Introduction

Aśoka's reign ushered in an era of major transformations in India's religious life. The 6th to 4th centuries BCE had witnessed, in the plains around the Ganges and Jumna rivers, the emergence of the first urban centers in South Asia since the Indus Valley Civilization. While the precise reasons and mechanisms for this development are not fully understood, it has long been taken for granted that it is not mere coincidence that it was accompanied by equally dramatic changes in the sphere of religion —especially the rise to prominence of ascetical movements. Although the precise origins of such movements are unknown, they appear on the scene in two species: one emerging from within the Brahmanical priestly religion that was already more than half a millennium old, and another comprising self-consciously anti-Brahmanical doctrines traced back to legendary teachers whose authority resided in their personal accomplishments (Gotama the Buddha, the ‘Enlightened’; Mahāvīera the Jina, the ‘Victor’). As this story is generally told, it is the Buddhists and the Jains who are in the limelight, bringing new ideas to an old world, challenging the cant and rigid orthodoxy of the brahmin priesthood, just as the early Christians were said to have exposed the hypocrisy and superficiality of Pharisaic piety. And rather as the new Christian vision was embraced and established in the Roman Empire by Constantine, the emperor Aśoka Maurya proclaimed the Buddha's dharma to be the religion of this new world.

With this volume on the theme of tradition, pluralism, and identity, we celebrate the life-long achievements of Professor T. N. Madan both as scholar extraordinaire and wonderful human being, a man who is as secure in his own identity when he is talking with a villager in Kashmir as when he is addressing a scholarly audience in Texas. The Indian tradition down the centuries, however, has managed pluralism primarily within the context of interlocking group identities, the most basic of which is caste. And the caste system, according to the currently prevalent view, is based on purity, each caste being located on a hierarchical gradation of purity. The higher the caste the greater the degree of purity.

This thesis was laid out most boldly and most compellingly by Louis Dumont in his seminal work Homo Hierarchicus first published in 1966. Purity, according to Dumont, is the basis of hierarchy in traditional India and is, therefore, the ideological principle behind the caste system. Quigley (1993: 1), in his critique of the Dumontian thesis, acknowledges that the prevalent view among both Hindus and outside observers considers castes to be “hierarchically ranked on a purity-pollution scale”. Madan (1989: 365) himself states that “according to traditional caste ideology, which is obviously the brain-child of Brahmins, the key to the rank order lies in the notion of ritual purity.” Dumont's thesis has not gone unchallenged.

In what follows I propose to discuss the validity of the reading lokāyata (with or without inflections) and a doubtful word (I would call it a ghost word), lokāyatana occurring in the Śārdūla. (between 200 and 350 CE, included in the Buddhist Sanskrit work, the Divyāvadāna). The readings in the available MSS, Chinese and Tibetan translations, and hence in the three printed editions, are not always the same. The meaning of the word too will depend on the reading adopted.

Let us look at the first two instances:

In (1), Cowell-Neil (C-N) read lokāyatikayajñamantre (619) and in (2), lokāyatayajñatantre (620). Mukhopadhyaya (Mukho.), in both cases, emended the reading to lokāyata yajñamantre and lokāyata yajñamantra (12, 13). He was apparently influenced by the second occurrence of lokāyata along with yajñamantra and mahāpuruṣalakṣaṇa. Although the MSS consulted by him had the word lokāyatana in (2), he preferred to follow C-N, who had emended the reading, as they themselves confessed, ex conjectura, since their MSS had such mislections as lokāyamayajña and laukāyayajña-(620 n5). In the first instance, Mukho.'s MSS have lokāyatika and the Tibetan translation has lokāyataśāstra; so he chose to retain parity of expression by reading lokāyata and yajñamantra (not tantra as in C-N) in both (1) and (2).

I started writing on the Cārvāka, the most uncompromising materialist school of philosophy in ancient India, from 1995 and have continued to work on its different aspects. My researches on this subject are now being offered in a revised and enlarged form, thanks to the interest shown by Dr Federico Squarcini, Florence University.

Each chapter is meant to be read separately, hence some repetitions have been retained. In some cases, references have been made to other chapters. This makes every chapter self-complete and, at the same time, helps readers follow my line of argument.

Admittedly, there is paucity of material relating to the Cārvāka. Still, as in the case of the Presocratic philosophers of Greece, it is possible to reconstruct the basic tenets of this system on the basis of whatever little is found in the works of its opponents and the extracts quoted by them. Notwithstanding distortions, the Cārvāka/Lokāyata has emerged as the lone contender against the pro-Vedic Brahminical schools on the one hand, and the non-Vedic Buddhist and Jain schools on the other. Besides the orthodoxy prevailing around the Vedas, belief in after-life and after-world has been the bone of contention. This will be evident from the way I have arranged the Cārvāka fragments in Chapter 6.

My endeavour has been to disprove certain notions about the Cārvāka/Lokāyata—two of which are generally admitted as being beyond doubt.

Globalization and Its Discontents

The term, ‘globalization,’ has been located primarily in the discourse of economics and politics. In the arena of the global economy the word evokes the activities of the International Monetary Fund, the World Bank, the World Trade Organization, the global dominance of multinational corporations, and popular brand names the likes of Nike, Gucci, Chanel, Coca-Cola, and McDonald's. In the sphere of politics Jan Scholte's felicitous term, ‘super territoriality’ (Scholte 2000) calls to mind international and regional organizations and alliance such as the United Nations, the European Union, NATO or ASEAN, and the historical forces of colonial imperialism or post-cold war American hegemonic power. However, globalization should not be seen solely in economic and political terms. Its impact on culture, religion, personal and community identity has been profound. One has only to stroll through the mega-shopping centers in Bangkok or Chiang Mai to observe the pervasive influence of Western styles, tastes, and mores in that country —an example that can be multiplied many times over in locales around the globe. A recent study of young Thai nouveau riche finds that owning popular brands is not a simple display of materialism but represents a search for personal identity and a way of negotiating relationships (Sukrung 2003). Possessing luxury brands has become a modern talisman, replacing traditional amulets and tattoos as a way of warding off evil, protecting the owner from uncertainty, providing peace of mind, and engendering confidence before one's peers.

Erich Frauwallner, the celebrated historian of Indian philosophy, held that materialism in India was created for the circle of Realpolitikers, practical politicians like Cāṇakya. In it they found a doctrine which, by denying the existence of God, after-life, heaven and hell, etc., put out of their way all moral scruples that were hindrances to their actions. “It is, therefore, no accident,” Frauwallner says, “that the first materialist whom tradition has handed down to us in living and vivid colours, is a King.” The king he mentions is a legendary one: Paesi (Pāyāsi), whose views are recorded in Prakrit (Jain) and Pali (Buddhist) works.

A.K. Warder also proposes that “another materialist school, besides Jayarāśi Bhaṭṭa's, seems to have appeared among the kings themselves and especially their ministers including perhaps the celebrated Vessakara of Magadha, who in the Anguttara Nikāya, Vol. II, expresses a realist view in conformity with Arthaśāstra Lokāyata.”

Both Frauwallner and Warder arrived at the same conclusion on the basis of a supposed connection between materialism and Arthaśāstra, the science of polity. That the legendary founder of the Lokāyata/Cārvāka system and that of a school of Arthaśāstra bear the same name, viz. Bṛhaspati, seems to have contributed to this notion.

All this speculation, I contend, is wide of the mark. Let us take up the issues one by one.

First, king Paesi. In both Jain and Buddhist versions of the story, only one negative idea is stated: there is no soul.

Introduction

The purpose of this essay is to illustrate the prevalence of guru-student relationships in the Mahābhārata. I will argue that not only are stories of teachers and their students central to the epic, involving key characters and pivotal scenes of the narrative, but the guru-disciple relations presented therein are frequently marred by the shortcomings of the characters involved, confused by the circumstances in which they are formed, and morally complicated by the real virtues of some of the characters who nevertheless break the laws of dharma, as they are expressed in the Mānavadharmaśāstra (hereafter referred to as Manu). In a word, the Mahābhārata depicts what cannot but be described as failed teacher-student relationships and in doing so narrates the very deterioration of dharma that one would anticipate in the epic, given the work's larger themes.

That such concerns play themselves out within the parameters of the ideally sacrosanct teacher-student bond —a social institution meant to perpetuate knowledge, both by controlling access to it and ensuring its accurate transmission — further expresses a certain concern for the integrity of the institution. Historically derived from and structurally similar to the father-son bond, the Mahābhārata narrates the social dangers of failed teacher-student relationships, in particular those involving princes and kings, as well as the role that the institution plays in maintaining the integrity of the social order.

In the history of classical Indian philosophy the Cārvāka school is the lone representative of the materialist system. Materialism in India, as we have shown before, had an earlier tradition. But the question is: Does the Cārvāka system represent a continuation of the materialism of the pre- Christian era? In other words, is it just a change of name from Bārhaspatya (the doctrine of Bṛhaspati, the eponymous founder of materialism in India)? At the present state of our knowledge, no definite answer is possible. However, one thing can be said: the philosophical system known at present as the Cārvāka, attained its final form before the eighth century CE and some continuity in its tradition can be observed at least upto the twelfth century. It can be safely asserted that there were a collection of Cārvāka aphorisms and more than one commentary on it. None of these works has been found to date. But a few extracts from the commentaries are scattered in various works and a few verses containing the basic doctrines of the Cārvāka have been quoted in other works.

The names of five commentators of the Cārvākasūtra are known. All of them seem to have flourished before the eighth century or thereabouts. In what follows we propose to give an account of their works. The names are arranged alphabetically, not chronologically.

1. Aviddhakarṇa. He wrote a commentary on the Paurandarasūtra (which may be a namesake of the Cārvākasūtra or a new arrangement of the Cārvāka aphorisms).

Kauṭilya (or Kauṭalya) speaks of four kinds of vidyā: Ānvīkṣikī, Trayī, Vārtā and Daṇḍanīti. Trayī refers to the three Vedas (Rk, Sāman, and Yajuḥ), i.e., theology; Vārtā means agriculture, animal husbandry, and commerce, i.e., economics; and Daṇḍanīti stands for the management of the state, i.e., politics. What is Ānvīkṣikī?

Kauṭilya himself explains that Ānvīkṣikī comprises three studies: Sāṃkhya, Yoga and Lokāyata. Since he mentions the first two separately, it has been assumed that he refers to the earlier Sāṃkhya (not the syncretic Sāṃkhya-Yoga); the Yoga is obviously Patañjali's Yogasūtra, and the Lokāyata must be the materialist philosophy of the Cārvāka-s.

Shamasastry in his English translation of the KA was not so sure about the identification of Lokāyata. He wrote within parentheses: ‘Atheism?’ The two earliercommentaries, Jayamaṅgalā and Nītinirnīti, however, clearly identify Lokāyata with Nāstika philosophy expounded by Bṛhaspati.

The only discordant note is heard in the Malayalam commentary (c. twelfth century). It explains Lokāyata as the Nyāyaśāstra taught by Brahman, Gārgya et al. MM. T. Ganapati Sastri preferred to follow this gloss in his new Sanskrit commentary. MM. Phaṇibhūṣaṇa Tarkavāgīśa was also of the opinion that in ancient times the Nyāyaśāstra was called Lokāyata.

So we have one problem here: What did Kauṭilya mean by Lokāyata—materialist philosophy or logic?

The word, Ānvīkṣikī, too is open to various interpretations. Some have taken it to mean an esoteric doctrine (ātmavidyā), some others, logic (tarkavidyā).

Shaven-headed and clad in yellow-orange robes–whether they are Buddhist monks in Thailand, Sadhus in the Indian countryside, or Hare Krishnas in American airports–that is the enduring image of Indian religion that many westerners carry in their minds. The cultural institution behind these modern manifestations, an institution which we have chosen to call the “renouncer tradition”, is very old. It goes back to about the middle of the first millennium bce and took shape along the mid-Gangetic plane in roughly what is today the state of Bihar.

The image of Indian religion as essentially world-renouncing and ascetic (Dumont 1960), however, is grossly inaccurate. Yet, behind that image lies a kernel of truth: the renouncer tradition has been a central and important ingredient in the socio-cultural mix that contributed to the formation of the historical religions in India. As any human institution, nevertheless, that kernel and the Indian religions themselves changed over time and space.

The earliest historical information about the renouncer tradition comes from the Upaniṣads and other Vedic writings, as well as from Buddhist literary sources. Given the uncertainly of their dates, however, it is impossible to give a precise or certain date to the origin of that tradition: hence, my vague reference to “the middle of the first millennium bce.” The earliest datable source that attests to the existence of the renouncer tradition is the Aśokan inscriptions of the middle of the third century bce.

This chapter calls attention to four post-9/11 episodes involving religion and United States foreign policy in an attempt to show the need for greater nuance in our understanding of the relation between religion and state. A number of observations will be drawn from these four cases. For example, it will be seen that at least in the United States, religion is neither entirely privatized nor entirely commodified and that traditional organized religion continues to pack a counterhegemonic punch. However, it will further be seen that this counterhegemonic face of religion finds only little voice in the American public sphere, which remains more open to conservative and – in the current case – imperial deployments of religion. It thus also becomes clear from the cases exhibited that how religion surfaces in the public sphere is not simply an inexorable effect of modernity but rather the result of contestation (see the contributions in Smith, 2003 for a similar line of argument based on other cases). Finally, in the cases under consideration here, there is a stark indication of what may be lost when we lose religion entirely from the public sphere: the loss also of a distinctly moral appraisal of state matters that properly should be appraised morally. Thus, for all the unhelpful moralism traditional religion brings to politics, it may also be that when the public square is entirely naked religiously (Neuhaus, 1986), it ends up morally naked as well.

The monotheists Mahānubhāvs believe in five manifestations of the One God Parameśvar, also known as Īśvar, ‘Lord’, or Para ‘Supreme’. He is the sole source of liberation to whom is directed exclusive devotion. Even though the Sūtra-pāṭh (10.212; 11.18-19) states that there are and have been an infinite (ananta) number of manifestations of Parameśvar —divine, human, as well as animal— the Mahānubhāvs stick to only five avatārs. These are the five Krssas (panca-kṛṣṇas) comprising two deities —Kṛṣṇa himself and Dattātreya— and three human figures: Cakradhar, the movement's founder, Gusdam RāüỊ, Cakradhar's Mguru, and Cāṅgdev RāüỊ, Gusdam RāüỊ's guru. The avatārs of Parameśvar are «Brahman with hands and feet» (Sūtra-pāṭh 8.18). Mahānubhāvs are therefore exclusivists: Parameśvar alone via the pañca-kṛṣṇas can save the souls (jīvas) entangled in transmigration. Precisely for this reason, the ‘pres- ence’ (sannidhān) of a divine manifestation and the coming in contact with an avatār of Parameśvar is understood to be absolutely essential for attaining deliverance.

The first explicit mention of the pañca-kṛṣṇas is found in the panca-nāma and pañca-kṛṣṇa sections of the Sūtra-pāṭh. These sections, however, were not comprised in the earliest versions of the sacred text since they were added when Kavīśvar, in the early fourteenth century, reconstructed the Sūtra-pāṭh.

Introduction

The familiar discussion of the nexus between religion and economy has emblematic representation in Max Weber's classic account of the elective affinity between Calvinism and the spirit of modern capitalism (Weber, 1991). Weber's demonstration of the supportive role of religious belief for capitalistic development is reversed, however, in his treatment of the history of China in which it is argued that Confucianism and Daoism had a compelling restraining impact on economic rationalization (Weber, 1964). This reversal has an additional dimension, insofar as an unintended consequence of the development of an expanding market economy and concomitant industrialization in China since the Deng Xiaoping reforms in 1978 has been to provide a space for religious expression unprecedented since the advent of the communist regime in 1949, and possibly even before this time given the predominantly negative policies toward religion by the state during the republican period from 1912. Indeed, since the onset of the reform period in the 1980s there has been not only more evidence of religious commitment and activity in both rural and urban areas but also changes in the nature of individual religions and in the numbers of religious adherents.

The most striking religious changes in the People's Republic of China (PRC) over the last 25 or so years have been twofold. The first consists of the reforms in both Buddhism and Daoism, especially in outreach and growth in the numbers of temples, priests and adherents or participants, which have largely been state sponsored or supported.