“Words Falter in Encapsulating the Dao 言語道斷”: The Philosophy of Language of Zen Buddhism in The Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch

Abstract

This paper examines the philosophy of language in The Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch (六祖壇經), demonstrating its centrality to Zen Buddhism and Buddhist sinicization. The sutra emphasizes the ineffability of ultimate truth (至道無言) and the principle that words falter in encapsulating the Dao (言語道斷), framing language as a provisional “raft” (筏) that must be instrumentalized yet transcended through a dialectic of employing and abandoning (用離辯證). It ontologically grounds this view in Buddha-nature’s (佛性) pre-linguistic essence, advocating transcending reliance on words and letters (不假文字) while strategically deploying language to dismantle its own authority. Historically, this constituted a revolt against Tang scholasticism’s textual fetishism. The text adopts a dynamic dialectic, neither clinging to nor rejecting language, exemplified by Huineng’s awakening through the Diamond Sutra, where recitation catalyzes internal insight. Operationally, it utilizes negational discourse, the “Two Paths Mutually Condition” method (二道相因) embedded in the “Twelve Pairs of Dharmic Forms” (法相語言十二對) in particular, to systematically deconstruct dualisms, while promoting embodied unity of speech, mind, and action (口念心行) to critique empty recitation. Ultimately, the sutra orchestrates language as a self-subverting medium: balancing acknowledgment of its limitations with pragmatic instrumentality, it presents an Eastern paradigm where language actively disrupts conceptual fetters to facilitate direct insight into Buddha-nature, reframing it as a dynamic catalyst for “illuminating the mind and seeing one’s nature” (明心見性).

1. Introduction

Zen/Chan (chan, 禪), as a quintessential representative of the sinicization of Buddhism, has inscribed a significant chapter in the history of Chinese philosophy with its unique spiritual connotations and paths of cultivation. Zen Buddhism offers profound insights into existence and nothingness, as well as an exploration of the essence of human thought and expression (Kinji 2020), and is renowned for its improvisational, atypical, and perplexing use of words (Ho 2020). This tradition provides a unique perspective to explore the complex relationships between language, consciousness, and reality. Different from dedicating to constructing precise and rigorous linguistic systems (e.g., meaning, reference, truth) to clearly define concepts and convey ideas in the Western tradition of philosophy of language (Stalmaszczyk 2021), within the context of Chinese Zen Buddhism, language is not merely a linguistic phenomenon, but a gateway to the enlightenment and realization of the Buddha’s teachings (Liu 2018), thereby reaching the fundamental goal of “illuminating the mind and seeing one’s nature (minxin jianxing, 明心見性)” in Buddhist practice (Gong and Wang 2008). The Zen approach to the transcendence of language reflects the intimate interweaving of religious practice and philosophical speculation, thus forming a “performative scholarship” (Huo 2016a). This paper starts from the core teachings and propositions of Zen Buddhism and conducts a detailed analysis of its philosophy of language from the perspectives of ontological views, theories of meaning, modes of discourse, and aesthetic perspectives.

Considering the rich and complex history and textual traditions of Zen Buddhism, this paper selects The Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch (liuzu tanjing, 六祖壇經, hereinafter referred to as the Platform Sutra) to investigate its philosophy of language. It stands as a uniquely authoritative and foundational source, being the only text honored as a sutra (jing, 經) composed within the Chinese Zen tradition.1 It is academically imperative to acknowledge the complex textual history of the Platform Sutra. As the earliest extant version, the Dunhuang manuscript underwent significant expansions from approximately 12,000 characters to over 20,000 in the Qisong and Zongbao’s versions. This evolution concretely demonstrates cumulative redaction by Huineng’s disciples and later adherents. Prefaces to editions like the Huixin note such modifications, confirming editorial interventions began shortly after Huineng’s death. While these alterations historically served sectarian aims by elevating Southern Zen’s legitimacy against rival schools, they ultimately crystallized core doctrinal and linguistic strategies recognized as authentically Huineng within the Zen tradition. Thus, this study focuses not on reconstructing the putative original Huineng’s words but on analyzing the Platform Sutra tradition, namely, the synthesized discourse that emerged as the authoritative Southern Zen textual corpus by the Yuan dynasty, prioritizing its operative linguistic philosophy over historical authorship debates. The Zongbao Version utilized in the study2 also, because of its canonical dominance post-14th century, embodies this mature tradition. Its linguistic philosophy, whether fully traceable to Huineng or refined by later masters, represents the operational orthodoxy that shaped East Asian Zen practice. As such, it offers a proper lens for examining how Southern Zen strategically negotiated language’s paradoxes.

Currently, understanding the doctrinal and pedagogical strategies of the Platform Sutra hinges on analyzing its language. Ho (2016, 2020) notes the sutra uses thirty-six pairs of concepts as a pedagogical tool to convey Zen teachings, reflecting its emphasis on interdependence and nonduality. Another analysis highlights that the Platform Sutra aims to elucidate the formless nature of awareness, which becomes obscured by conditioned attachment to specific forms, meaning its language often points to formless awareness while acknowledging the conditioned nature of perception (Loy 2016). Additionally, translation researches reveal that choices in mood and modality across different versions reshape the image of Huineng: systemic functional analysis shows that linguistic decisions directly influence readers’ understanding of the text’s philosophical stance (Yu and Wu 2016), and this linguistic style with regards to genre, rhetorical modes, and poetical or “non-referential” language is deeply rooted in traditional Zen sermonic traditions (Anderl 2012). At a deeper level, its linguistic strategies are intertwined with philosophical tenets: the Sixth Patriarch’s enlightenment experience and language both embody a non-dual understanding of consciousness, where conceptual thinking itself creates obstacles to comprehension, and language aims to transcend dualistic distinctions for spiritual liberation (Allinson 2017).

In summary, the existing review demonstrates this sutra’s complex linguistic features but calls for a dedicated philosophical synthesis. This study is necessary and important because it provides this unified framework, directly tackling the core philosophical questions about language’s nature, function, and limitations (ineffability), its strategic use, and its integration with practice (unity of speech–mind–action) that are implicitly raised and left unresolved by the findings summarized in the review. It moves from observing linguistic strategies to explicating the underlying Zen philosophy of language within the Platform Sutra. Critically, this paper advances the Platform Sutra scholarship in two distinctive ways: First, it moves beyond stating general principles to anatomize the operational mechanics of the text’s linguistic strategies, specifically decoding how the “Twelve Pairs of Dharmic Forms” systematically deconstruct dualistic concepts through dialectical counter-assertion, how reciting with the mouth while practicing in the mind transforms language from empty recitation into somatic realization by synchronizing speech, intention, and ethical action, and how encounter dialogues weaponize semantic indeterminacy to shatter conceptual dependency. Second, and more originally, it reveals the Platform Sutra’s paradoxical reframing of language via demonstrating that the text instrumentalizes language precisely to expose its own ontological insufficiency. This is achieved through: (a) deploying metaphors that simultaneously utilize and negate language’s representational capacity; (b) constructing dialectical discourse that performs linguistic transcendence in real time; and (c) demanding that all verbal expressions ultimately culminate in non-linguistic practice. This reflexive engineering positions language not merely as a provisional tool, but as a self-subverting medium that actively dismantles its own authority to point toward wordless Buddha-nature.

2. The Ultimate Truth Is Ineffable 至道無言: The Ontological View of Language in “Transcending Reliance on Words and Letters 不假文字”

Zen with the notions of emptiness and interconnectedness reveals an ontological framework that privileges direct experience and the interconnected nature of reality over linguistic categorization (Li 2025). The view of language in the Platform Sutra is deeply rooted in a Chinese philosophical tradition skeptical of language’s capacity to convey profound truths. Traditionally, both Chinese mysticism and Buddhism hold the view that the internal experience of the Dao cannot be translated into language. Zhuangzi proposed the well-known notion of “catching the meaning while forgetting words (deyi wangyan, 得意忘言)” through the metaphors of catching fish, then forgetting the stakes, and catching hares, then forgetting the snares. Zhuangzi clearly indicates that language is but an artificial tool for achieving human intentions and admonishes people to forget words upon grasping the meaning (Shi 2010). Zen Buddhism, since its inception, has inherited this pragmatic view of language, recognizing the limitations of language usage profoundly. Instead of seeking to establish values in the external world, it pursues self-affirmation from within, establishing a personalized expression of one’s nature that rejects all external constraints and powerfully breaks through the limitations of words and letters (Chen 2017, p. 115). Zen Buddhism refrains from employing written texts and does not establish doctrines through words, or “not relying on words and letters” and “not establishing words and letters” (Davis 2020); instead, it directly transmits the minds of the Buddhas, known as “a special transmission outside the scriptures (jiaowai biechuan, 教外別傳.” This refers to a unique teaching beyond the words of the Buddha, with the core principle of “directly pointing to the mind (zhizhi renxin, 直指人心)” and “seeing one’s nature to become a Buddha 見性成佛.” As Bodhidharma states in the Treatise on the Two Entrances and Four Practices (errusixinglun, 二入四行論), enlightenment requires transcending “the constraints of doctrinal teachings” (jiaoli yueshu, 教理約束), where language serves as a provisional “raft” to cross the river of delusion, not the destination itself.3

The quest to articulate the ultimate nature of reality confronts a fundamental paradox: the very tool used for articulation, namely, language, is often deemed inadequate or even obstructive to the task. This tension is particularly acute in Chan Buddhism, crystallized in the axiom “transcending reliance on words and letters” (bujiawenzi, 不假文字). The Platform Sutra stands as a seminal text embodying this principle, centering the inherent Buddha-nature within all beings and the possibility of sudden awakening. Language’s limitations become crucial to his pedagogical and soteriological strategy.

Huineng explicitly frames enlightenment as an internal, experiential process facilitated by, but not dependent on, verbal instruction. He states the following:

The Dharma, moreover, is the transmission of the mind with the mind. [The mind] must always enlighten itself 法則以心傳心, 皆令自悟自解.

(The Platform Sutra, Number One Account of Origins, Huineng (2000, p. 24); 六祖壇經: 行由品第一, 惠能 Huineng 2013, p. 24)4

This dismantles the hierarchy of written scripture, positing immediate intuitive insight (自悟自解) as the only valid path to awakening. The ontological implication is clear: the Buddha-nature is an existential reality prior to linguistic objectification. This establishes the core mechanism: words may spark insight, but true understanding arises from within the individual’s mind, not from parsing doctrinal complexity. Transmission is direct, intuitive, and fundamentally non-linguistic. Meanwhile, he contrasts different capacities. For those of superior faculties, wisdom is innate and spontaneously active:

If a person of the Mahayana or a person of the Supreme Vehicle hears this explanation of the Diamond Sutra, his mind will open forth in enlightened understanding. Therefore, you should understand that your fundamental natures have in themselves the wisdom of prajñā. Allowing this wisdom to function of itself in constant contemplation, one therefore need not rely on the written word 若大乘人, 若最上乘人, 聞說《金剛經》, 心開悟解; 故知本性自有般若之智. 自用智慧常觀照故, 不假文字.

(The Platform Sutra, Number Two: Prajñā, Huineng 2000, p. 31; 六祖壇經: 般若品第二, 惠能 Huineng 2013, p. 51)

The rain metaphor following this passage reinforces the point: wisdom, like rain nourishing all beings, originates from the inherent nature (the “dragon”), not from external sources like texts (the “sky”). While scriptures like the Diamond Sutra can catalyze awakening, the wisdom realized is not contained within the text; the text merely activates what is already present. Reliance implies dependence on an external crutch, which obscures the internal source.

At the same time, Huineng directly confronts the human tendency to conceptualize and name the ineffable. His famous riddle to the assembly is as follows:

One day the Master addressed the assembly: “I have a thing. It has no head or tail, no name or label, no back or front. Do any of you know it? 壹日, 師告衆曰: “吾有壹物, 無頭無尾, 無名無字, 無背無面. 諸人還識否？

Shenhui then identifies it as “the source of all Buddhas, the Buddha-nature of Shenhui 是諸佛之本源, 神會之佛性.” Huineng’s rebuke is swift and profound:

I told you it was without name or title, but you have called it the fundamental source, the Buddha-nature. You’ve just covered your head with thatch. You’ve become a follower with only discriminative understanding 向汝道: ‘無名無字’, 汝便喚作本源佛性. 汝向去有把芔蓋頭, 也只成個知解宗徒.

(The Platform Sutra, Number Eight: Sudden and Gradual, Huineng 2000, p. 78; 六祖壇經: 頓漸品第八, 惠能 Huineng 2013, p. 175)

This exchange is pivotal. Huineng presents the essence (Buddha-nature, the ultimate truth) as fundamentally unnameable and uncharacterizable. To label it (“source of Buddhas,” “Buddha-nature”) is to objectify it, to trap it within the very conceptual net that obscures its true, ineffable nature. Shenhui’s error is clinging to the concept, mistaking the verbal designation for the reality itself, thus becoming a “doctrinalist” trapped in intellectual understanding (zhijie, 知解) rather than embodying direct realization.

Here, the path of abandoning delusions and returning to truth is relying on teachings to realize the essence, which means using language and texts as expedient means to help one enter the true realm of no self, no other, and the equality of the ordinary and the sacred 無自無他, 凡聖等一. There is the famous “finger pointing at the moon” metaphor in Buddhist scriptures such as Shurangama Sutra (lengyanjing, 楞嚴經 and Lankavatara Sutra (lengqiejing, 楞伽經) (Garfield et al. 2009). It compares the relationship between language and truth, where the moon represents truth, Buddha-nature, or the essence of the Dharma, and the finger symbolizes words, letters, and doctrinal expressions. Understanding the eternal truth through words and letters is akin to seeing the bright full moon by following the direction of a finger. Yet the finger is not the moon, and language is not the truth but merely carries the information of truth. One should not become lost in the appearance of words and miss the truth by clinging to the literal form. Zen thus warns against being fixated solely on the external manifestations of language, urging people to look beyond these “fingers” to grasp the “moon” behind them, which is the true essence of the Dharma and the reality of the universe and life. The direct pointing method transmitted by Shakyamuni Buddha aims to free sentient beings from the constraints of external appearances, encouraging introspection and the direct experience of one’s nature. As it states the following:

The ultimate truth is ineffable. Once expressed in words, it deviates from its true nature. Although it is related to the nature, there is no fixed essence that can be named. Emptiness itself is wordless and beyond the realm of mental activities. The mind of the sage is subtle and hidden, free from comprehension and knowledge. The great enlightenment is so profound that it is without words or speech 至道無言, 言則乖至. 雖以性礙本, 無本可稱. 空自無言, 非心行處. 聖心微隱, 絕解絕知. 大覺覺寒寒, 無言無說.

(The Record of the Masters and Disciples of the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra 楞伽師資記, Volume 1, Jingjue 1931, p. 24)

Another example lies in Huineng’s instruction to the monk Fada, who diligently recited the Lotus Sutra without grasping its meaning. He emphasizes the following:

Your name is now Fada. You have diligently recited [the Lotus Sutra] without cease. Reciting in vain, you have only been emanating sounds. It is the wise mind that is called bodhisattva. Since you have now had this connection [with me], I will now explain [Buddhism] for you: Simply have faith that the Buddha was silent, That [only] lotuses came forth from his mouth 汝今名法達, 勤誦未休歇; 空誦但循聲, 明心號菩薩; 汝今有緣故, 吾今爲汝說: 但信佛無言, 蓮華從口發.

(The Platform Sutra, Number Seven: Encounters, Huineng 2000, p. 56; 六祖壇經: 機緣品第七, 惠能 Huineng 2013, p. 121)

Huineng critiques “empty recitation”—mechanically following the sound of words without internal awakening. The key is faith in the wordless essence of Buddha’s enlightenment (“Only believe that the Buddha is without words”). True understanding of the Lotus Sutra’s meaning, which is symbolized by the lotus blossom issuing from the mouth, arises not from accumulating verbal knowledge, but from penetrating beyond words to the ineffable truth they point towards. Faith and truth here imply trust in the reality of that which transcends language. Human spiritual power is limited, while the truth of the universe is infinite. It is surely absurd to measure the infinite realm of the sages with the limited mind of ordinary people. What is meant by “there is no Dharma that can be expressed and no mind that can be described 無法可說, 無心可言” here is precisely the state of “words falter in encapsulating the Dao and the realm of mental activities ceases 言語道斷, 心行處滅.” That is to say, the original core of Zen thought is the Dao of no-thinking (Gu 2024, p. 112), and the essence of the Dao cannot be expressed by language, words, or symbols. It can only be known through one’s own personal experience and verification. According to him, the Dao is wordless, and the vicissitudes of the four seasons and the natural growth of all things represent its natural essence, which is not confined by language. In The Record of Poshan, he made a metaphor by using the past fifteenth day to represent the past tense, the future fifteenth day to represent the future tense, and the current fifteenth day to represent the present tense. Among these three periods, the past has already passed, so the opportunity for saying has gone; the future has not yet arrived, so the opportunity for saying is too far away. Only focusing on the present is of the utmost importance. Yet this present enlightenment is as swift as a flash of lightning. Therefore, to obtain the genuine benefits of the Buddhist Dharma, one must turn inward for self-reflection and start from one’s own mind, rather than being trapped in the rut of formalism such as being overly attached to words and letters.

In the Platform Sutra, language serves as the expression of the “ineffable”, which realizes the “practice without fixation 不修之修” of non-attachment to a single thought through contemplating the “Three Non-attachments (sanwu, 三無)” method, and reflects the language game without being stuck in words in the life process of attaining enlightenment. Zen Buddhism emphasizes the principle of “the ultimate truth is ineffable”, which is also manifested in its value on “silence (mo, 默)” and “shouts and blows (banghe, 棒喝)”. It reproduces the pragmatics of the truth in an intuitive way of life. In traditional Chinese philosophy, Taoism emphasizes keeping silent, Confucianism highlights that silence is golden, and Buddhism says “ineffable (cannot be said)”. Zen, however, holds that the Dharma is so exquisite that it defies description and is beyond words. Silence is considered the closest approach to the original state of the world and Buddha-nature (Hung 2020). Zen focuses on personal inner realization and does not seek external validation. It advocates the Zen practice of grasping the essence of Zen while forgetting the words in scriptures and cultivating the practice of seeing one’s true nature. This is a form of “life pragmatics”, which considers life as the existence that presents the Dharma and uses life practice to comprehend and interpret the “ineffable” discourse. Meanwhile, through “shouts and blows”, it not only deconstructs Buddhist language but also deconstructs all languages related to thinking, attempting to convey doctrines and Zen insights through a wordless language (Huo 2016b, p. 16).

The rationale behind these ideas lies in the inherent logic that while language, as the home of being, can articulate profound thoughts, it also intrinsically contains limitations in comprehending the essence of these thoughts. This can lead to the alienation of language, which can only directly present concrete empirical facts and the tangible material world, often appearing impotent or even superfluous. As a result, the Dharma may also become imprisoned within the confines of language. Human experience is indefinite and non-regular, rendering language powerless in expressing the full spectrum of human experience and the spiritual world with infinite mysteries. Therefore, “understanding of language as a medium, or a carrier, of truth not only prevents language from participating in the message of truth itself, but makes it a liability for one’s understanding of truth.” (Park 2002) Thus, the linguistic practice in Zen aims to dismantle the alienation of language, to introspect, and to let go of attachments to thoughts within the mind. By establishing one’s true nature, one transcends the world. As Huineng stated, encapsulating the path to breaking through the limitations of language in Zen: “The wondrous principle of the buddhas has nothing to do with words 諸佛妙理, 非關文字” (The Platform Sutra, Number Seven: Encounters, Huineng 2000, p. 54; 六祖壇經:機緣品第七, 惠能 Huineng 2013, p. 117). The true essence of the Dharma is not found within words but in maintaining a certain distance from the world, valuing inner realization, breaking free from external fetters, imprisonments, and physical entities.

3. The Dialectics of Language: Words as Raft and the Middle Path of Awakening Through Employing 用 and Transcending 離

Chinese traditional linguistic philosophy, commencing with Zhuangzi’s assertion that “language has never possessed constant meaning (yanshi weiyouchang, 言未始有常)”, reveals the inherent fluidity of linguistic signification. The Zen Buddhist attitude towards language, however, is distinctly more dialectical. It simultaneously acknowledges language as a path, with textual scriptures serving as an entryway, while emphasizing the principle of “not abandoning words (buli wenzi, 不離文字)” yet “not clinging to words (buzhuo wenzi, 不著文字)”. This establishes a unique path to enlightenment, navigating between recitation and transcendence. The Platform Sutra constructs a dialectical unity between employing language (yongyan, 用言) and transcending language (liyan, 離言), stressing the manifestation of the “Middle Way” through the mutual dependence of relative concepts.

As previously stated, “only believe that the Buddha is wordless, and lotus blooms will issue from your mouth”, this signifies that language, when not clung to as substantial signs, or “xiang相”, can function as a “raft simile (fayu, 筏喻)”–to be abandoned upon reaching the shore, not clung to after crossing. Essentially, while Zen emphasizes instant revelation, or sudden awakening (dunwu, 頓悟), it never negates the foundational role of scriptural texts. The dialogue in the Platform Sutra illustrates this:

I then asked the person what sutra he was reciting, and he said, ‘The Diamond Sutra.’ I also asked, ‘Where did you get this sutra?’ ‘客誦何經?’ 客曰: ‘《金剛經》.’ 復問: ‘從何所來, 持此經典?’

(The Platform Sutra, Number One Account of Origins, Huineng 2000, p. 17; 六祖壇經: 行由品第一, 惠能 Huineng 2013, p. 2)

This exchange between Huineng and the visiting monk elucidates the meaning of “language as a path.” When the visitor recited the Diamond Sutra passage “abide nowhere and give rise to the mind 應無所住而生其心”, Huineng experienced sudden awakening, verifying the teaching that “merely uphold the Diamond Sutra, and you will immediately perceive your own nature and directly become a Buddha 但持《金剛經》, 即自見性, 直了成佛”. Here, “reciting and upholding (chisong, 持誦)” is not mechanical memorization, but using the text as a medium to trigger an inner realization of the “emptiness of all dharmas (zhifa kongxiang, 執法空相)”. Huineng further cites the Diamond Sutra: “All phenomena with signs are illusory 凡所有相, 皆是虛妄”, classifying language itself as a type of sign. This judgment acknowledges language’s provisional existence while revealing its fundamentally illusory nature: language is a tool guiding towards awakening, not truth itself. The process of scriptural engagement demonstrates that Zen does not negate words; rather, it assigns them the function of a “rope.” When people cling to the “substantial reality” of language, Zen Buddhism uses “illusoriness” to shatter this attachment. When people deny the necessity of words, Zen Buddhism employs “recitation and upholding” to clarify their utility. This dialectical stance is also evident in the Platform Sutra:

Nonabiding is to consider in one’s fundamental nature that all worldly [things] are empty, with no consideration of retaliation—whether good or evil, pleasant or ugly, and enemy or friend, etc., during times of words, fights, and disputation 於世間善惡好醜, 乃至冤之與親, 言語觸刺欺爭之時, 并將為空, 不思酬害

(The Platform Sutra, Number Four: Meditation and Wisdom, Huineng 2000, p. 43; 六祖壇經: 定慧品第四, 惠能 Huineng 2013, p. 86)

The conflict inherent in language is fundamentally empty, yet practitioners must cultivate the forbearance of “not contemplating retaliation” within linguistic exchanges. This is using language to refine the mind (yiyan lianxin, 以言連心).

Meanwhile, Zen offers a deeper interpretation of “language as a path” through the deconstruction of attachment to words. The Platform Sutra states:

Those who are entirely attached to emptiness will increase their ignorance. Those who are attached to emptiness will slander the sutras. Just speak and do not use written words. Suppose you do not use written words. If there are also people [to whom] you should not speak, just say as follows: “This is the characteristic of written words.” You may also say, “I simply speak, but do not posit written words.” This is not to posit written words. They are also written words. Hearing someone preach, you may revile them, saying they are attached to written words 執空之人有謗經, 直言不用文字. 既云不用文字, 人亦不合語言, 只此語言, 便是文字之相. 又云: ‘直道不立文字.’ 即此不立兩字亦是文字. 見人所說, 便即謗他言著文字.

(The Platform Sutra, Number Ten: Transmission, Huineng 2000, p. 139; 六祖坛经: 付囑品第十, 惠能 Huineng 2013, pp. 192–93)

This argument exposes the contradiction within the extreme view of transcending words: those denying words must still use language to express their view, and language itself manifests as words. A more illustrative case is Huineng’s dialogue with the nun Wujincang. The nun, holding the sutra, asked about characters. Huineng directly said, “As for the characters, I do not recognize them; as for the meaning, please ask 字即不識, 義即請問”. Faced with the challenge, “You don’t even recognize the characters, how can you understand the meaning 字尚不識, 焉能會義?”, he responded, “The wondrous principle of all Buddhas has nothing to do with words 諸佛妙理, 非關文字”. The core of this dialogue lies in recognizing that words are symbols expressing meaning, while the principle (li, 理) transcends the symbolic system. As Huineng asserted, “the principle is greater than verbal expression 理大於言說”. The ultimate value of language is to point towards the principle, not to confine it. Clinging to the form of words (such as literacy) is precisely the error criticized in the Platform Sutra:

You are now relying on the words but going against the meaning. With an annihilationist impermanence and a deterministic permanence, you have misunderstood the Buddha’s last words, which are perfect, wondrous, and subtle. What benefit can there be in reading [the sutra] a thousand times? 汝今依言背義, 以斷滅無常及確定死常, 而錯解佛之圓妙最後微言. 縱覽千遍, 有何所益?

(The Platform Sutra, Number Eight: Sudden and Gradual, Huineng 2000, p. 77; 六祖壇經: 頓漸品第八, 惠能 Huineng 2013, p. 168)

Zen’s emphasis on not clinging to words is essentially a lucid recognition of the instrumentality of language. Like abandoning the raft after crossing the river or forgetting the finger after seeing the moon, practitioners must use words to enter the li but cannot linger on their surface structure. Huineng’s own characteristic of “speaking concisely and hitting the principle directly, not relying on words 言簡理當, 不由文字” exemplifies the practice of transcending signs while engaging with them: though illiterate, he penetrated directly to the principle through the essence of language. This is “using words without being used by words 用文字而不被文字用”.

Furthermore, Zen Buddhism holds that true enlightenment transcends the realm of language and logic and can only be achieved through direct experience (Dumoulin 2007). Although the Platform Sutra declares the Buddha has no words to speak 佛無言說, it consistently employs poetic Gathas and metaphors to instruct sentient beings. This embodies the Bodhisattva practice of “skillful means 方便善巧” (Dong and Yan 2024). The uniqueness of Zen’s “language as a path” is further manifested in encounter dialogues (jifeng, 機鋒, lit. point of the spear), an unconventional linguistic form employing a paradoxical path of using language to dismantle language. When a disciple asks, “What is the meaning of the Patriarch’s coming from the West?”, the master answers, “The cypress tree in the courtyard.” When a warrior inquires about the meaning of “nothing,” Master Tianlong extends his finger and commands him to cut it off. Such seemingly irrelevant responses utilize the indeterminacy of language to shatter the shackles of conventional semantics. This validates the deeper logic of “language as a path”: conventional language follows a referential logic of “one word, one meaning,” while jifeng deliberately creates semantic rupture, destroying the disciple’s reliance on linguistic certainty. This constitutes another interpretation of the Platform Sutra’s statement that provocative language is empty, illusory signs 觸刺語言是虛空幻相. This method of using words to break words 以言破言 precisely aims to guide practitioners beyond the signs of language to realize the true nature wherein to call it a thing misses the mark. As the Platform Sutra states, if one “clings to signs externally and practices methods seeking truth 著相於外, 而作法求真”, then “for eons one will not see the nature 累劫不得見性”. Only through a sudden awakening within linguistic paradox to the state where “the path of speech is cut off, the place of mental activity ceases” can true nature be realized. The essence of jifeng is language’s self-transcendence: it utilizes language’s instrumentality while negating its limitations in an unconventional manner. This resonates with Huineng’s holding the scroll, asking about characters: the former uses heretical speech to shatter attachments, the latter demonstrates principle through the practice of understanding meaning without knowing characters. Both point to the core concept that words are the path, not the destination.

Consequently, in the Platform Sutra, language neither succumbs to the dogmatism of “words can fully express meaning (yanneng jinyi, 言能盡意)” nor lapses into the nihilism of “abandoning words and wisdom (jueyan qizhi, 絕言棄智)”. Instead, it realizes its true nature within the dialectic of use and transcendence. Words are the necessary starting point for awakening, yet they must be continually transcended in practice. Only by emulating Huineng “relying on words without betraying the meaning, transcending signs while directly engaging with the principle 依言不背義, 離相而即理” can one, within the dialectic of upholding scriptures and transcending words, arrive at the realm of “directly becoming a Buddha (zhiliao chengfo, 直了成佛)”. The profound implication of this thought is that any knowledge system or linguistic expression is a “path”. To realize the ultimate truth, one must maintain a transcendent awareness of the tool while employing it.

4. “The Two Paths Mutually Condition Each Other 二道相因”: The Negational Discourse of Language

Zen discourse is well known for its use of double negation, affirming while negating and negating while affirming. Based on dialectical methods, Zen language adeptly conveys the ambiguous state between what is knowable and unknowable, expressing both clearly and profoundly the intended language and meaning. The Zen Buddhist discourse, particularly as crystallized in the Platform Sutra, frequently employs language not merely for assertion but as a sophisticated tool of negation, deconstructing conceptual fixation to point towards ineffable truth. This methodology finds its explicit theoretical framework in the “Twelve Pairs of Dharmic Forms 法相語言十二對” enumerated in Huineng’s final instructions:

The response of words and dharmas, the response of being and non- being, the response of form and formless, the response of with characteristics and without characteristics, the response of defiled and undefiled, the response of form and emptiness, the response of motion and stillness, the response of pure and impure, the response of ordinary and sage, the response of monk and layperson, the response of old and young, the response of large and small 語與法對, 有與無對, 有色與無色對, 有相與無相對, 有漏與無漏對, 色與空對, 動與靜對, 清與濁對, 凡與聖對, 僧與俗對, 老與少對, 大與小對.

(The Platform Sutra, Number Ten: Transmission, Huineng 2000, p. 82; 六祖坛经: 付囑品第十, 惠能 Huineng 2013, p. 191)

These pairs represent the fundamental dualistic constructs through which ordinary consciousness apprehends and categorizes reality. In a critical way, Huineng presents them not as ultimate truths to be affirmed, but as the very latticework of delusion that the adept must learn to navigate through negation. The pairs are the material upon which the negational discourse operates. Their presentation systematically maps the conceptual battlefield, identifying the primary oppositions that the practitioner must learn to see through and transcend. The famous “Debate on the Wind and Banner” exemplifies Zen’s transcendence of worldly illusions and transcends the existing state. Huineng interjected in an endless debate between two monks on whether it was the wind or the banner that moved, stating, “It is not the wind that moves, nor the banner; it is the mind of the benevolent that stirs 不是風動, 不是幡動, 仁者心動”. While the monks were fixated on the literal appearances of wind and banner, Huineng transcended the linear thinking pattern, negating both and examining the current phenomenon from a higher level, quoted what Yinzong said about the Nirvana Sutra (niepanjing, 涅槃經), and gave a completely different answer.

Conventional linguistic expressions typically adhere to specific logical structures and semantic norms, with the intention of depicting and demarcating the properties, relations, and states of entities. In the framework of cognitive paradigms, one tends to ascribe the fluttering of a flag to the external physical impetus of wind. Nevertheless, the negative mode of expression in Zen Buddhism challenges this tradition. In the statement “it is the mind of the benevolent that stirs”, it eschews the dichotomous thinking of subject and object, which views phenomena as objective existences independent of the subject, along with their movements and changes. It declines to describe the physical attributes and movement patterns of wind and the flag in the usual manner. The negation here is not a rejection of the physical phenomena of wind movement or flag movement, nor is it aimed at constructing a knowledge system regarding external phenomena. Rather, it negates the understanding and articulation of such phenomena based on conventional dualistic thinking, dissolving one’s fixation on the conventional knowledge and concepts constructed by language. It repudiates the view that attributes phenomena solely to external objective factors and instead shifts the focus to the movement within the subject’s inner world. It spurs practitioners to reflect upon the intricate relationship between language and the ultimate reality, making them aware that language is not simply a straightforward reflection of the ultimate reality. Its own structure and logic might veil the deeper connotations related to the mind-nature within the ultimate reality. Philosophically, Zen Buddhism endeavors to disclose that the phenomena of all things in the world are not substantial movements existing independently but are inextricably linked to the subject’s mind-nature state. The stir of the mind stems from the failure to apprehend the Buddha-nature, the inability to achieve the same clarity as the world, and the inability to merge with the Buddha-nature. This guides people onto the path of delving into the authentic essence of life.

Another paradigmatic instance of negative enunciation within Zen Buddhism pertains to the famous “quest for the Dharma by Shenxiu” and the “attainment of the Dharma by Huineng” in the Platform Sutra. While Shenxiu’s Gatha says “The body is the Bodhi tree, The mind is like a clear mirror 身是菩提樹, 心如明鏡台”, the mode of expression here is affirmative. This metaphorical mode of expression bears resemblance to the Gathas in Buddhist scriptures and exhibits distinctive Buddhist traits. This Gatha embodies the concept of gradual spiritual cultivation through language. By drawing a metaphorical parallel between the “body” and the Bodhi tree and between the “mind” and the mirror stand, it functions as a linguistic device to guide practitioners in cognizing their own existential states. In this context, language assumes the role of a tool for depicting and facilitating the gradual elevation of practitioners’ spiritual planes. It is as if, through the recurrent employment of language as a reminder (“at all times we must strive to polish it 時時勤拂拭”), the objective of purifying the mind (“and must not let the dust collect 勿使惹塵埃”) is to be realized. The language here is characterized by a definite referentiality, directed towards an entity of the mind that demands perpetual purification. The task of language, with the aim of effectuating its modification and purification, lies in propelling practitioners towards the goal of maintaining a pure mental state by delineating the act of dust removal. Conversely, Huineng’s Gatha constitutes a negation. The phrases “Bodhi originally has no tree; the mirror also has no stand 菩提本無樹, 明鏡亦非台” assume a linguistic structure of the form “A is not A” or “A does not exist”. It appears to convey an absence of affirmative content, yet it undertakes a radical deconstruction and dismantling of the original meaning. And the statement “Buddha-nature is always clean and pure, where is there room for dust 本來無一物, 何處惹塵埃?” represents the inevitable corollary following this deconstruction. Huineng holds the view that the concepts depicted by language are themselves illusory constructs, and the authentic Dharma transcends these linguistic entities. This reflects a critique of the proclivity of language towards fixation and reification, pointing towards a state of “emptiness” that surpasses language per se and defies comprehensive linguistic description. This radical deconstruction extends to the most fundamental conceptual attachment, as Peng et al. (2011) introduce the concept of “no-self”, a core negational principle that challenges inherent notions of identity and self-hood. In this regard, language serves merely as an impetus for the arousal of enlightenment rather than as an accurate portrayal of the spiritual realm. Once enlightenment is attained, the various concepts constructed by language will relinquish their binding influence. Also, the distinctive Gathas articulated by the Masters materialize the faculty of spiritual cultivation through a multiplicity of images. The syntactical structures are characteristically regular and metrical, with a stable cadence and a systematically progressive logic. These Gathas engender a poetic tension via juxtaposition and contrast, encapsulating profound Zen connotations within simple formulations. The employment of such poetic modalities, with “visionary imagery” and wisdom (McMahan 2002), is of substantial import. It surmounts the constraints of explicit didacticism.

A critical reappraisal of the Shenxiu–Huineng Gatha contrast reveals its function as a rhetorical construct within the Platform Sutra’s Southern Chan agenda. The juxtaposition of Shenxiu’s “body is the bodhi tree” and Huineng’s “bodhi originally has no tree” cannot be read as neutral doctrinal reporting. Rather, it epitomizes the text’s deliberate othering of Northern Chan: Shenxiu’s actual teachings, rooted in the orthodox Śrāvakayāna tenet of innate mind purity obscured by adventitious defilements, are reductively framed as “gradualist” to caricature Northern practice as dualistic and effort-dependent. This serves two polemical aims: First, it erects Huineng as the transcendent innovator whose sudden awakening dismantles conceptual striving. Second, it naturalizes sectarian hierarchy by recasting the North-South divide not as doctrinal conflict but as a pedagogical accommodation of capacity, where “gradual” methods (jianxiu, 漸修) merely suit the deluded (chungen, 鈍根), while sudden awakening defines the superior lineage (ligen, 利根). This contrast operates as a metalinguistic demonstration of the Platform Sutra’s core philosophy. Shenxiu’s Gatha deploys substantializing metaphors that reify mind-nature into an object requiring maintenance, as a linguistic act that entrenches dualistic perception by proposing a “defiled mind” separate from the purifying agent. Such language exemplifies attachment to signs (zhuoxiang, 著相), perpetuating what the sutra condemns as clinging to characteristics while seeking truth. Conversely, Huineng‘s negations perform apophasis in action: by dismantling Shenxiu’s conceptual edifice through counter-assertions, they enact the “Twelve Pairs” dialectic, not to replace one dogma with another, but to expose all linguistic designations as empty. His culminating statement of originally not one thing exists transcends negation itself, embodying the sutra’s ultimate ideal: language that self-immolates upon triggering direct insight. Thus, the Platform Sutra uses this contrast not just to prove its sect’s validity, but to teach its view that language can lead to salvation, by setting it up in a way that works for teaching. Shenxiu’s Gatha becomes a cautionary exhibit of how language binds consciousness through reification, while Huineng’s retort models liberation via strategic de-signification. This transforms a historical rivalry into a paradigm of the text’s radical claim: that awakening hinges not on doctrinal correctness but on how one navigates language’s inherent traps.

Another negational discourse is enacted in the enigmatic encounter between Huineng and his disciple Huiji in Chapter 8 (On Sudden and Gradual Teachings). When Huiji probes the limits of meditative perception, asking “Venerable Master, when you sit in meditation, do you see or not 和尚坐禅還見不見?”, Huineng responds not with affirmation or denial, but with a performative act and a counter-question rooted in direct experience: striking Huiji three times with his staff and demanding, “I am hitting you—does it hurt or not 吾打汝痛不痛?” Huiji’s paradoxical reply, “It is both painful and not painful 亦痛亦不痛”, encapsulates the core strategy. His answer deliberately occupies and then collapses the binary (“painful” or “not painful”), refusing conceptual imprisonment. Huineng’s subsequent dismissal of both possibilities (If I said I saw, I would be attached to the ordinary; if I said I did not see, I would be attached to extinction) underscores that the negation of the terms, rather than any positive content within them, is the path towards liberation from views. Language here functions apophatically; the dialectic aims to exhaust conceptual grasping, leaving the mind free.

The practical application of this negational hermeneutic is then laid out with striking clarity. Huineng instructs his disciples directly:

When people inquire about the doctrines, when they ask of being, respond with non-being; when they ask of non-being, respond with being. When they ask of the ordinary, respond with the sagely, and when they ask of the sagely, respond with the ordinary. Through the two modes of speaking you will generate the doctrine of the middle. Respond to them one by one, and if there are any other questions, make up [your response] according to this and you will not go wrong 若有人問汝義, 問有將無對, 問無將有對, 問凡以聖對, 問聖以凡對. 二道相因, 生中道義. 如壹問壹對, 余問壹依此作, 即不失理也.

(The Platform Sutra, Number Ten: Transmission, Huineng 2000, p. 84; 六祖坛经: 付囑品第十, 惠能 Huineng 2013, p. 193)

This is the engine of the negational discourse, as a deliberate strategy of counter-assertion, systematically using the opposite pole of any presented concept to destabilize attachment to that concept itself. The goal is not to establish the opposite as true, but to demonstrate the inherent interdependence and ultimate emptiness of both poles within a pair. This dynamic interplay, this refusal to settle on any fixed position within the conceptual dyad, is what gives rise to the meaning of the Middle Way, a realization that transcends the dichotomy itself. For one thing, as Wang (2000) states, these “indirect communication, such as the use of paradoxical, tautological and poetic language, which best demonstrate the principle of “never tell too plainly’”. For another, language, in this rigorous dialectic, becomes the vehicle for its own deconstruction, pointing relentlessly beyond the limitations of “existence”, “non-existence”, “saint”, “sinner”, and all constructed opposites, towards the non-abiding mind of awakening. The discourse stirs precisely to still the conceptual turbulence, embodying the profound negational pulse at the heart of Zen’s linguistic praxis.

5. “Reciting with the Mouth While Practicing in the Mind 口念心行”: Unity of Speech, Mind, and Action in the Platform Sutra

In the Platform Sutra, Huineng presents a radical reorientation towards spiritual practice, relentlessly challenging the disembodied use of words. Its core insistence lies not in the rejection of language, but in demanding its complete integration with genuine insight and transformative conduct. This unity of speech, mind, and action constitutes the vital pulse of authentic awakening, distinguishing the deluded from the wise.

The Platform Sutra delivers a scathing critique of spiritual speech divorced from inner realization and ethical action. This disjunction manifests in several debilitating forms. Consider the vivid admonition:

People of this world always recite prajñā with their mouths, but they don‘t recognize the prajñā of the self-natures. This is like talking about eating, which doesn’t satisfy one’s hunger. If you just talk about emptiness with your mouths, you won’t be able to see the nature for a myriad eons. Ultimately, this is of no benefit at all 世人終日口念般若, 不識自性般若, 猶如說食不飽. 口但說空, 萬劫不得見性, 終無有益.”

(The Platform Sutra, Number Two: Prajñā, Huineng 2000, p. 28; 六祖壇經:般若品第二, 惠能 Huineng 2013, pp. 41–42)

This food-talking metaphor critiques intellectualizing Buddhism as ontological starvation, divorcing linguistic signs (prajñā, bore, 般若) from their embodied referent (self-nature prajñā, zixing bore, 自性般若). Extending this critique, the text vehemently condemns the dissonance between outward speech and inward disposition, as do not practice deceit and crookedness in your mind while speaking only of straightforwardness with your mouth. Do not speak of the Samādhi of Oneness while not practicing the straightforward mind 莫心行諂曲, 口但說直, 口說一行三昧, 不行直心. Mouth-speech exposes a karmic bifurcation where language becomes a mask for deceit or crookedness, perverting samādhi into performative hypocrisy.

This bifurcation fractures the very core of spiritual cultivation. As it warns, if the mouth speaks good words but the mind is not good, then, though one may seem to have samādhi (ding, 定) and prajñā (hui, 慧), they are not equal. If mind and speech are both good; if inner and outer are one suchness, then samādhi and prajñā are equal 內外一如,定慧即等. Unequal samādhi-prajñā here signifies a soteriological rupture: conceptual good words absent mind-goodness render meditative states spiritually inert. The danger extends further to intellectual debate divorced from realization: self-awakening and self-cultivation do not lie in disputation; if one disputes sequence or superiority, one is the same as a deluded person. Here, disputation (zheng, 諍) is redefined not as dialectics but as afflictive attachment, where sequence becomes a proxy for ego-driven hierarchy. The Platform Sutra frames disembodied speech as a “triple negation” of Dharma: firstly, words detached from self-nature prajñā become empty signifiers; secondly, hypocritical speech fractures the non-duality of inner intention and outer expression; and thirdly, conceptual disputes fuel the very afflictions that block awakening. This constitutes a radical deconstruction of Buddhist scholasticism, namely, not by rejecting language but by subordinating it to the primacy of mind-action (xinxing, 心行).

Against the backdrop of these pitfalls, the Platform Sutra elevates mind-action or heart-conduct as the defining characteristic of genuine wisdom. The famous dictum “The deluded speak with the mouth; the wise practice with the mind 迷人出口, 智者心行” establishes the fundamental criterion for discernment. Elaborating on this, it states:

This must be practiced in the mind, not recited by the mouth. To recite it orally without practicing it in the mind is [as unreal] as a phantasm or hallucination, [and as evanescent] as dew or lightning. To recite it orally and practice it mentally is for the mind and mouth to correspond. The fundamental nature is Buddha. There is no other buddha apart from this nature 此須心行, 不在口念. 口念心不行, 如幻、如化、如露、如電; 口念心行, 則心口相應. 本性是佛,離性無別佛

(The Platform Sutra, Number Two: Prajñā, Huineng 2000, p. 28; 六祖壇經: 般若品第二, Huineng 2013, p. 57)

This quadruple simile reveals unembodied recitation as ephemeral illusion, while mind-speech resonance establishes integration as somatic truth. Authentic practice is thus dynamic and continuous, woven into the fabric of daily life, as the deluded recite sutras, but at the very moment of reciting, they have falsehood and error. If thought after thought is practiced, this is called true nature. The thought-after-thought practice (niannian ruoxing, 念念若行) transforms recitation from textual repetition to karmic continuity, actualizing true nature through micro-actions. Inner-outer one suchness is the non-dual pivot enabling samādhi-prajñā unity: ethical consistency precedes meditative realization. Thus, mind-action operates as the axial principle of Huineng’s soteriology. It functions on the tier of temporal immediacy which collapses the gap between cognition and enactment, making every instant a site of awakening; on the tires of somatic integrity, as it dissolves the mind-body dichotomy, framing the speech-act as embodied mind with non-dual ethics, reconstituting goodness not as abstract virtue but as the seamless unity of intention and expression.

The culmination of this path of unity is a mode of being and teaching that transcends attachment to forms. The Platform Sutra’s final instruction emphasizes practice-oriented teaching:

If you listen to this explanation and do not cultivate, you will on the contrary generate false thoughts. Just cultivate according to the Dharma, bequeathing the Dharma without abiding in characteristics. If all of you would be enlightened, rely on this for your preaching, rely on this for your functioning, rely on this for your practice, rely on this for [all] your actions; you would not lose the fundamental doctrine 若聽說不修, 令人反生邪念. 但依法修行, 無住相法施. 汝等若悟, 依此說, 依此用, 依此行, 依此作, 即不失本宗.

(The Platform Sutra, Number Ten: Transmission, Huineng 2000, pp. 83–84; 六祖坛经: 付囑品第十, 惠能 Huineng 2013, p. 193)

The formless Dharma-teaching here inverts pedagogical priority: practice precedes teaching, ensuring the Dharma remains a lived reality beyond characteristics. This naturally leads to the state of non-disputation or no conflict/affliction elucidated earlier. The culmination of mind-action is a paradoxical linguistics of silence, leveraging language while negating attachment to its forms, turning Dharma-teaching into an enactive trigger for practice.

Thus, the Platform Sutra’s relentless call for mind-action dismantles the delusion that verbal proficiency signifies spiritual attainment. True wisdom is inseparable from the seamless unity of insight, ethical speech, and transformative action. It is found in the reciting and practicing, the inner and outer one suchness, culminating in the formless Dharma-teaching of one liberated from conceptual entanglements and the afflictive urge to dispute. To know the Dharma, according to Huineng, is to be it, completely and without reservation, in the dynamic unity of mind, word, and deed. This embodied integration is the very heart of Zen practice and the unmistakable mark of the genuine sage.

6. Historical Context: Zen’s Linguistic Revolt Against Scholastic Buddhism

The rise of Tang Buddhist scholasticism created the essential backdrop against which the Platform Sutra crafted its radical philosophy of language. By the early 8th century, elite monastic institutions, those of Huayan (huayanzong, 華嚴宗) and Yogācāra (weishizong, 唯識宗) in particular, had developed intricate systems of doctrinal analysis. Huayan constructed its “Four Dharma Realms” (sifajie, 四法界) system, affirming cosmic unity through dialectical interpenetration (lishi wuai, 理事無礙) with the characteristic of constructing a perfect system through dialectical language, while Yogācāra’s “Three Natures” (sanxing, 三性) framework, namely, parikalpita-svabhāva (bianji suozhixing, 遍計所執性), paratantra-svabhāva (yita qixing, 依他起性), and pariniṣpanna-svabhāva (yuancheng shixing, 圓成實性), demanded precise linguistic definitions to map cognition onto ultimate reality. The latter doctrine holds that precise delineation of these three natures can help practitioners understand the relationship between cognition and ultimate reality. Such systems, though philosophically profound, demanded mastery of complex Sanskrit-derived terminology such as parikalpita-svabhāva and fostered a culture where textual exegesis equated to spiritual authority. Notably, Yogācāra took name and form analysis, such as the precise definitions of “parikalpita-svabhāva” and “paratantra-svabhāva”, as its core, holding that the accurate reference of language is the premise for grasping truth. Huayan, on the other hand, constructed a pervasive system with dialectical language of li and shi being unobstructed, but its language still relies on affirming conceptual connections as the foundation. This conceptual proliferation (prapañca) in Madhyamaka critiques became the target of Zen’s iconoclasm. The Platform Sutra’s “directly pointing to the mind” and “sudden awakening” emerged not as isolated innovations but as conscious counter-discourse. Huineng’s disdain for “doctrinalists” (zhijie zongtu, 知解宗徒) who recite scriptures without penetrating their meaning directly lampooned the scholastic tendency to prioritize intellectual parsing over embodied insight. As McRae (2003) observes, Southern Zen framed Northern Zen’s “gradual purification” as emblematic of this textual fetishism, which is a reduction strategically ignoring Shenxiu’s actual emphasis on contemplating the pure mind (guanxin, 觀心). Schlütter (2000, pp. 78–82) further notes that Huineng’s illiteracy, far from a biographical accident, was performative: it embodied the rejection of scripture-centric legitimacy, asserting Southern Zen as the anti-scholastic lineage. “Not establishing words and letters” never denied the practicability of enlightenment but opposed taking words as enlightenment itself. This linguistic strategy always pointed to the specific practice of illuminating the mind and seeing one’s nature, just like reciting with the mouth while practicing in the mind, rather than unverifiable mysterious experiences (Schlütter 2000, pp. 124–27).

The Platform Sutra employs linguistic strategies that serve both pedagogical and sectarian purposes beyond metaphysical claims. In terms of pedagogy, it adopts anti-rational methods such as gong’an. By giving responses that do not conform to logical expectations, Zen masters lead students into a state of “doubt mass” as a cognitive deadlock where direct intuition replaces discursive thinking. This is consistent with Huineng’s view and the idea of using language to break language is fundamentally different from the “mantras” of Indian Tantric Buddhism. The latter relies on the “mysterious efficacy” of language, while the former guides self-awakening by deconstructing concepts, the “Twelve Pairs” method in particular, with the core of eliminating attachments rather than relying on mysterious forces. For sectarian distinction, Southern Zen positions itself as a special transmission outside scriptures and takes non-reliance on words as a feature to distinguish itself from other lineages. The Platform Sutra depicts Northern Zen as advocating gradual cultivation and being bound by texts (such as Shenxiu’s Gatha), thus forming a contrast: Southern Zen’s sudden enlightenment is associated with innate awakening, while Northern Zen’s gradual cultivation is linked to effort with delusion. As Welter (2006, p. 78) points out, such expression interprets doctrinal differences as differences in “sharp or dull faculties”, thereby shaping the sectarian order. Yet such a binary distinction obscures the doctrinal continuity between the two schools and the diversity of Chan thought in that period. Meanwhile, as is mentioned earlier, Zen’s linguistic revolt cannot be divorced from indigenous Chinese thought. The Platform Sutra’s emphasis on forgetting words upon grasping meaning directly echoes Zhuangzi’s fish-trap parable. Similarly, its dialectical negation resonated with Xuanxue (玄學, Metaphysics in Wei and Jin Dynasties) debates on meaning beyond words (yanyizhibian, 言意之辯), notably Wang Bi’s claim that words exist to explicate meaning; once meaning is grasped, words can be forgotten. This syncretism enabled Zen to present itself not as foreign Buddhism but as China’s native spiritual pragmatism, where “everyday mind is the Dao (平常心是道)” supersedes Indian metaphysical complexity. Moreover, this linguistic orientation of Zen has its roots in the Buddhist tradition itself. The early Buddhist raft metaphor in the Diamond Sutra already proposed that language is a tool, not an end. The Platform Sutra is an inheritance and development of this tradition. However, unlike the gentle transcendence of language in early Buddhism, the Platform Sutra achieves transcendence through radical ways such as shouts, blows, and encounter dialogues. This strategic radicalization is a stress response to the excessive reliance on language in Tang Dynasty scholasticism. Comparing the unspeakable self-nature in the Lankavatara Sutra with the words falters to encapsulate the Dao in the Platform Sutra, the former still acknowledges that transcending words needs to take words as a ladder, while the latter directly reaches transcending words by negating words. This difference reflects the extreme practice of the Tang Dynasty Zen on the instrumental understanding of language, and the background of this extremeness is the language worship of scholasticism.

When understood against the backdrop of Tang-era Buddhism, the Platform Sutra’s language strategies directly responded to the scholarly trends of its time. The “Twelve Pairs” method was not just philosophical wordplay. It is precisely opposed to the view of Yogācāra that accurate reference is the premise of grasping truth. Instead of pursuing precise conceptual correspondence, it emphasizes deconstructing reference, like answering “non-existence” when asked about “existence”, forming a direct opposition to Yogācāra’s language view. It systematically challenged the rigid frameworks promoted by leading Buddhist schools like Yogācāra and Huayan, which categorized reality into binaries such as pure/defiled or enlightenment/suffering. By showing these opposites as mutually dependent illusions, the text rejected complex doctrinal systems dominating elite monasteries. This negative dialectics is also distinct from Huayan’s affirmative dialectics. It breaks the conceptual connection itself, forming a sharp contrast with Huayan’s “establishing” a perfect system through language. Similarly, its criticism of “mechanical recitation” took aim at a widespread practice in state-supported temples: chanting scriptures ritually without ethical practice or mental focus is a hollow custom the sutra likened to “dew or lightning” for its fleeting spiritual value. Even the “shouts and blows” served a purpose: using startling physical actions to break students’ fixation on textual learning, embodying the radical call to discard conceptual idols. From a social perspective, this kind of linguistic strategy also catered to the needs of religious popularization in the Tang Dynasty. In the mid and late Tang Dynasty, the state’s support for scholastic sects of Huayan and Yogācāra made them “elite”, which relied on official funding and the literati class, leading their language systems to tilt towards specialization and aristocratization. In contrast, Zen faced ordinary believers like farmers and craftsmen. The choice of not establishing words and letters and directly pointing to the mind was essentially a religious popularization strategy, which replaced the mastery of complex texts with practices that do not require a literary foundation. As Dong (2012) pointed out in his Integrated Buddhism: The Harmonization of Chan and Doctrinal Buddhism, the differentiation between “scholasticism and Zen” in Tang Buddhism was essentially a struggle against monastic knowledge hoarding. The linguistic strategy of the Platform Sutra was both an ideological resistance and a popularization strategy for religious dissemination. In essence, these approaches formed a coherent challenge to Tang Buddhism’s overreliance on intellectualism and ritual.

7. Conclusions

The Platform Sutra articulates a distinctive Zen philosophy of language centered on a dialectic of utilization and transcendence: language functions as a provisional expedient for awakening yet must ultimately be transcended, as ultimate truth exceeds linguistic encapsulation. Language instrumentalizes words to expose their own limitations, guiding practitioners beyond conceptual entrapment toward the ineffable realization of Buddha-nature. This framework operates through three integrated dimensions: ontologically affirming Buddha-nature’s pre-linguistic essence to justify transcending words; strategically employing negational discourse to deconstruct dualisms and subvert linguistic dependency; and pragmatically enforcing unity of speech, mind, and action to replace empty recitation with embodied realization. Historically, this stance emerged as a deliberate counter to Tang Buddhist scholasticism, which prioritized textual exegesis. By framing Huineng’s illiteracy as performative resistance to scripture-centric authority, the text positioned Southern Zen as an anti-scholastic lineage, redefining legitimacy through direct mind transmission rather than doctrinal mastery.

The philosophical movement of language within Zen Buddhism epitomizes an awareness of an inter-subjective and dialogical perspective on language. For ancient Chinese, the realization of meaning in language expression was not predominantly manifested in the strict congruence between the signifier and the signified but was more saliently exemplified in the successful and meaningful exchanges within interpersonal relationships. The rationality of this pragmatic philosophy of Zen Buddhism in the Platform Sutra are manifested in its emphasis on the instrumentality, openness, non-normativity, and communicativeness of language expression. The language of Zen Buddhism in the Platform Sutra articulates the spirit of Buddhist teachings through a mode of expression attuned to Chinese thinking patterns characterized as “words falter in encapsulating the Dao.” This idiosyncratic style is congenially attuned to the thinking patterns and cultural habits of the Chinese people. It accepts the conventional utility of words while establishing their inability to capture ultimate reality (Zhou 2017). Through skillful means, dialectical use, liberating negation, and the insistence on the unity of speech, mind, and action, the Platform Sutra demonstrates how language, despite its limitations, can be wielded as a potent, though ultimately provisional, instrument on the path to revelation and direct insight. Ultimately, the sutra balances the ineffability of truth with the pragmatic use of words, offering an Eastern paradigm that redefines language as a dynamic bridge between discursive thought and direct realization of mind-nature, thus integrating transcendence and practice in Zen’s “directly pointing to the mind” tradition.