies description.”

“The clergy and laity of that land bore deeper resentment than even the men and women of Sagami Province.”
“Abandoned in the wild fields to mingle my flesh with snow, I plucked grasses to sustain my life.”

Amidst such privation and desolation, Nichiren composed the two-volume *Kaimokushō*.

Regarding this work, he himself declared, “The essence of this text determines Japan’s very existence through Nichiren,” and “Nichiren is the soul of Japan,” making it his definitive manifesto that reveals both the Buddha’s prophecies and the true intent of his transformative teachings.
His unyielding spirit, even in this barren wilderness, never relinquished its mission and pride as a practitioner of the Lotus Sutra and guardian of the homeland.

After two and a half years in exile on Sado, in March of Bun'ei 11 [1274], Nichiren was pardoned and returned to Kamakura.
Yet on April 8th of the following year, when Nichiren met with Taira no Saemon-no-jō, he once again warned of an impending foreign invasion.
“Around what time do you suppose the Great Mongol Empire will advance upon us?” asked Taira no Saemon-no-jō.
Nichiren declared: “Observing the heavenly signs with reverence, does not heaven glare upon this land with unparalleled intensity?”
“I am certain they will not come this year,” he declared boldly.
Taira no Saemon-no-jō, for his part, did not utter a single word and wore a displeased expression.

However, in October, this prophecy indeed came to pass.

He recounted his state of mind at this decisive assertion: “It was not I, Nichiren, who spoke, but solely through the divine spirit of Shakyamuni Buddha that had entered and replaced my body.” My very being overflowed with joy. He writes, “This is the profound doctrine of the Lotus Sutra known as Ichinen Sanzen—Three Thousand Realms in a Single Moment of Life.” Such a singular fact of religious experience can neither be denied nor affirmed objectively. It can only remain as a humble task for future psychical research. Yet the biographical contours of Nichiren’s singular character possess an allure as inexhaustible as a spring’s bubbling waters.

VIII. Seclusion at Minobu

Nichiren's final remonstration ultimately went unheeded.
At this moment, Nichiren’s heart had already reached a profound resolution.

“If I remonstrate three times and am not heeded, I will withdraw to seclude myself in the mountains.”

This was Nichiren’s resolve.
After all, he was a prophet nurtured by Eastern blood and spirit.
The pure yet desolate resignation of sages who retreat to mountains when disillusioned by humanity also dwelled within him.
To observe Nichiren—this battler who screamed through debates and proselytized through forceful conversion—and mistake him for some crude soul unaware of refined subtlety or untouched by solitude’s depths would be profoundly misguided.

The Kamakura Shogunate’s high officials had at last begun harboring both dread and reverence toward Nichiren. They abandoned intimidation tactics and turned instead to courting him through concessions.
“Should you permanently halt your suppression of rival sects from this day onward,” they proposed, “we shall construct Aizen Hall west of Kamakura Castle and endow it with a thousand chō of temple lands for monastic sustenance—through which we would conduct prayers for national stability and Mongol subjugation.”
To this Nichiren solemnly countered: “If you truly desire prayers for peace and foreign conquests’ success, first outlaw heretical doctrines.”
“Establishing righteousness forms peace’s very foundation.”
“I seek only true Dharma—not official titles.”
“How could I ever barter Buddha’s sacred decree for worldly rank?”

Having declared this, he flatly rejected the temptation.
Tokimune exclaimed, “Ah, Nichiren is truly a man of indomitable spirit.
It is fitting indeed that he calls himself an envoy of the Buddha,” and in May of Bun’ei 11 [1274], he issued an official permit for proselytization, designating Nichiren as “a venerable monk whose rarity shall endure through future generations—what school could ever compare?”
He granted a protective edict for upholding the Law that declared, “Propagate throughout Japan without hindrance.”

However, Nichiren did not rejoice; to praise the propagation of teachings without establishing the True Law was mere flattery.
A world that cannot attain dawn is one in an age of decay.
Rather than continue associating with heretical sects and proselytizing, he concluded there was no choice but to retreat to the mountains for a time—and thus finally departed for Mount Minobu in Kai Province.

This was the ascetic practice that elevated and beautified Nichiren’s entire life. Indeed, the misconception that Nichiren was a combative, fanatical figure—at times arrogant, reveling in tempests with a rough-hewn character—was utterly dispelled by the nine years of tranquil seclusion at Minobu and the multitude of exquisitely tender, beautiful, and moving letters he wrote during that time to followers across the provinces, patrons, and people from his hometown. At the same time, one could not help but feel a sense of wonder at how his twenty-two years of lion-like struggle—from the founding of his sect until age fifty-three—could have arisen from such a gentle and beautiful heart. Indeed, in Nichiren we witness a living testament to how one who is supremely gentle can, through pure, single-minded fervor, become as fierce as flames and as violent as a waterfall. How immense a source of gratitude and hope this was to me then!

Nichiren indeed wrote profoundly moving literary works during his seclusion at Minobu.
With boundless fondness, I wish to let his own words speak to the extent these pages permit.

"On May 12th, he departed Kamakura and ventured into Kai Province."
The stifling journey saw him ascend peaks as if receiving the sun and moon upon his brow.
When he descended into valleys, it was like entering subterranean caves.
Torrential rivers barred passage to boats; great stones hurtled downstream like arrows finding their mark.
Paths narrowed to rope-like threads.
Thick vegetation swallowed the way entirely.
To seek entry into such realms spoke of no shallow karmic imprint.
Yet though the path defied mortal endurance—Shakyamuni Buddha guiding his hand, Indra becoming his steed, Brahma standing at his side, the very sun and moon replacing his eyes’ light—through such divine intercession did he reach Hakii Village in Kai Province on the seventeenth day of that same month [May 1274].
Meeting Hakii-dono brought him profound joy, yet the vow exchanged—"In this life Yoshinaga shall serve beyond his flesh’s limits; in the next may the Saint save me"—transcended ordinary bonds. Could it be that Hakii-dono, like compassionate father and merciful mother merged into one, had taken pity by entering Nichiren’s very being?
"(Hakii-dono’s Letter)"

Thus, on June 17th, he finally entered Mount Minobu.
In the mountains, he chanted sutras and recited the daimoku, devoted himself to ascetic practices, taught his disciples to plant the seeds of the Law, composed writings, and resolved to transmit the Great Law for ten thousand generations to come.

Now, what kind of place was this sacred realm within Mount Minobu?

"As for this mountain's configuration... entering northwestward lies a deep mountain spanning over twenty *ri*. To the north stood Mount Minobu, to the south Mount Takatori, to the west Mount Shichimen, and to the east Mount Tenshi. It was as though four planks had been stood upright surrounding this area with four rivers flowing about: from north to south ran the Fuji River; from west to east, the Haya River—marking its rear boundary. At its forefront flowed the Hakii River from west to east, within which cascaded a single waterfall christened the Minobu River. Had they transplanted here the Vulture Peak of Central India? Or perhaps one might imagine Mount Tiantai of China brought to these lands? Amidst these four mountains and four rivers lay a flat expanse no broader than an outstretched palm. Here he erected a hermitage to shelter from heaven's rains, stripped bark from trees to fashion four walls, clothed himself in the hide of a self-slain deer; in spring he nourished his body with plucked bracken ferns, in autumn sustained his life by gathering fallen fruits."
"(Tsutsugoki Shō)"

Even in this modern age of convenient transportation, those who made the pilgrimage to Mount Minobu could not help but be astonished by the hardships and profound seclusion encountered along the way.
During the Kamakura period—an age when even roads remained undeveloped—the very act of seeking seclusion from Kamakura to Minobu was no ordinary feat achievable by common folk; this became immediately apparent if one undertook a pilgrimage to Minobu.

Above all, the winter cold must have been fearsome.

There were also letters describing snow piled one *jō* or even two *jō* high; in his letter to the Nun Mother of Ueno-dono, he wrote: "...the heavy snow accumulates, and the cold pierces.
The body grows cold as stone.
The chest grows cold as ice."

In such deep mountains, Nichiren performed ascetic practices for nine years from the age of fifty-three.

"In such circumstances, within the hermitage: by day, they ceaselessly discussed only the Lotus Sutra’s Law; by night, until dawn broke, voices solely recited essential passages."
...Even when mist rose and storms raged, he would enter the mountains to gather firewood, part dew-heavy grasses to descend into deep valleys and pick wild parsley, rinse greens in rapids where mountain streams raced over boulders—and in moments when sleeves grew salt-stiffened and dried with longing, one might wonder if even the fishermen of Waka Bay—those whom Yamabe no Akahito once sang of, casting their nets while brine dripped from their hands—had ever known such desolation.
"Mused endlessly until dreams wove themselves upon contemplation’s bed, then roused from slumber by the cry of a lovelorn deer…… (Minobu Mountain Writings)"

Such tender literary elegance was not something a rough ascetic monk could write.

In March of Kenji 2 [1276], when Nichiren received news of his former teacher Dōzen-bō’s passing, he was overwhelmed with grief. He composed two volumes of *Hōonshō* (Repaying Debts of Gratitude), had his disciple Hyūga deliver them to Bōshū Province, and directed that they be read before the grave: “Flowers return to their roots. The true essence remains in the soil.” He expressed gratitude for his teacher’s kindness, stating, “May this merit gather upon the person of the late Dōzen-bō.”

Even more beautiful—and what I endlessly marvel at—is the letter he wrote in reply to Nun Shinnyo, its words recounting memories of his parents from his hometown.

“I have sent a bag of seaweed.”
“When I climbed the peak expecting to see seaweed growing, there was none—only bracken standing in rows.”
“When I descended into the valley and looked for laver growing, I must have been mistaken; only parsley grew thickly.”
“I had long forgotten matters of my hometown, but now upon seeing this laver, my unreasoning heart recalls them with sorrowful pain.”
“Katoumi and Ichika—it was by the rocky shores of a small harbor there that I once saw this laver long ago.”
“The color, shape, and taste remain unchanged—yet how bitterly I resent this altered fate that took my parents from me; my tears are impossible to hold back.”

It was a masterpiece of writing that seeps into the heart.
Precisely because he possessed such tender sensibilities could we not dismiss his past fiery battles for Shakubuku as mere brutishness.
Another thing one discerns upon reading all his correspondence was the thoroughness of his courtesy.
In the Shakubuku (forceful proselytization) practiced by Nichiren’s followers today, those lacking this sense of decorum are not few.
One could well imagine that Nichiren’s Shakubuku, however fierce it became, never descended into crudeness.
One must wield both tender compassion and rigorous etiquette while fighting as fiercely as he did for truth’s sake.
This becomes possible only through untainted purity of heart coupled with unswerving loyalty and fervor toward truth itself.

I cannot help but feel even greater respect for Nichiren’s bold dharma battles of yore as I touch upon the tenderness of his later years.

He climbed fifty chō of rugged cliffs in his overwhelming longing for home; gazing eastward beyond the clouds toward what might have been the shores of Bōshū Province, he would worship his parents' grave from afar and shed tears. To this day, Mount Minobu preserves this site as Shion-kaku.

"Though I need not newly recount matters of my parents now, my mother's kindness pierces my heart and liver with particular preciousness. To nurture a fledgling bird only to see it assailed by the offspring of earth-roaming beasts—such sights proved unbearable to witness, and my very soul felt it might vanish. Even so, my mother's grace remains unforgettable... When my mother lived, I acted in ways that strayed far from her teachings. Now belatedly realizing this, I find it unbearably regrettable. Therefore, I resolve to examine all sacred teachings of the Buddha's lifetime and perform acts of filial piety for her."
"(Reply to the Wife of Taira no Saemon-no-jō)"

In Nichiren there existed on one hand a pathos—an almost weeping fervor—a surge of impassioned emotion.
For instance, during the Tatsunokuchi Persecution—when Shijō Kingo, at the execution grounds, resolved to slit his own belly should anything befall his teacher—he engraved this in his heart and would recall it in later years,

"What I can never forget, even now, is how when I was to have my head cut off, you accompanied me, holding my horse’s bridle as you wept in grief—a moment impossible to forget in any age."
"Even if you, my lord, were to fall into hell due to your grave sins, no matter how Śākyamuni might entice me to become a Buddha, I could not be made to comply."
"I would enter the same hell."

This can only be described as heartrending words.

Also, as his reply to Lord Ueno,

"In Kamakura I had thought it but a passing matter, yet words cannot convey how you never forgot it."
"If even my late Lord Ueno were here, I lamented that I might have regularly reported to him—yet how could you have left your form behind so young as a keepsake?"
"That your appearance remains unchanged while even your heart has grown akin [to mine] leaves me without words."
"Having heard you attained Buddhahood through the Lotus Sutra, I have visited your grave."

This profound sincerity of love and vows—etched deep across two lifetimes—must have heightened the yearning and longing of those who encountered Nichiren.

Nine: Parinirvana

The cold of Mount Minobu further damaged his health, which had been impaired by the desolate life on Sado.
He was tormented by particularly persistent diarrhea.

"It has already been twenty-nine years since I began expounding this dharma teaching.
My body wearied and spirit wounded from daily debates, monthly tribulations, and two exiles—perhaps because of this—over these seven or eight years, though ailing health arose year after year, it remained manageable; yet since the New Year of this fourth year of Kōan (1281), this condition has developed such that I must now reach the end of my allotted span.
Moreover, I have already reached sixty years of age.
Even if I pass through one-tenth of this year, how could I possibly pass through one or two more?
(Message to the Ikegami Brothers)"

Nichiren, whose life had been so profoundly dramatic, met a death imbued with pastoral poeticism.

In September of the fifth year of Kōan (1282), as autumn winds began to rise, Nichiren mounted a chestnut horse gifted by the Hakii clan, departed Minobu where he had resided for nine years, traveled along the Kōshū Road, and on the eighteenth day arrived at the mansion of Uemon-no-Tayū Munenaka in Ikegami, Musashi Province.
We are reminded of Christ astride a donkey.
Nichiren felt both love and interest for this chestnut horse.
That his final message should conclude with this display of tenderness toward the lovely, faithful creature only deepens the lingering resonance.
His life was, through and through, a poem.

"On the journey, no trouble occurred, and I have arrived at Ikegami."
Along the way—what with mountains and rivers and so many perils—I was escorted by you young lords and have reached here without incident; though overwhelmed with gratitude,I find myself rejoicing.
...As my body lies afflicted,there may be shortcomings in my conduct.
Nevertheless,given your devotion these nine years toward this body that has been tended throughout Japan—a devotion beyond words—wherever death may find me,I shall have my tomb built in Minobu's valley.
Moreover,the chestnut horse has brought me such delight that I shall never part with it.
Though I considered sending it to Hitachi's hot springs—should another claim it or should this prove troublesome—I will entrust it instead to Lord Mobara of Kazusa.
If some unfamiliar attendant were assigned,I would feel uneasy indeed.
"(The rest is omitted.)"

This was the last message written by Nichiren.

On October 8th, as his illness took a critical turn, Nichiren earnestly entrusted Nisshō, Nichirō, and the six senior disciples with propagating the teachings after his death. Then, on the morning of the eighteenth day of the same month, Nichiren himself recited the Lotus Sutra. When Elder Nisshō struck the bell marking the moment of final nirvana, the devoted followers joined in unison; upon reaching the "Life Span" chapter, all fell silent—and this great soul returned to Vulture Peak, the Buddha’s spiritual mountain he had yearned for throughout his life.
There, his disciples, patrons, and devoted followers believed without a doubt that a peerless crown awaited him as the protector of the Lotus Sutra, and with one voice they chanted *Devotion to the Mystic Law of the Lotus Sutra* resoundingly.

Every year on October 18th, the anniversary of his death, hundreds of thousands of Nichiren’s followers gather at Ikegami Honmon-ji Temple near my residence for the Oeshiki ceremony, holding up lanterns and beating drums as they come from all directions.

As though possessed by a spirit, thousands of lanterns—held aloft by the massive crowd—swayed high under the eaves, continuing endlessly down the street, while jubilant voices praising the Lotus Sutra resounded through heaven and earth, presenting a spectacle of unparalleled fervor.
A certain famous French poet who saw this Oeshiki’s massive crowd heaped praise upon it.
That is because this unfamiliar crowd, naturally unified by the Law, maintains order while brimming with the vigor of spiritual triumph and vitality.

Nichiren’s indomitable spirit and heightened religious fervor have naturally preserved their atmosphere, continuing as a tradition to this day—six hundred and fifty years later.

He was, above all, a prophet who maintained a lofty spirit—a Buddha’s disciple and simultaneously a patriot.
The rebuilding of the Law and the rebuilding of the nation were his lifelong wishes.
Urged by a burning love for his era, he grieved for society’s sake, cried out for his homeland’s sake, debated fiercely, and fought relentlessly.
Through his affection for parents, teachers, and homeland alike, he overflowed with awareness of—and gratitude toward—the living nation as an ethnic and destined community, along with determination to safeguard it.
By his instinctive love for this living nation, he intuited the Mongol Empire’s invasion and cast aside personal peril to admonish those holding political power at that time—all to protect his homeland from calamity.
He strove tirelessly to save society by rectifying national foundations and rebuild the country by restoring human spirits.
He hated his era’s evils, condemned political distortions, attacked heresies in religious teachings, and clashed with those wielding authority.

People may perhaps regard him as a fierce mad monk whose soul knows no tranquility. However, his gentle, beautiful, and courteous heart is as we have already witnessed. Despite this, why did he have to shout so violently—as though spitting fire—denounce, challenge, and struggle and rush about like both a monk and a soldier? This was driven by his absolute reverence for divine will, his consciousness of the mission to uphold it, his concern for his contemporaries, his love for his homeland, and his instinctive compassion for the coexisting masses—thus he could not help but act as he did.

Those who hold universally valid truths yet lack concern for their contemporaries can remain composed.
Internationalists who feel no instinctive concern for the fate of their ethnic community can remain composed in their detached observation.
Those whose compassion for the masses sharing coexistence and sorrow has not materialized into physical empathy cannot comprehend the so-called “urgent desire to help.”

We can viscerally understand the motives that compelled Nichiren—a religious figure—to develop political concerns he could not suppress. Standing in the streets to appeal to the masses, criticizing politics, challenging the authorities, rebuking and chastising the spiritual and cultural leaders of his time—we feel a visceral empathy for these convictions that strikes close to our very being.

Does not Japan’s current state bear a resemblance to Nichiren’s era?

Can we refrain from confronting the current political powers, economic domination, and cultural leaderships?

The air of indifference and non-reaction that generally dominates Japan’s current intellectual class is by no means a sign of health. This atmosphere—accompanied by apathy toward the homeland—finds its prerequisite for igniting cultural passion in awakening love for a new homeland.

To achieve this end—this concrete community born from parents, taking kinship and verbal symbiosis through extended families as its impetus, unified through collective defense against enemies, rooted in cultural tradition education by teachers and mentors alongside communal self-sufficiency in food and clothing among coexisting compatriots—we must rouse these very circumstances: namely, the concepts of affection and allegiance toward parents, teachers and mentors, and the homeland. And this was precisely what Nichiren emphasized.

The Japanese intellectual class is not truly indifferent to culture; rather, they remain indifferent to ethnic culture and national thought. And this stems entirely from the erroneous perceptions held by past cultural leaders.

Japan’s cultural leaders, through their indifference toward the homeland and concealed antipathy toward the ethnic community, are smoldering the next generation of youth in a half-baked state where they are neither fully alive nor dead.
This is a lamentable spectacle.
By all means, we must establish a new national state nationalism that does not forsake cultural truth and humanity’s common ground, thereby liberating the next generation of youth onto a dynamic stage.

We have no choice but to wage struggle against today’s cultural leadership stratum—for truth’s sake, for our homeland’s sake.

The lack of political interest among Japan’s cultural leadership stratum is also akin to this.
They despise cultural figures who engage in politics.
Yet in this age where human culture and well-being grow ever more dependent on politics, it is only natural that we who are conscious of culture's guiding mission cannot remain uninvolved from enlightenment movements that seek to rectify politics' fundamental spirit and champion its ideals.
That has become even more urgent than in Nichiren’s time.
For today, both culture and economy are being expanded and planned on a national-social scale.

"Neither too grand nor too petty."
Those who discuss culture in measured voices deserve respect.
Yet we must not spurn the wild prophet who thunders like divine wrath for this reason.
The humble professor wearing a plain collar merits esteem, but none should scorn the street warrior whose tongue spews flames because of it.
What we truly require is the lion's roar from the gentlest of souls.
It is the blazing battle cry of the most refined.
And verily, both Christ and Nichiren stood as perfect exemplars of such beings.

Those who harbor self in their hearts cannot become prophets. Those who do not harbor "heaven" in their souls cannot become prophets. Prophets are spokespersons of divine will, for they are those who supplant its authority.

Those who do not harbor a love for their contemporaries and the masses—a love tinged with decline—cannot become prophets. To stain their collar, plunge their shoes into the mire, and yearn to be smeared with sweat and tears—even blood—in the dust and toil of the streets rather than ivory towers: this is the very instinct of a prophet.

Moreover, precisely because they revere the masses as Buddha’s children, they do not merely seek to provide them with the utilitarian satisfaction of “the greatest happiness for the greatest number,” but constantly strive to elevate and guide them, urging them to become noble personalities living in spiritual ecstasy and cultural refinement—and thus, those who sacrifice themselves to tirelessly work toward building an ideal community—ultimately, an earthly paradise where saints gather—these are the true prophets.

And that Nichiren was one who fulfilled such conditions is demonstrated by the account of his life as briefly described above.
We must compare the life of Nichiren, who lived seven hundred years ago in the Kamakura period, with Japan’s current time of crisis, acknowledge this for ourselves, and resolve what must be done.

(November 25, 1937)

Reference Works

Tanaka Chigaku: Daikoku Saint Nichiren

Shimizu Ryūzan: The Life of Saint Nichiren

Yamakawa Chōō: Saint Nichiren Biography: Ten Lectures

Yūhōdō Bunko: Saint Nichiren’s Collected Works

Murobuse Kōshin: Treatise on Spreading Peace Through Righteousness

Takayama Chogyū: What Kind of Person Is Nichiren?

Anesaki Masaharu: Nichiren, the Lotus Sutra Ascetic

Kurata Hyakuzō: Love and Recognition Toward the Homeland

Nietzsche: Thus Spoke Zarathustra

The Book of Isaiah in the Old Testament.
Lotus Sutra.
The Biography of Martin Luther.