Programme
for the
Second International Symposium on Buddhism & Neoplatonism

Theurgy (“divine work”) in Neoplatonism is often regarded critically as a kind of mystical obscurantism, yet its treatment can be viewed as both highly rational in its attempt to bring various rituals and cultic objects within a philosophical framework or when considered from the perspective of a “self-cultivation philosophy” (a perspective which has opened up a structure for comparison between Greek and Indian thought, as illustrated by the work of Gowans). Theurgy’s efficacy depends upon a doctrine of cosmic sympathy, and although it can be dismissed as a type of “miracle-working” or self-proclaimed magic, it involves raising the soul by “the ropes of heaven-bound salvation” (Damascius, Phil. Hist. 4a), allowing the possibility of ascending to the divine through a process beyond intellection. Similarly, Theravāda Buddhism has a concept of Brahma-faring (brahmacariya), as well as the image of a rolling Supreme Wheel (brahmacakka), which itself has a broader symbolic value for Buddhism. These can roughly be equated with theurgy and are found throughout the Pāli canon, aiming at divine ascent, prophesying, particularly with regard to certain objects, and control over demons. Indeed, the claim made for Brahma-faring seems to echo claims made for Platonic recollection: “Following this way, this practice, I, by my own higher knowledge, having won the incomparable plunge into the Brahma- faring, proclaim it. Come you too, follow them likewise, so that you too by your own higher knowledge, having won the incomparable plunge into the Brahma-faring, may abide in it” (A. i. I68). Such a desire for knowledge of Brahma-faring can lead to an ascetic lifestyle (cf. Mahāvagga) and a higher form of spiritual existence; the sort of transcendence via ritual practices which is promised by theurgy. This paper shall focus on the extent to which theurgy and Brahma-faring within their respective traditions attempt to rationalize and solve similar problems.

Recent western interpreters have casted doubt on the existence of the Absolute—i.e., some kind of metaphysically assessable form of ultimate reality—in Mahāyāna philosophy. The prevailing view affirms that Buddhist philosophy is more concerned with epistemology and logic than with gradation of metaphysical realities. In this talk I propose a different answer. Using an elementary approach, I collect claims regarding the first principle in Damascius’s Difficulties and Solutions and emptiness in Sthiramati’s sub-commentary on Vasubandhu’s Madhyāntavibhāgabhāṣya. Finding that those claims indeed support the idea of the Absolute, I argue that Western attempts to deconstruct metaphysics deserve greater critical scrutiny.

Porphyry, Plotinus’s biographer and the editor of his Enneads, puts Plotinus’s questions about the self and the soul at the very start of his arrangement of that work. Plotinus wonders about the subject of pleasures and pains, emotions and appetites. He begins with the Platonic answer to this question: it is the soul that is the subject. But this simple answer is immediately thrown into doubt when Plotinus points out that appetites and emotions and perceptual experiences do not simply or obviously have the soul as their subject since these seem to require a body as well. Even more troubling is the fact that an embodied soul or human being can experience conflict between appetitive or emotions experiences and higher cognitive activities. Thus, one can have an appetite and believe that the appetite should not be satisfied. If the appetite has a subject and the thought that the appetite should not be satisfied also has a subject and these subjects are in conflict, which subject—if any—is the real subject or self? Such conflicts elicit from Plotinus a penetrating analysis leading to a conclusion regarding a distinction between empirical or ephemeral “selves” or “subjects” and the true locus of personhood in the intellect. The former bears comparison with what the scholar of Buddhism Jonardon Ganeri calls a “surrogate self.” The latter is already the “inhabitant” of a Platonic “heaven.” This “true self” is markedly removed from the presumed individuality of the former.

This paper examines the resonance between Neoplatonic and Japanese Buddhist conceptions of celestial music as a symbolic and experiential bridge between heaven and earth, extending also into the Kyoto School’s notion of absolute nothingness. Drawing on themes of attunement, syngeneia, and the unifying presence of the One in all things, it explores how music, myth, ritual, and artistic imagination mediate the relationship between the unmanifest and the manifest, harmonizing beings with the dynamic, living order of the cosmos. In Japanese traditions, the shō (and its Chinese counterpart, the sheng) is associated with the hōō 鳳凰 — the fenghuang in Chinese — a celestial bird symbolizing the unity of complementary aspects. This symbolism resonates with the haṃsa in Indian thought and the swan in Western culture — liminal creatures that move between realms and embody a mediating, nondual presence. Neoplatonic symbols such as the Apollonian swan, the cosmic monochord, and the lyre of Hermes/Apollo similarly evoke music as a medium of ascent and epistrophē, a path of recollection and cosmic attunement. Across these traditions, musical forms that suspend linear development and unfold in a contemplative, flowing manner — more like strolling through a garden than executing a predetermined plan — exemplify a mode of attunement aligned with Daoist and Zen sensibilities, where sound arises without coercion and direction emerges without control. Examples from gagaku, Tōru Takemitsu, and selected Western works illustrate how such musical moments create a resonant field in which interconnectedness becomes palpable or audible. By focusing on these sonic and symbolic mediations, the paper argues that celestial music offers a shared experiential language through which Neoplatonism and Buddhism evoke a nondual, nondiscursive presence — śūnyatā, kokoro, sora, and their Western analogues of ether, the heavens, and the Proclean hyparxis as a mode of presence — encountered through attunement, kinship, imagination, and the living power of sound.

Between Neoplatonism and the Buddhist schools popular in the territory of present-day Pakistan and Afghanistan in late antiquity, we find many philosophical notions that are semantically and conceptually close. For example, Plato's term καταγείῳ οἰκήσει ("hidden dwelling") correlates well with the concept of "concealed reality" (saṃvṛti-satya), used to denote our confused reality, hidden from the light—our existence in the cave. And the Buddhist term "transcendent reality" (paramārtha-satya) has a close analogy with Plato's concept ὑπερβέβληκεν ἄνω ("passed upwards" or "going upwards", "the region beyond the heaven"). Based on these and other parallels, we can draw a conceptual analogy between Neoplatonism and Northern Buddhism.

Why – according to the testimony of Eustochium, as reported by Porphyry – did a serpent (δράκων) swiftly slip out from beneath his bed at the very moment Plotinus drew his last breath? And why do so many Buddhist masters bear the serpent (nāga) within their very names? It is even said that Nāgārjuna received the Prajñāpāramitā sūtras as a gift from the nāgas themselves, who until then had been their abyssal custodians, and who are therefore often depicted alongside the great master.

On the other hand, Maurice de Gandillac does not hesitate to suggest that Plotinus’s own “daemon” (δαίμων) fled in the form of a serpent, vanishing swiftly toward a more divine dimension. Nevertheless, despite these elements of undoubtedly profound significance, the symbol of the serpent has very often remained at the margins of more strictly philosophical inquiry, both within the Buddhist context and – even more so – within the Neoplatonic one, where it is frequently understood as a residue of more “exotic” forms of knowledge – such as Egyptian traditions – or as belonging to the sphere of the magical and the mysteric.

Yet, as a number of modern thinkers have emphasized, the symbol – or, in Jungian terms, the archetype – of the serpent (or the dragon, which may be regarded as one of its “variants”) plays a fundamental role both in Eastern speculative traditions and in the Western context of Greek provenance. This symbolic role is intimately bound up with the most sophisticated forms of intellectual speculation – and, precisely insofar as it is ambiguous, duplicitous, and ultimately elusive, it constitutes both their condition of possibility and their dissolution.

In other words, the symbol of the serpent possesses an importance that far exceeds its actual presence within the texts. The present contribution will therefore focus on this theme, seeking to illuminate – without presuming to “unravel” them – the manifold meanings and roles of the serpent between Buddhism and Neoplatonism.

Mythological figures and places in Plotinus are variously demythologized, sublimated, or subjected to speculative reinterpretation. I shall study how, in Enn. V 8.9-10, Plotinus reworks motifs from Plato, Phaedrus 246Eff. In "the case of Plato already, we ask "did the Greeks believe in their myths, and more so in the case of Plotinus, who makes the persons (the gods) and the (heavenly) places very abstract and impersonal. 

For a comparable process in Buddhism I shall study chapter IX of the Vimalakīrti-nirdeśa, which describes a universe presided by a tathagata Sugandhakhuta and where all the inhabitants are bodhisattvas and up, tathagatas, sons of gods, and vice and suffering is almost unknown and exquisite perfumes abound, Vimalakirti creates a fictive bodhisattva and sends it to that world to bring back some of its food, whose perfume will do the work of a buddha in the Saha world. But the Saha world is deemed better because of its moral and spiritual challenges.

How does this myth-making subserve the sober transmission of Buddhist wisdom? How do both traditions here demonstrate a creative oscillation between the imaginative and the intellective? Non-propositional, intuitive, meditative thinking is what is conveyed through this literary, hermeneutical, and transformative labor on mythological data.

Luc Brisson argues that philosophy, especially Neoplatonism, was ironically responsible for saving myth from historical annihilation. Although philosophy was initially critical of myth because it could not be declared true or false and because it was inferior to argumentation, mythology was progressively reincorporated into philosophy through allegorical exegesis, playing a critical role in moral, physical, psychological, political, and even metaphysical thought throughout the centuries.

The flamboyant tales of Mahayana sutras likewise "save" the bodhisattvas, translating everything into the terms of Wisdom and paring away merely devotional imaginings. Veneration of statues of buddhist figures, offering of gifts, and other practices, thanks to the combination of deep thought and exhilarating imagination in the great sutras, remain profoundly attuned to the insights of Buddhist philosophy. 

Despite fundamental differences in their ontological premises, both Buddhism and Neoplatonism articulate a form of nonduality as an ultimate state of completion, represented respectively by Nirvāṇa and the One as the transcendental end of their systems. This non-duality stands in contrast to a dual order that remains distant from it, namely the world of cyclic consciousness (saṃsāra) and the structured sphere of being. Both systems, however, develop ways to actualize this non-dual quality within the dual world, albeit from different starting points.

The transcendence of Nirvāṇa may suggest a withdrawal from the sphere of being. In response, the early Yogācāra tradition advances the notion of the “unutterable nature” (nirabhilāpya-svabhāvatā), to be realized and actualized by the Bodhisattva through coinciding with it in all modes of conduct.

By contrast, Plotinus constructs a hierarchical model of reality in which the Intellect (Nous), as an emanation of the transcendent One, functions as a secondary hypostasis, grounding intelligibility and generating the soul, while mediating between transcendence and the realm of being.

This paper undertakes a comparative analysis of the respective methodologies through which each tradition seeks synchronization with ultimate reality, examining how non-duality is actualized within the dual world. It highlights the Yogācāra emphasis on realizing the unutterable nature and Plotinus’ mediating Intellect as distinct yet comparable approaches.

This paper examines the ritual grammars of image consecration in Neoplatonism, as represented by Iamblichus’ De Mysteriis Aegyptiorum, and in Vajrayāna Buddhism, as presented in Kuladatta's Kriyāsaṃgrahapañjikā. It contrasts Iamblichus' telestikē, or "perfecting art," which uses external material tokens (synthemata) to sympathetically attract a divine presence into a statue, with the Buddhist prāṇapratiṣṭhā, or "establishment of life-force," which uses lifecycle rites and visualisations to regenerate the image as a living deity infused with a "wisdom-being" (jñānasattva). Despite their differing approaches, this paper argues that both traditions developed sophisticated ritual technologies for achieving the same end: transforming an inert, lifeless (nirjiva) object into an efficacious, living vessel of the divine, thus making the transcendent immanent.

Plotinus and Dzogchen, in their ideal formulations, appear to bypass mediating supports in order to directly realize ultimate reality – the One (gr. to hèn) or the Base (tib. gzhi). Yet the reversion (epistrophḗ) necessarily begins from an embodied, spatio-temporal condition. This raises a central problem: can full realization occur within corporeal existence?

Dzogchen affirms the possibility of complete Buddhahood within a single lifetime. By contrast, Plotinian scholarship generally maintains that only the level of Intellect (noûs) admits a stable contemplative state, while union (hénōsis) with the One remains episodic and discontinuous. However, this view may not be exhaustive: one may ask whether Plotinus allows for a mode of realization approaching continuity even at the level of the One.

This tension contrasts with Dzogchen sources that frequently describe realization as a continuous state rather than a series of transient experiences. The inquiry thus follows a double trajectory: first, to assess whether the Enneads permit a continuous contemplative state at the level of the One, possibly even in embodied existence; second, to critically examine Dzogchen claims of complete and perfect enlightenment in our human condition.

A comparative mapping of the final stages in Dzogchen – which may include the four visions (snang ba bzhi) of thod rgal, the modalities of the rainbow body, and the schema of sixteen bhūmis – will focus more specifically on the realization of the clear light of the path, or “child” luminosity. A key doctrinal tension thus emerges: the full coincidence between the “child” and “mother” clear lights (’od gsal) often appears to occur only at death, thereby suggesting limits to realization within embodied existence.

Thus, this analysis evaluates whether either tradition admits a fully continuous, non-intermittent state of “mystical union” within embodied life.

Hisamatsu Shin’ichi (1889–1980), a Zen philosopher of the Kyoto School, is recognized for a depth of awakening so profound that direct encounters with him compelled leading Buddhist and Christian scholars to fundamentally re-evaluate their own traditions. In his early essay "Plotinus," Hisamatsu expressed profound resonance with the Plotinian experience and the concept of the One (to hen). However, he diagnosed Plotinus’s project as incomplete: while Plotinus temporarily attained the non-dual dimension through mystical experience, he remained within a Dualistic/Objectified Standpoint in his philosophical articulation. Hisamatsu himself undertook to construct a Philosophy of Awakening (kaku no tetsugaku) — a philosophy enacted from the Awakening Standpoint itself.

Hisamatsu redefined the One as Absolute Subjectivity, Awakening (kaku), and Working (hataraki) — the non-dual primordial subjectivity that simultaneously underlies and generates both the events of the objective world and the life of the awakened individual. It inspirationally gives rise to cognition and action within the awakened individual’s specific locus; it grounds a principle of social creation in which the One is self-identical with the Many; and it provides the foundation for Hisamatsu's 'Postmodernist Method'—a methodology of creative logic-generation conceived long before, and in a sense entirely different from, the postmodernism of Derrida. These constitute the Logos of Awakening: a comprehensive logos of life, knowledge, and society grounded in Awakening.

Furthermore, from the Awakening Standpoint, Hisamatsu identified a structural contradiction—the 'Absolute Antinomy'—inherent in the prevailing ego-centered paradigm. This paradigm—structured as goal-setting, world-modeling, and object-manipulation based on reified values—inevitably leads to fragmentation and the loss of creativity. Its limits are becoming ever more manifest in today's pluralized and complexified world. Hisamatsu argued that the shift to the Paradigm of Awakening — grounded in the Logos of Awakening— is a historical necessity, presenting it as a fundamental prescription for the impasse of contemporary civilization.

Zong Bing’s 宗炳 (375–443) “Introduction to Painting Landscapes” (Hua shanshui xu 畫山水序), written during the Southern Dynasties, is the earliest known theoretical text on Chinese landscape painting. As both an artist and a Buddhist defender, Zong Bing presents an aesthetic view deeply influenced by Buddhist metaphysics. At the core of his vision is his use of the phrase li ru ying ji 理入影迹—literally, “[numinous] principle enters through ‘the site [or trace] of shadow’ or ‘emanation’ [or ‘painted image’].” Although this text holds a key place in Chinese art theory, this term and its Buddhist connections have rarely been thoroughly analyzed. This paper reexamines ying 影 (“shadow,” “reflection,” or “emanation”) within Zong Bing’s theory, linking it to the Buddhist story of the Buddha’s shadow or emanation (fo ying 佛影), a motif that originated in northwest India and spread widely through Central Asia and China. Through this perspective, Zong Bing’s idea of shadow is revealed not just as a visual metaphor but as an expression of the immaterial, mind-based image—an image that shows its presence through absence and its illumination through reflection. By tracing how Buddhist ideas of divine manifestation influenced early Chinese notions of pictorial space, this study explores how “shadow” becomes a site or surrogate of divine revelation in medieval Chinese aesthetic thought. Engaging with Neoplatonic ideas of emanation and the divine image, the paper argues that Zong Bing’s concept of ying anticipates a broader metaphysics of representation, in which the visible world is a reflection of a transcendental principle—a “heaven in shadow.”

This paper explores the nature of being and becoming in Buddhist and Neoplatonic metaphysics, focusing on the twin motif of ascent and enlightenment. It draws on the Buddhist Abhidharma metaphysics of experience, explaining how its taxonomy of mind and mental phenomena is intended to serve as a practical guide to realizing its core insights. This metaphysics of experience is contrasted with the Neoplatonic ontology of emanation, which frames multiplicity as an overflow from unity rather than a contingent web of conditioned phenomena. Although Neoplatonism privileges being and participation in the One, while Buddhism emphasizes contingency and the transformative character of mental cultivation, both traditions, I argue, inform similar architectural principles: for the former, verticality and luminosity enact metaphysical ascent; for the former, its primarily circular and layered structure maps Buddhist cosmology, inviting circumambulation as a symbolic progression along the path.

Buddhists and Neoplatonists alike cautiously approached astrology, but for both traditions there was always the question of how to free oneself from a fate determined or signalled by the stars and planets. A comparison of the two traditions reveals that both attempted to rely on divine or supernatural assistance to liberate oneself from fate.