Chapter 11 Hindu law as performance:
ritual and poetic elements in Dharma
stra
Every system of law is, at the same time, a semiotics: a set of rhetorical techniques designed to communicate the law’s commands,
persuade that these commands are just, and impress them on the popular memory. Although this is as true of modern law as it
is of ancient, the semiotics of some older legal systems such as Hindu Dharmastra is markedly different from that of our contemporary legal system. Dharmastra deploys numerous rituals and poetic
and other literary devices in both its textual structures and its depictions of legal practice. Examples are oaths, trials
by ordeal, penances, and symbolic punishments that resemble and coordinate with the operations of the cosmic law of karma. Such devices have inspired the classification
of Dharmastra as “primitive” or “religious” law, a characterization that, although not entirely inaccurate, serves mainly
to defer explanation.
stra is markedly different from that of our contemporary legal system. Dharmastra deploys numerous rituals and poetic
and other literary devices in both its textual structures and its depictions of legal practice. Examples are oaths, trials
by ordeal, penances, and symbolic punishments that resemble and coordinate with the operations of the cosmic law of karma. Such devices have inspired the classification
of Dharmastra as “primitive” or “religious” law, a characterization that, although not entirely inaccurate, serves mainly
to defer explanation.
The present chapter attempts to account for some of these curious features of Dharmastra by describing their semiotic function. In doing so, it borrows from the growing field of legal semiotics which,
sometimes under the rubric of “law and literature,” in recent decades has made significant progress in illuminating the symbolic,
narrative, and rhetorical dimensions of both modern and ancient legal systems (compare D. R. Davis 2007). This approach to Dharmastra is informed in particular by recent semiotic analyses of ancient Jewish law (Douglas 1999; Jackson 2002a, 2006; Sawyer and Douglas 1996). There are significant parallels between these two ancient legal systems, particularly in terms of their semiotic properties.
As in the case of Jewish law, some of the more distinctive features of Dharmastra may best be understood in terms of their
contribution to rhetorical performance: as aesthetic and communicative activity, rather than merely a set of substantive rules
or a “code” in the modern sense. “Performance” denotes the entire range of communicative and expressive functions served by
cultural forms, including “intersubjective communication, cultural transmission, social influence, and rhetorical persuasion”
(Yelle 2006: 379; compare Bell 1998; Tambiah 1985). An analysis of performance attends to the work done or effects achieved by ritual and other expressive forms of behavior in situated social contexts, and emphasizes the pragmatic dimensions of such
behaviors rather than merely their semantic contents. Such an approach holds significant promise for the interpretation of
the symbolic and ritual dimensions of legal systems such as Dharmastra and, as we shall see, represents an advance over
earlier views that either dismissed these rituals as superstitious nonsense or attempted to account for them in naturalistic
terms.
stra by describing their semiotic function. In doing so, it borrows from the growing field of legal semiotics which,
sometimes under the rubric of “law and literature,” in recent decades has made significant progress in illuminating the symbolic,
narrative, and rhetorical dimensions of both modern and ancient legal systems (compare D. R. Davis 2007). This approach to Dharmastra is informed in particular by recent semiotic analyses of ancient Jewish law (Douglas 1999; Jackson 2002a, 2006; Sawyer and Douglas 1996). There are significant parallels between these two ancient legal systems, particularly in terms of their semiotic properties.
As in the case of Jewish law, some of the more distinctive features of Dharmastra may best be understood in terms of their
contribution to rhetorical performance: as aesthetic and communicative activity, rather than merely a set of substantive rules
or a “code” in the modern sense. “Performance” denotes the entire range of communicative and expressive functions served by
cultural forms, including “intersubjective communication, cultural transmission, social influence, and rhetorical persuasion”
(Yelle 2006: 379; compare Bell 1998; Tambiah 1985). An analysis of performance attends to the work done or effects achieved by ritual and other expressive forms of behavior in situated social contexts, and emphasizes the pragmatic dimensions of such
behaviors rather than merely their semantic contents. Such an approach holds significant promise for the interpretation of
the symbolic and ritual dimensions of legal systems such as Dharmastra and, as we shall see, represents an advance over
earlier views that either dismissed these rituals as superstitious nonsense or attempted to account for them in naturalistic
terms.
The ritual and symbolic features of ancient law have often been criticized as a form of “primitive” or even “magical thinking”
which exaggerates the perennial lawyerly sin of formalism, meaning the rigid attachment to certain prescribed words or legal
procedures. In contrast, modern law emphasizes the value of substantive law and of legal realism over formalism. In the early
twentieth century, the legal historian Frederick Pollock recognized that in some cases formalism served the “rational” purpose of providing “a hard and fast rule” (F. Pollock 1912: 14–16). However, the excessive formalism of ancient law stemmed from “the oldest form of superstition . . . the pre-historic
belief in symbolic magic . . . [which] assumed that words have in themselves an operative virtue which is lost if any one
word is substituted for any other.” Pollock allowed the human instinct “to clothe . . . collective action in dramatic and rhythmical shapes . . . [which] are
both impressive at the time and easily remembered.” Yet he declined to follow any further the inquiry into “the aesthetic
history of ritual.”
Nowadays, such biases have begun to abate, and we find more attention being paid precisely to the symbolic and ritual dimensions of ancient law, as well as to the performative function of such devices in their original social contexts.
Poetry, ceremony, and vivid narrative images may serve to call attention to the “message” of the law, produce a sense of symmetry,
or make the law more memorable (Douglas 1999; Jackson 1991, 1998, 2002a, 2002b). As described below, these were especially important features in primarily oral cultures before the wide distribution of
literacy or printing.
Oaths, ordeals, asceticism, and the production of ritual certainty
Let us begin with the oaths and ordeals in Hindu Dharmastra, which are surely one of that tradition’s most interesting features, and which serve to distinguish it from modern
law as well as to reinforce its resemblance to other ancient legal systems where such forms of adjudication were widely used. These ordeals are described in the Divyatattva (hereafter DT) authored by the sixteenth-century Bengali Raghunandana Bha
crya (Lariviere 1981a). The most common reaction to these rituals has been to declare them a species of superstition that reflects a belief in
the supernatural and its power to suspend the natural order. However, a minority opinion has sought to uphold the rationality
of these rituals through naturalistic, scientific principles (e.g., Pendse 1985: 93). For example, according to Derrett (1978b), in the Hindu trial by fire (DT 214–20), an innocent person supposedly perspires less and escapes blisters; in the water ordeal (DT 248–50), an innocent person will have a lower rate of pulse and respiration, and may remain submerged longer; and in the
ordeal of chewing uncooked dry rice without bleeding (DT 285–9), the dry mouth of a guilty person will “make failure inevitable.”
stra, which are surely one of that tradition’s most interesting features, and which serve to distinguish it from modern
law as well as to reinforce its resemblance to other ancient legal systems where such forms of adjudication were widely used. These ordeals are described in the Divyatattva (hereafter DT) authored by the sixteenth-century Bengali Raghunandana Bhacrya (Lariviere 1981a). The most common reaction to these rituals has been to declare them a species of superstition that reflects a belief in
the supernatural and its power to suspend the natural order. However, a minority opinion has sought to uphold the rationality
of these rituals through naturalistic, scientific principles (e.g., Pendse 1985: 93). For example, according to Derrett (1978b), in the Hindu trial by fire (DT 214–20), an innocent person supposedly perspires less and escapes blisters; in the water ordeal (DT 248–50), an innocent person will have a lower rate of pulse and respiration, and may remain submerged longer; and in the
ordeal of chewing uncooked dry rice without bleeding (DT 285–9), the dry mouth of a guilty person will “make failure inevitable.”
Such attempts to rationalize ordeals appear strained. One can imagine them being extended with some plausibility to certain
cases, such as the ordeals of taking the oath (DT 332–50) or drinking holy water (DT 283–4), each of which was followed by a prescribed waiting period following which, if no calamity befell the accused, he
was pronounced innocent. In these cases, the guilty mind might eventually break down and suffer psychosomatic illness or,
perhaps, produce a confession. However, in the case of other ordeals – such as drinking poison (DT 265–8) or drawing lots (DT 330–1) – no physiological explanation appears adequate.
Moreover, the Dharmastra texts declare explicitly that the basis of the ordeals’ efficacy is supernatural, and that in the ritual context of the ordeal natural substances may work contrary to their ordinary physical properties. The ordeals depended on a belief in “immanent
justice” or a connection between the human and divine realms (Lariviere 1981b: 348). Attempts to reinterpret them in scientific terms are blatantly anachronistic. Ordeals were supposed to work automatically if performed according to the prescribed procedures (Lariviere 1981a: xii; compare Medhtithi, commentary on MDh 8.116, in G. Jha 1920–9, vol. VI: 145). The anticipated result might not occur, as a result of the accused’s good or bad karma, but this would not call into
question the justice and efficacy of the ordeal as a mode of adjudication.
stra texts declare explicitly that the basis of the ordeals’ efficacy is supernatural, and that in the ritual context of the ordeal natural substances may work contrary to their ordinary physical properties. The ordeals depended on a belief in “immanent
justice” or a connection between the human and divine realms (Lariviere 1981b: 348). Attempts to reinterpret them in scientific terms are blatantly anachronistic. Ordeals were supposed to work automatically if performed according to the prescribed procedures (Lariviere 1981a: xii; compare Medhtithi, commentary on MDh 8.116, in G. Jha 1920–9, vol. VI: 145). The anticipated result might not occur, as a result of the accused’s good or bad karma, but this would not call into
question the justice and efficacy of the ordeal as a mode of adjudication.
What did the formal features of the ordeals contribute to the belief in their efficacy? A performative or semiotic approach
may provide a partial answer. First of all, it should be noted that the ordeals employ various forms of repetition, involving
either ritual gestures – heating the iron ball (DT 214), drinking the holy water (DT 284), and spitting out the dry rice after chewing it (DT 287) are all supposed to be done three times – or the use of alliteration and other poetic devices in some of the accompanying invocations:
parapavitram am
ta
“O Butter, you are the best purifier, ambrosia in sacrificial acts” (DT 301).p“You [Fire] are called ‘purifier’ because you purify sin” (DT 216).dhakrtis tva
dhyate ||
“From the letter dha, you [the Balance] are the embodiment of justice [dharma]; from the letter
Poetic repetition was by no means limited to the invocations found in ordeals. Some of the accounts of karmic punishments in the afterlife or next life, as described below, employed similarly poetic and alliterative formulas. Indeed,
such devices are frequently found in the ritual languages of many cultures, where they serve to make such formulas more impressive and memorable, and to reinforce
the rhetorical associations among the ideas they express (Yelle 2002). As Douglas puts it, “to be convincing, what is true must chime with justice” (1999: 27). Poetry contributes to the appearance of the “naturalness” of these associations: For example, the fire is intrinsically
connected with purity, and the balance with fairness. Such rhetorical reinforcement of the conviction in the efficacy of ritual
would appear to be especially important in the case of ordeals, which are, generally speaking, a remedy of last resort, a
method of proof employed only when other sources of evidence are lacking. In this situation, it is particularly crucial to
avoid the appearance of partiality, and to displace the decision of guilt or innocence onto some supernatural or, at any rate,
non-human entity or process. If the semiotic function of the ordeal is to produce a clear verdict – a yes-or-no, either-or answer – the function of the ritual and poetic dimensions of
the ordeal is to provide rhetorical cover for the correctness or justice of that verdict. Such a semiotic interpretation of
the ordeal’s function is, of course, directly at odds with naturalistic explanations.
It would be just as vain to search for a naturalistic explanation for most of the dietary prescriptions and expiations of Dharmastra. The rationale of many of these is often manifestly symbolic. For example, the consumption of the pañcagavya (five excretions of the cow) as a form of penance refers to the belief in that animal’s special purity and holiness. Other penances, like some punishments described below, bear some symbolic relationship to the offense committed, for instance a twice-born man who drinks
liquor must drink boiling liquor (MDh 11.91); a man who sleeps with his elder’s wife must lie down on a red-hot iron bed or castrate himself (MDh 11.104–5). There is even a kind of poetry in the word “pryacitta” (“penance”) itself, in the following etymologies quoted in Pryacittaviveka (vol. II; Misra 1982):
stra. The rationale of many of these is often manifestly symbolic. For example, the consumption of the pañcagavya (five excretions of the cow) as a form of penance refers to the belief in that animal’s special purity and holiness. Other penances, like some punishments described below, bear some symbolic relationship to the offense committed, for instance a twice-born man who drinks
liquor must drink boiling liquor (MDh 11.91); a man who sleeps with his elder’s wife must lie down on a red-hot iron bed or castrate himself (MDh 11.104–5). There is even a kind of poetry in the word “pryacitta” (“penance”) itself, in the following etymologies quoted in Pryacittaviveka (vol. II; Misra 1982):
prprokta
taponi“Going forth [prprayatatv“Or through effort [prayatatv
Although many of the ascetic practices prescribed in Dharmastra appear to consist of arbitrary prescriptions, which have meaning only in terms of a cultural system (compare
Valantasis 1995: 548), the prevailing view from within this system is that such prescriptions constitute a form of “natural law,” in a strong sense. Various forms of symbolism are deployed to support this view.
stra appear to consist of arbitrary prescriptions, which have meaning only in terms of a cultural system (compare
Valantasis 1995: 548), the prevailing view from within this system is that such prescriptions constitute a form of “natural law,” in a strong sense. Various forms of symbolism are deployed to support this view.
Karma, chiasmus, and communication
One of the clearest illustrations of this principle is the various representations in Dharmastra of the law of karma and of symbolic punishments that follow this cosmic law. Karma follows a broader cross-cultural pattern of representing justice – especially divine justice – symbolically. Often described under their Roman name as the lex talionis or law of talion (Yelle 2001), such punishments use resemblance or an indexical connection to reinforce the symmetry between crime and punishment: for example, burning an arsonist or cutting off the hand of a thief. Rhyme, alliteration, and other poetic devices
are also used to reinforce the connection between crime and punishment, making the latter serve as a rhyming ending or, as
Douglas put it, making it “chime with justice.” Depictions of karma, as of symbolic punishments elsewhere, employ not only substantive analogies but even various forms of linguistic parallelism and chiasmus,
meaning the inversion of letter, word, or sentence order, a literary device similar to, but less exacting than, the palindrome.
stra of the law of karma and of symbolic punishments that follow this cosmic law. Karma follows a broader cross-cultural pattern of representing justice – especially divine justice – symbolically. Often described under their Roman name as the lex talionis or law of talion (Yelle 2001), such punishments use resemblance or an indexical connection to reinforce the symmetry between crime and punishment: for example, burning an arsonist or cutting off the hand of a thief. Rhyme, alliteration, and other poetic devices
are also used to reinforce the connection between crime and punishment, making the latter serve as a rhyming ending or, as
Douglas put it, making it “chime with justice.” Depictions of karma, as of symbolic punishments elsewhere, employ not only substantive analogies but even various forms of linguistic parallelism and chiasmus,
meaning the inversion of letter, word, or sentence order, a literary device similar to, but less exacting than, the palindrome.
The list of karmic punishments at MDh 12.61–7 (compare 11.48–53) includes a number that are clearly analogical in nature (L. Rocher 1980: 68–9). Several of these analogies are substantive – a thief of grain will be reborn as a rat (12.62), and so on – while
others are purely formal and poetic. Thus, MDh 12.63 (following Olivelle 2005a) reads in part “taila tailapaka khaga” – “by stealing oil [taila], [one becomes] a cockroach [tailapaka]” – and 12.64 reads “godh g vggudo gu
am” – “by stealing a cow [g], [one becomes] a monitor lizard [godh]; by stealing molasses [guam], a flying fox [vgguda].” When both phrases are read together, the degree of alliteration appears even more pronounced. It is unclear in these cases
what, if any, substantive analogy might obtain between the sin and the karmic punishment imposed, yet the poetic analogy emerges clearly from the Sanskrit. A further example is the retribution for eating meat described at MDh 5.55:
tailapaka khaga” – “by stealing oil [taila], [one becomes] a cockroach [tailapaka]” – and 12.64 reads “godh g vggudo guam” – “by stealing a cow [g], [one becomes] a monitor lizard [godh]; by stealing molasses [guam], a flying fox [vgguda].” When both phrases are read together, the degree of alliteration appears even more pronounced. It is unclear in these cases
what, if any, substantive analogy might obtain between the sin and the karmic punishment imposed, yet the poetic analogy emerges clearly from the Sanskrit. A further example is the retribution for eating meat described at MDh 5.55:
mayit
etan ma
“Me he [m[mThis, the wise declare, is what gave the name to and discloses the true nature of “meat” (m
The karmic punishment expressed in this verse is in the form of a folk etymology, where the word for a thing is supposed to disclose
the true nature of that thing. Like other examples of this genre, such as the definitions of “fire” and “the balance” in the
invocations of the DT quoted above, it relies on alliteration. There is also a parallelism between the first and second halves of the first line:
“m sa . . . yasya msam.” Substantively, this has the logical form of an inverted “if . . . then” proposition, in which the consequence is spelled
out first, followed by its condition of occurrence. This indexical relationship is reinforced and rendered more symmetrical
by the addition of a pair of indexical phrases marking spatiotemporal location (“in the next world” vs. “in this world”).
sa . . . yasya msam.” Substantively, this has the logical form of an inverted “if . . . then” proposition, in which the consequence is spelled
out first, followed by its condition of occurrence. This indexical relationship is reinforced and rendered more symmetrical
by the addition of a pair of indexical phrases marking spatiotemporal location (“in the next world” vs. “in this world”).
Examples can be found in other cultures where poetic inversion or chiasmus is used to depict retribution, as in the Hebrew
Bible’s formulations of the law of talion. As many scholars have noted, Leviticus 24.13–23 encloses the basic talionic formula
(“eye for eye, tooth for tooth”) within an elaborate chiasmus (Boys 1825; Jackson 1996; 1998: 133–4; 2002a: 291 ff.; 2002b: 25–8; 2006: 202–8). As Welch notes, “the talionic formula stands squarely at the physical and conceptual center” of the chiasmus, which
“lends itself formally to the substantive content of talionic justice” (1999: 162, 165). Such literary forms appear to serve both a rhetorical and a mnemonic function, by simultaneously reinforcing
the idea of retribution and making it more memorable. Both persuasion and memorability, however, are only specialized aspects
of a more general function that might best be termed “communication.” In Leviticus 24, God lays down the law, in the form of a verbal command, and at the end of the passage, what God has commanded is performed. This is an instance of successful
communication between the divine and human realms. The same appears to be true of MDh 5.55, which also uses parallelism to depict a reciprocity between this world and the next.
Far from being confined to literary texts, chiasmus is often employed in situations in which the act of communication or dialogue
is itself highlighted. The inversion of word order is quite common, not only in English but in many other languages as well,
to denote the form of a question. This inversion calls forth an answer that reverses the word order of the question:
Will you wash the dishes?I will wash the dishes.What sort of dog does Lucinda have?Lucinda has a toy dog.
The dialogical rhythm of question-and-answer is reinforced by the inversion of word order. Similar inversions characterize
and help to define the “pair-part” structure of some other communicative acts, such as call-and-response, as in the following
English and Arabic greetings:
How are you?I am fine.as-sal-kum (Peace be upon you.)
wa ‘al
The reciprocal relationship between the person giving and the one receiving the latter greeting is mirrored in the palindromic
form of the greeting itself (Caton 1986: 297).
The use of similar-sounding words to describe the crime (or sin) and punishment (or retribution) is another way of reinforcing the apparent fitness or causal (indexical) relationship between
these two. The legal philosopher Jeremy Bentham argued that such “characteristical” or analogical punishments as the law of talion strengthen the connection between the ideas of crime and punishment, and make punishment
more “popular” by appealing to our intuitions of justice (Yelle 2001: 637, 641). Chiastic representations of the law of talion may similarly reinforce the popularity of such punishments. Like related symbolic forms, chiasmus employs imitation to establish a reciprocity or symmetry between two qualities.
Such forms of imitation are basic to human communication, cognition, and recognition.
These comparative cases suggest that the examples of karmic punishments based on analogy reflected a belief in immanent justice common to many traditional cultures, and employed devices similar to those used in those cultures to reinforce the apparent association
between deeds and their consequences. In addition to substantive analogies between crime and punishment, Dharmastra texts such as Manu used poetic analogies to reinforce the perception of symmetry between the human and divine realms; to heighten the “message”
or warning of the law of karma and make it more memorable; and to provide a guide to the king or other executor of temporal justice. As such, they contributed a religious sanction to the force of law.
stra texts such as Manu used poetic analogies to reinforce the perception of symmetry between the human and divine realms; to heighten the “message”
or warning of the law of karma and make it more memorable; and to provide a guide to the king or other executor of temporal justice. As such, they contributed a religious sanction to the force of law.
Oral performance and literary style
The talionic formula appearing in the Hebrew Bible may have developed originally in a culture in which law was transmitted
orally and administered in a decentralized fashion by individuals or local bodies (Jackson 2002a, 2002b). The conditions of legal performance determined the appropriateness of such formulas, which served a narrative function:
They suggested but did not mandate a perfect symmetry between crime and punishment; they established a flexible standard in the absence of a more fully elaborated code; and they provided an analogical
model that could be adapted as necessary. The law of talion deployed evocative and exemplary images such as “an eye for an
eye,” which were intended to be taken as illustrations rather than as rigid and abstract rules. The subsequent view that the
talionic formula was to be interpreted literally reflected the mistaken imposition of a semantic model of meaning, which reflected
the biases of literate and abstract cultures such as our own (Jackson 2002a: 283–6). Some apparent contradictions in biblical law were a by-product of the imposition of a literalist reading on the
record of fluid oral custom.
Like ancient Jewish law, Dharmastra originated as an oral tradition, the provisions of which circulated, and changed, as maxims or proverbs before
being compiled and written down in texts such as Manu’s (L. Rocher 1994; compare Lariviere 1996: 181; Maine 1883: 9–10). Legal rules varied according to locality, and were applied variably and informally, being quoted as occasion required.
Nor were such customary traditions entirely displaced by the Dharmastra texts, despite the well-known European colonial bias toward the interpretation of these texts as equivalent to a legal code. This may explain some of the contradictions
that occasionally appear when we attempt to derive a single legal rule from a text such as Manu (L. Rocher 1994: 27–8).
stra originated as an oral tradition, the provisions of which circulated, and changed, as maxims or proverbs before
being compiled and written down in texts such as Manu’s (L. Rocher 1994; compare Lariviere 1996: 181; Maine 1883: 9–10). Legal rules varied according to locality, and were applied variably and informally, being quoted as occasion required.
Nor were such customary traditions entirely displaced by the Dharmastra texts, despite the well-known European colonial bias toward the interpretation of these texts as equivalent to a legal code. This may explain some of the contradictions
that occasionally appear when we attempt to derive a single legal rule from a text such as Manu (L. Rocher 1994: 27–8).
As with the talionic formula (compare Jackson 2002b), the transition from orality to literacy appears to have contributed to the decline of various poetic devices in ancient
law. Parallelism, alliteration, and chiasmus promote the memorability of legal rules, a necessary function in an oral culture.
With the development of a written legal tradition, the need for such formulas abated accordingly.
The use of poetic devices such as parallelism and chiasmus is, however, not confined to oral traditions. Even if many of the
provisions of ancient Jewish and Hindu law began their life as oral maxims, they evolved within increasingly specialized and
literate legal traditions. It is unlikely that the chiasmus in Leviticus 24.13–23 was an oral formula, as the text is too
long, and the chiasmus too elaborate, being revealed only by backward scanning of the written text (Jackson 2006: 203 n. 170; pace Welch 1981: 12). In such cases, we assume that poetic devices served primarily a rhetorical rather than a mnemonic function: They made
punishment appear more just or “fitting,” as well as more impressive.
Despite such qualifications, there does appear to have been a close association between the poetic form of many ancient laws
and their function in an oral culture. Some of the more obviously poetic formulas in Dharmastra, such as the invocations in the ordeals of the DT, occurred in instances of direct speech, and even of ritual “speech acts.”1 Although prescribed in written texts, these formulas were meant to be spoken. As such, their poetry would have served to
make them more impressive to an audience that must have consisted of literate and illiterate alike.
stra, such as the invocations in the ordeals of the DT, occurred in instances of direct speech, and even of ritual “speech acts.”1 Although prescribed in written texts, these formulas were meant to be spoken. As such, their poetry would have served to
make them more impressive to an audience that must have consisted of literate and illiterate alike.
Conclusion
Although the need for law to communicate its rules and make them more persuasive and impressive has not changed since ancient
times, the semiotic techniques employed by law to fulfill these functions have changed to accord with the very different social,
cultural, and material conditions of modernity. As just noted, one of the primary reasons for the demise of legal poetry,
such as we find in Dharmastra, was the rise of print culture, which rendered the mnemonic function of such devices largely obsolete. Yet it
would be too simplistic to attribute the more prosaic character of modern legal language solely to the invention of movable
type. The poetry of ancient law, as we have seen in the case of ordeals and karmic punishments in Dharmastra, also reinforced the idea that law reflected the natural order of the cosmos. Various currents of thought that we refer to for convenience as the “Reformation” and the “Enlightenment” combined
in European culture to discredit such views. Like language, laws and punishments are now regarded as arbitrary social conventions, and the social and natural domains have been “disenchanted,”
so that the belief in immanent justice has declined. These developments – a discussion of which is beyond the scope of the present chapter – mark a shift
in legal consciousness that separates modernity from the world of the Dharmastra texts.
stra, was the rise of print culture, which rendered the mnemonic function of such devices largely obsolete. Yet it
would be too simplistic to attribute the more prosaic character of modern legal language solely to the invention of movable
type. The poetry of ancient law, as we have seen in the case of ordeals and karmic punishments in Dharmastra, also reinforced the idea that law reflected the natural order of the cosmos. Various currents of thought that we refer to for convenience as the “Reformation” and the “Enlightenment” combined
in European culture to discredit such views. Like language, laws and punishments are now regarded as arbitrary social conventions, and the social and natural domains have been “disenchanted,”
so that the belief in immanent justice has declined. These developments – a discussion of which is beyond the scope of the present chapter – mark a shift
in legal consciousness that separates modernity from the world of the Dharmastra texts.