Category Archives: Sanskrit Philosophy

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Reparations, expiations and prāyaścittas in Mīmāṃsā

Mīmāṃsā authors distinguish broadly between prescriptions (vidhi) and prohibitions (niṣedha). The first ones are linked with a result, so that if one has fulfilled them, they get a reward. The latter, if respected, don’t lead to any result, whereas they lead to sanctions if transgressed.

Prescriptions are further divided into three groups (fixed, occasional and elective). The first two groups are configured as strong obligations (leading to rewards if fulfilled, but omitted only at the risk of sanctions), whereas the latter are configured as recommendations. As for prohibitions, they are divided into prohibitions applying to the person throughout their lives and prohibitions applying only to a specific context.

Next comes the somehow controversial case of reparations or expiations (prāyaścitta). These are in fact contrary-to-duty prescriptions. Such prescriptions have as their addressee someone who did some- thing wrong during the performance of a sacrifice; therefore, they can be taken to be contrary-to- duty (ctd) prescriptions.

Expiations can be used to eliminate the negative consequences of a transgressed prohibition. That is, after having performed the corresponding expiation, a transgressed kratvartha prohibition does no longer lead to a negative output on the sacrifice, and a transgressed puruṣārtha prohibition does no longer lead to a sanction. In Dharmaśāstra (jurisprudence) texts, for instance, authors discuss expiations to be performed after having transgressed the duty to live in Āryāvarta (the part of South Asia where nobles people live and where liberation can be achieved).

There seems, however, to be a basic difference between the first and the second type of expiations, since the first ones seem to be routinely performed in case of contextual errors. By contrast, the second type of expiations seems to be an undesired alternative. In other words, more research is needed, but it is possible that puruṣārtha expiations are of this form:

F (p) → ¬ p ∨ p ∧ Expiation

By contrast, puruṣārtha expiations seem to have this form:

F (p) → ¬ p ∨ p ∧ Sanction ∨ Expiation ∧ Lesser Sanction

What do readers think? Does my understanding match your knowledge of Mīmāṃsā and/or Dharmaśāstra?

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Four ways to deal with conflicts

Mīmāṃsā authors deal with conflicting commands according to a decreasing scale of preferences, which seems to me comparable to the scale of preferences according to which one deals with legal conflicts. Starting from below, 4) The least preferred option is to say that the commands at stake are meaningless or purposeless (nirarthaka). This is the least preferred one because it leads to the fact that the commands are not fulfilled.

Then comes 3) vikalpa, which is equivalent to flipping a coin, i.e., arbitrarily choosing one of the two commands to be fulfilled. This is also not ideal, because one of the two commands is not fulfilled and because this is arbitrarily done.

Then comes 2) bādha, which is equivalent to temporarily suspending the more general command and applying the most specific one. The suspension allows one to retain the general command as the default one for future undetermined instances.

Then comes 1), i.e., understanding the conflict as due to a failure in understanding the commands. One then rephrases the seemingly conflicting commands in a way which shows that no command is even suspended and that there was an exception embedded in the first command. 1) is only applied in the case of conflicts between a prescription and a prohibition.

By contrast, the most favoured solution for conflicts among prescriptions is samuccaya, i.e., fulfilling both prescriptions (e.g. “Do x given a” and “Do y given a” can be solved by doing both x and y given the situation a). If this is not possible, Mīmāṃsā texts speak of recurring to vikalpa (equivalent to flipping a coin to decide which prescription to fulfil). This is the least preferred option, because it implies disregarding one of the two prescriptions. Hence, vikalpa is reserved to the limit case of exactly equivalent prescriptions (e.g., “bake a rice-cake” and “bake a millet-cake”) which fulfil exactly the same role and are interchangeable.

What about the intermediate cases, i.e., cases in which the two prescriptions cannot be both fulfilled, but there are reasons to prefer one over the other? One applies bādha, i.e., suspension of the more general prescription in favour of the more specific one. Suspension is generally not the most preferred solution for deontic conflicts, because it implies the temporary suspension of a command. Mīmāṃsā authors prefer to rephrase both conflicting commands in a way as to embed one within the other in order to respect both. This embedding of one within the other implies the embedment of an exception within a general rule. I.e., out of the conflict between “Do x in every case” and “Don’t do x in case a”, one embeds the second command as an exception of the first as “Do x in every case but a”. This device is called paryudāsa and it is the preferred way to solve conflicts between a prescription and a prohibition.

But why is it the case that the conflict between two prescriptions cannot be solved through the device of paryudāsa (i.e., embed the more specific command as an exception of the more general one)?
Is it because paryudāsa is by definition reserved for cases of conflicts between prescriptions and prohibitions? Is it an a priori decision or a reasoned one? I am currently working on this topic (reasoned suggestions, as usual, are welcome).

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Buddhist ethics by Maria Heim

Maria Heim just published a short book on Buddhist ethics, which starts with the problem of the non-existence of ethics as a separate field of philosophy within South Asian philosophy in general and in Buddhist philosophy in particular. She then moves to moral reflections within the dimension of Buddhist practice. The book includes a comparison of Buddhaghosa’s and Śāntideva’s teachings and is freely available online until January the 7th. You can download it here.

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What were the ṛṣis up to while composing the Vedas? UPDATED

While commenting on PMS 1.1.4, Veṅkaṭanātha makes a long digression aimed at refuting every kind of intellectual intuition, especially as a source for knowing dharma. Dharma, he explains, can only be known through the Veda.
People who claim to have directly perceived dharma are, by contrast, liars. This seems consistent in most cases, but may be problematic when it comes to the Veda, who are believed (by some) to have been composed by some ancient sages of the past, the ṛṣis. Veṅkaṭanātha explains that it is not the case that out of their austerities they gained the ability to directly perceive dharma, also because this would lead to a vicious circle, insofar as efficacious austerities would need to be based on the Veda. Thus, ṛṣis are not an exception to the rule.
This means that the ṛṣis did not compose the Vedas. How comes that they could teach them? Their teaching was based on the Vedas themselves (a Mīmāṃsaka would add: because time is beginningless).

Their (the ṛṣis’) teaching, by contrast, is of human origin, although it may come from the Veda (āgama). Therefore, the listeners [of such teaching] need to reflect on its root and once one eliminates that this teaching is based on a [supersensuous] perception originated out of the dharma’s energy, one needs to look for another pramāṇa for this dharma. And this is nothing but the Veda (itself) (śāstra).

tadupadeśasya tu āgamāyamānasyāpi pauruṣeyatayā śrotṝṇāṃ mūlaparāmarśasāpekṣatvena dharmavīryaprasūtapratyakṣamūlatvapariśeṣe tasmin dharme pramāṇāntaram anveṣaṇīyam. tac ca nānyat śāstrāt.

I am grateful to Meera Sridhara’s comment for having forced me to rethink my interpretation of śrotṛ (see below for her comment).
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The role of the prescription to teach the Veda according to Prabhākara

If you are a Prābhākara, you think that students don’t have to learn the Veda and that they actually do it because of the teachers’ duty to teach it. This certainly solves the problem of having a young boy (younger than 8) deciding to study the Veda based on an analysis of the benefits he will get out of this study. Does this also solve the problem of whether one should study also Mīmāṃsā?

In other words, assuming that one learns the Veda due to the prescription to teach it, does this prescription include the duty to teach the meaning? No, says Veṅkaṭanātha in his refutation of the Prābhākara position. Just like the knowledge of the meaning of the Veda is no included in the prescription to learn it by heart, so it is not included in the prescription to teach it. Both stop their function at the Vedic phonemes.

So far so good, but then Veṅkaṭanātha adds an additional reason why the prescription to teach does not reach until the meaning of the Veda, namely:

अबाधितप्रत्ययोत्पत्तावनपेक्षत्वलक्षणप्रामाण्यस्य वक्ष्यमाणत्वाच्च

And because in the case of the coming into being of a cognition which has not been invalidated, we will say that its validity (prāmāṇya) consists in its being independent. (SM ad 1.1.1, 1971 p. 27)

The reference is clearly to PMS 1.1.5, where the Veda is said to be a pramāṇa because it is independent from any other source. That is, once a cognition has indeed come into being and is not sublated, the only thing which could make one doubt about it is its having the wrong source, but if it is independent on any source, no such worry can arise. Why is this said here? Perhaps because a cognition of the meaning does indeed take place upon learning the Veda by heart and unless one can prove that it is wrong, one needs to consider it valid. Hence, the need to study Mīmāṃsā cannot be justified on the basis of the need to understand the meaning of the Veda.

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Anubandhacatuṣṭaya

Anubandhacatuṣṭaya, i.e., the four points you need to discuss at the beginning of a treatise (its topic, the purpose, the audience and the connection) are sometimes read back into texts which lacked them (as it happens with the maṅgala read into Aṣṭ 1.1.1).

When do they start being explicitly discussed? And by which kind of authors? I know of Buddhists like Dharmottara (and Yāmari, thanks to Eli Franco) and Vedānta ones.

Within Mīmāṃsā, Kumārila at the beginning of the Ślokavārttika, pratijñā section, speaks of content (viṣaya), purpose (prayojana) and connection (sambandha). The absence of the ideal reader is no suprise, since before the end of the first millennium this is often the case.

Within Viśiṣṭādvaita Vedānta, Veṅkaṭanātha at the beginning of his Seśvaramīmāṃsā speaks of content, purpose, ideal reader and seemingly not of the connection, although he might be referring to it by speaking of a pravṛttiprakāra. Hence, the group of four was possibly not yet crystallised?

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The role of the prescription to learn the Veda

Why should one study Mīmāṃsā? In order to understand the meaning of the Veda, say Bhāṭṭa Mīmāṃsā authors. But why should one learn the Veda? According to Bhāṭṭa Mīmāṃsā, because a Vedic prescription itself tells you to do so. The prescription at stake is svādhyāyo ‘dhyetavyaḥ “One should study one’s portion of the Veda”, called adhyayanavidhi. This, however, leads to several problems.

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Does a prescription with two results become meaningless? UPDATED

In his Seśvaramīmāṃsā, Veṅkaṭanātha (aka Vedānta Deśika) discusses why it is the case that we need to study Mīmāṃsā.

The most likely candidate as a prescription causing one to undertake such study is svādhyāyo’dhyetavyaḥ ‘one should learn the portion of the Veda learn in one’s family’. Veṅkaṭanātha will conclude that this prescription culminates in the learning by heart of the phonemes, leaving aside the grasping of the meaning.
Before that point, however, he analyses the view of those who say that the prescription remains valid until one has studied Mīmāṃsā. These think that each prescription needs an indipendently desirable result (phala). The learning alone cannot be construed as such a result (p. 20 of the 1971 edition), because it is not independently desirable. If one were to construe both the learning of one’s portion of the Veda and the understanding of its meaning as the result (bhāvya), the prescription would end up being meaningless.

Therefore, one should
1. either postulate heaven as the result, according to the Viśvajit rule (according to which one can postulate heaven as result whenever no result is mentioned)
2. or postulate that all results could be achieved, since learning the Veda pleases the deities and the ancestors, who would then grant one all results.

I will come back to why these hypotheses are refuted, but meanwhile, why is it the case that the prescription would become meaningless? Because neither the learning of the sheer Vedic phonems, nor the understanding of the meaning are intrinsically desirable, and each prescription needs a desirable goal.

The Sanskrit passage reads as follows:

svādhyāyārthabodhayos tu bhāvyatve vidhyānarthakyaprasaṅgāt

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Artistic frame and philosophically engaging content

atiśakvarī and other meters in the SM

The Seśvaramīmāṃsā by Veṅkaṭanātha is a commentary on PMS, but includes also floating verses and summary verses (saṅgrahaśloka) at the beginning and end of each book and at the end of each adhikaraṇa. All verses are ślokas, possibly in order to be understandable and clear, apart from the first three and the last one of SM 1. These are more the creation of a virtuoso.

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South Asian philosophy on twitter — and how to persuade your colleagues that there is philosophy in South Asia

You might have noticed it already (since I am well-known for being a late adapter), but there are now several scholars of South Asian philosophy on twitter, such as Jonathan Duquette, Marco Ferrante, Marzenna Jakubczak, Malcolm Keating, Birgit Kellner, Amod Lele, Ethan Mills, Cat Prueitt, Evan Thompson… Please feel free to mention the many I am missing in the comments.

I am, as already said, a late adapter, but twitter made me get in touch with interesting people coming from outside my direct field and I enjoyed several insightful conversations. One such conversation is directly relevant for many readers and I would be glad to read your opinion about it.

Short premiss: Someone (teaching in another institute) writes me explaining that their university would like to open a position on “Indian philosophy”, but that some colleagues are against it, claiming that “it is all religion”. Now, it might at times be disheartening to hear such opinions coming from colleague philosophers, but how would you react after a few deep breaths?

Here below comes my first reaction:

There will always be people who think they know what there is even in places they never visited, and I guess it must be hard for you to be patient and try to explain your reasons without getting angry. Usually, books like Matilal’s and Ganeri’s ones are really helpful here. Perhaps, you might also point them to the podcast by Ganeri and Peter Adamson on the history of Indian Philosophy? […] Many philosophers (especially historians of philosophy) know and trust P. Adamson and might be convinced by his opinion.

Also, perhaps you might try to understand where these people come from. Are they historians of philosophy? Analytic philosophers? Phenomenologists? Using Matilal and Mohanty for the latter two groups respectively might really help… Ch. Ram-Prasad’s books are also great to reach people working in the so-called “continental philosophy”.

Last resort: Give them a book which looks “religious”, like Parimal Patil’s Against a Hindu God and ask them what they think of the Buddhist syllogisms and their refutations of the Brahmanical ones.

P.S. I know that your colleagues meant “religion” in a derogatory way, but South Asian philosophy that engages with religion is intellectually extremely stimulating, too (and would they really want to cancel Thomas Aquinas or Augustinus from their philosophical syllabi?)

How do you react in such cases? I have strong hopes in young colleagues (like many of the ones I mentioned above) and in the positive effect their contribution will have, especially once added to the tasks which have already been accomplished by their forerunners. Till that moment comes, however, we will have to think of convincing and polite answers. What will your answer be?