The Vedānta, contrary to an opinion widely held among oriental ists, is neither a philosophy nor a religion, nor does it partake to a greater or lesser extent of the character of either. To deliberately consider this doctrine under these aspects is one of the gravest of errors, calculated to result in failure to understand anything about it from the outset; in fact one reveals oneself thereby as a complete stranger to the true character of Eastern thought, the modes of which are quite different from those of the West and cannot be included within the same categories. We have already explained in a previous work1 that religion, if one is not to extend the scope of this word beyond its just limits, is something wholly Western; the same term cannot be applied to Eastern doctrines without stretching its meaning to such a degree that it becomes quite impossible to give it any definition, even of the vaguest kind. As for philosophy, it also represents an exclusively Western point of view, one, moreover, much more external than the religious point of view and therefore still further removed from that of the subject we are about to study. As we said above, it is an essentially “profane”2 kind of knowledge even when it is not purely illusory, and we cannot help thinking, particularly when we consider what philosophy has become in modern times, that its absence from a civilization is hardly a matter for regret. In a recent book a certain orientalist has asserted that “philosophy is philosophy everywhere”, a statement which opens the door to undesirable assimilations of every kind, including those against which he himself quite justly protested on other occasions. That philosophy is to be found everywhere is just what we are at present contesting; and we decline to accept as “universal thought” (to adopt a phrase of the same author) what is in reality but an extremely special mode of thought. Another historian of the East ern doctrines, while in principle admitting the inadequacy and inexactitude of those Western terms which have been persistently imposed upon them, nevertheless declared that he could see no way of dispensing with such terms, and he made as free a use of them as any of his predecessors. This appears all the more surprising inas much as for our part we have never experienced the slightest need to resort to this philosophical terminology, which would still suffer from the disadvantage of being somewhat repellent and needlessly complicated, even if it were not wrongly applied, as is always the case under such circumstances. But we do not wish to embark at present upon the kind of discussions to which these questions might give rise; we were merely concerned with showing, by these examples, how difficult it is for some people to step outside the “classical” framework within which their Western education has confined their thought from the outset.
To return to the Vedānta, it must be regarded in reality as a purely metaphysical doctrine, opening up truly unlimited possibili ties of conception, and, as such, it can in no wise be contained within the more or less narrow framework of any system whatsoever. In this respect and without looking any further, one can observe a profound and irreducible difference, a difference of prin ciple, distinguishing it from anything that Europeans include under the name of philosophy. Indeed, the avowed aim of all philosophical conceptions, especially among the moderns, who carry to extremes the individualist tendency and the resultant quest for originality at any price, is precisely to establish systems that are complete and def inite, or in other words essentially relative and limited on all sides. Fundamentally, a system is nothing but a closed conception, the more or less narrow limits of which are naturally determined by the “mental horizon” of its author. But all systematization is absolutely impossible in pure metaphysics, where everything belonging to the individual order is truly non-existent, metaphysics being entirely detached from all relativities and contingencies, philosophical or otherwise. This is necessarily so, because metaphysics is essentially knowledge of the Universal, and such knowledge does not permit of being enclosed within any formula, however comprehensive.
The diverse metaphysical and cosmological conceptions of India are not, strictly speaking, different doctrines, but only develop ments of a single doctrine according to different points of view and in various, but by no means incompatible, directions. Besides, the Sanskrit word darshana, which is attached to each of these concep tions, properly signifies “view” or “point of view”, for the verbal root drish, whence it is derived, has as its primary meaning that of “see ing”: it cannot in any way denote “system”, and if orientalists translate it thus, that is merely the result of Western habits of thought which lead them into false assimilations at every step. Seeing nothing but philosophy everywhere, it is only natural that they should also see systems wherever they go.
The single doctrine to which we have just alluded is represented essentially by the Veda, that is to say, the sacred and traditional Science in its integrality, for this precisely is the proper meaning of that term.3 It furnishes the principle and the common basis of all the more or less secondary and derivative branches which go to make up those diverse conceptions in which certain people have seen so many rival and opposed systems. In reality, these conceptions, inso far as they are in accord with their principle, obviously cannot con tradict one another; on the contrary, they are bound mutually to complete and elucidate each other. Moreover, there is no need to read into this statement the suggestion of a more or less artificial and belated “syncretism”, for the entire doctrine must be considered as being synthetically comprised within the Veda, and that from its origin. Tradition, in its integrality, forms a perfectly coherent whole, which however does not mean to say a systematic whole; and since all the points of view which it comprises can as well be considered simultaneously as in succession, there cannot be any real object in enquiring into the historical order in which they may actually have been developed and rendered explicit, even apart from the fact that the existence of oral transmission, probably lasting over a period of indefinite duration, would render any proposed solution quite mis leading. Though the exposition may be modified to a certain degree externally in order to adapt itself to the circumstances of this or that period, it is nonetheless true that the basis of tradition always remains exactly the same, and that these external modifications in no wise reach or affect the essence of the doctrine.
The concordance of a conception with the fundamental principle of the tradition is the necessary and sufficient condition of its ortho doxy, which term must however on no account be taken in this instance merely according to its religious mode; it is necessary to stress this point in order to avoid any error in interpretation, because in the West there is generally no question of orthodoxy except as viewed from the purely religious standpoint. In everything that concerns metaphysics or that proceeds more or less directly from it, the heterodoxy of a conception is fundamentally not differ ent from its falsity, resulting from its disagreement with the essential principles. Since these are contained in the Veda, it follows that it is agreement with the Veda that constitutes the criterion of orthodoxy. Heterodoxy is found, therefore, at that point where contradiction with the Veda arises; whether voluntary or involuntary, it indicates a more or less far-reaching deviation or alteration of the doctrine, which moreover generally occurs only within somewhat restricted schools and can only affect special points, sometimes of very sec ondary importance, the more so since the power inherent in the tra dition has the effect of limiting the scope and bearing of individual errors, of eliminating those which exceed certain bounds, and, in any case, of preventing them from becoming widespread and acquiring real authority. Even where a partially heterodox school has become to a certain extent representative of a darshana, such as the Atomist school in the case of the Vaisheshika, no slur is cast on the legitimacy of that darshana in itself; for it to remain within the bounds of orthodoxy it is only necessary to reduce it again to its truly essential content. On this point we cannot do better than quote by way of general indication this passage from the Sāṇkhya-Pravachana-Bhashya of Vijñāna-Bhikshu:
In the doctrine of Kaṇāda [the Vaisheshika] and in the Sāṇkhya [of Kapila], the portion which is contrary to the Veda must be rejected by those who adhere strictly to the orthodox tradition; in the doctrine of Jaimini and that of Vyāsa [the two Mīmānsā s], there is nothing which is not in accordance with the Scriptures [considered as the basis of that tradition].
The name Mīmānsā, derived from the verbal root man, “to think”, in its iterative form, denotes the reflective study of the “Sacred Science”: it is the intellectual fruit of meditation on the Veda. The first Mīmānsā (Pūrva-Mīmānsā) is attributed to Jaimini; but we must recall in this connection that the names which are thus attached to the formulation of the different darshana s cannot be related in any way to particular individuals: they are used symbolically to describe what are really “intellectual groupings”, composed of all those who have devoted themselves to one and the same study over the course of a period the duration of which is no less indeterminable than the date of its beginning. The first Mīmānsā is also called Karma-Mīmānsā or practical Mīmānsā because it is concerned with actions, and, more particularly, with the accomplishment of rites. The word karma indeed possesses a double meaning: in a general sense, it means action in all its forms; in a special and technical sense, it means ritual action, such as is prescribed by the Veda. This practical Mīmānsā has for its aim, as the commentator Somanātha says, “to determine in an exact and precise manner the sense of the Scrip tures”, but chiefly insofar as they include precepts, and not in respect of pure knowledge or jñāna, which is often placed in opposition to karma, an opposition corresponding precisely to the distinction between the two Mīmānsā s .
The second Mīmānsā (Uttara-Mīmānsā) is attributed to Vyāsa, that is to say to the “collective entity” which arranged and finally codified the traditional texts constituting the Veda itself. This attri bution is particularly significant, for it is easy to see that it is, not a historical or legendary person with whom we are dealing in this instance, but a genuine “intellectual function”, amounting, one may say, to a permanent function, since Vyāsa is described as one of the seven Chiranjīvī s, literally “beings endowed with longevity”, whose existence is not confined to any particular epoch.4 To describe the second Mīmānsā in relation to the first, one may regard it as belonging to the purely intellectual and contemplative order. We cannot say theoretical Mīmānsā by way of symmetry with practical Mīmānsā, because this description would give rise to ambiguity. Although the word “theory” is indeed etymologically synonymous with contemplation, it is nonetheless true that in current speech it has come to convey a far more restricted meaning; in a doctrine which is complete from the metaphysical point of view, theory, understood in this ordinary sense, is not selfsufficient, but is always accompanied or followed by a corresponding “realization”, of which it is, in short, but the indispensable basis, and in view of which it is ordained, as the means in view of the end.
The second Mīmānsā is further entitled Brahma-Mīmānsā as being essentially and directly concerned with “Divine Knowledge” (Brahma- Vidya). It is this which constitutes the Vedānta strictly speaking, that is to say, according to the etymological significance of that term, the “end of the Veda”, based principally upon the teaching contained in the Upanishads. This expression “end of the Veda” should be understood in the double sense of conclusion and of aim. On the one hand, the Upanishads do in fact form the last portion of the Vedic texts, and, on the other hand, that which is taught therein, insofar at least as it can be taught, is the final and supreme aim of traditional knowledge in its entirety, detached from all the more or less particular and contingent applications derivable from it. In other words, with the Vedānta, we find ourselves in the domain of pure metaphysics.
The Upanishads, forming an integral part of the Veda, are one of the very foundations of the orthodox tradition, a fact which has not prevented certain orientalists, such as Max Müller, from professing to detect in them the germs of a Buddhism interpreted after the modern fashion, that is to say of heterodoxy; such a statement obviously amounts to a contradiction in terms, and it would assuredly be difficult to carry misunderstanding further. One cannot insist too strongly on the fact that it is the Upanishads which here repre sent the primordial and fundamental tradition and consequently constitute the Vedānta in its essence; it follows from this that in a case of doubt as to the interpretation of the doctrine, it is always to the authority of the Upanishads that it is necessary to appeal in the last resort.
The principal teachings of the Vedānta, as extracted expressly from the Upanishads, have been coordinated and synthetically formulated in a collection of aphorisms known either as the Brahma-Sūtra s or the Shārīraka-Mīmānsā;5 the author of these aphorisms, who is called Bādarāyana and Krishna-Dwaipāyana, is identified with Vyāsa. It is important to note that the Brahma-Sūtras belong to the class of traditional writings called smriti, while the Upanishads, like all the other Vedic texts, form part of shruti; but the authority of smriti is derived from that of shruti, on which it is based. Shruti is not “revelation” in the religious and Western sense of the word, as most orientalists would have it, who, here again, confuse two very different points of view; it is the fruit of direct inspiration, so that it is in its own right that it holds its authority. Shruti, says Shankarāchārya,
is a means of direct perception [in the sphere of transcendent knowledge], since, in order to be an authority it is necessarily independent of all other authority; while smriti plays a part that is analogous to induction, in that it derives its authority from an authority other than itself.6
But to avoid any misunderstanding as to the force of the analogy thus indicated between transcendent and sensory knowledge, it is necessary to add that, like every true analogy, it must be applied inversely;7 thus, while induction rises above sensible perception and permits one to pass on to a higher level, it is on the contrary direct perception or inspiration alone which, in the transcendent order, attains the Principle itself, to what is highest, after which nothing remains but to draw the consequences and to determine the mani fold applications. It may further be said that the distinction between shruti and smriti is, fundamentally, equivalent to that between immediate intellectual intuition and reflective conscious ness; if the first is described by a word bearing the primitive meaning of “hearing”, this is precisely in order to indicate its intuitive character, and because according to the Hindu cosmological doc trine sound holds the primordial rank among sensible qualities. As for smriti, its primitive meaning is “memory”: in fact, memory, being but a reflex of perception, can be taken as denoting, by extension, everything which possesses the character of reflective or discursive, that is to say, of indirect knowledge. Moreover, if knowledge is sym bolized by light, as is most often the case, pure intelligence and rec ollection, otherwise the intuitive faculty and the discursive faculty, can be respectively represented by the sun and the moon. This symbolism, which we cannot enlarge upon here, is capable of numerous applications.8
The Brahma-Sūtra s, the text of which is extremely concise, have given rise to numerous commentaries, the most important of which are those by Shankarāchārya and Rāmānuja; they are, both of them, strictly orthodox, so that we must not exaggerate the importance of their apparent divergences, which are in reality more in the nature of differences of adaptation. It is true that each school is naturally enough inclined to think and to maintain that its own point of view is the most worthy of attention and ought, while not excluding other views, nevertheless to take precedence over them. But in order to settle the question in all impartiality one has but to examine these points of view in themselves and to ascertain how far the horizon extends which they embrace respectively; it is, moreover, self-evident that no school can claim to represent the doctrine in a total and exclusive manner. It is nevertheless quite certain that Shankarāchārya’s point of view goes deeper and further than that of Rāmānuja; one can, moreover, infer this from the fact that the first is of Shaivite tendency while the second is clearly Vaishnavite. A curious argument has been raised by Thibaut, who translated the two commentaries into English: he suggests that that of Rāmānuja is more faithful to the teaching of the Brahma-Sūtra s but at the same time recognizes that that of Shankarāchārya is more in con formity with the spirit of the Upani- shads. In order to be able to entertain such an opinion it is obviously necessary to maintain that there exist doctrinal differences between the Upanishads and the Brahma-Sūtra s; but even were this actually the case, it is the author ity of the Upanishads which must prevail, as we have explained above, and Shankarāchārya’s superiority would thereby be estab lished, although this was probably not the intention of Thibaut, for whom the question of the intrinsic truth of the ideas concerned hardly seems to arise. As a matter of fact, the Brahma- Sūtra s, being based directly and exclusively on the Upanishads, can in no way be divergent from them; only their brevity, rendering them a trifle obscure when they are isolated from any commentary, might pro vide some excuse for those who maintain that they find in them something besides an authoritative and competent interpretation of the traditional doctrine. Thus the argument is really pointless, and all that we need retain is the observation that Shankarāchārya has deduced and developed more completely the essential contents of the Upanishads: his authority can only be questioned by those who are ignorant of the true spirit of the orthodox Hindu tradition, and whose opinion is consequently valueless.
To complete these preliminary observations we must again make it clear, although we have already explained this elsewhere, that it is incorrect to apply the label “Esoteric Brāhmanism” to the teachings of the Upanishads, as some have done. The inadmissibility of this expression arises especially from the fact that the word “esoterism” is a comparative, and that its use necessarily implies the correlative existence of an “exoterism”; but such a division cannot be applied to the doctrine in question. Exoterism and esoterism, regarded not as two distinct and more or less opposed doctrines, which would be quite an erroneous view, but as the two aspects of one and the same doctrine, existed in certain schools of Greek antiquity; there is also a clear example of this relationship to be met with in the Islamic tradition, but the same does not apply in the case of the more purely Eastern doctrines. In their case one can only speak of a kind of “natural esoterism” such as inevitably pertains to every doctrine, especially in the metaphysical sphere, where it is important always to take into account the inexpressible, which is indeed what matters most of all, since words and symbols, all told, serve no purpose beyond acting as aids to conceiving it, by providing “supports” for a task which must necessarily remain a strictly personal one. From this point of view, the distinction between exoterism and esoterism would amount to no more than the distinction between the “letter” and the “spirit”; and one could also apply it to the plurality of mean ings of greater or lesser depth contained in the traditional texts or, if preferred, the sacred scriptures of all races. On the other hand, it goes without saying that the same teaching is not understood in an equal degree by all who receive it: among such persons there are therefore those who in a certain sense discern the esoterism, while others, whose intellectual horizon is narrower, are limited to the exoterism; but this is not how people who talk about “Esoteric Brāh manism” understand that expression. As a matter of fact, in Brāhmanism, the teaching is accessible in its entirety to all those who are intellectually “qualified” (adhikārī), that is, capable of deriving a real advantage from it; and if there are doctrines reserved for a chosen few, it is because it cannot be otherwise where instruction is allotted with discretion and in accordance with the real capacities of men. Although the traditional teaching is not esoteric in the strict sense of the word, it is indeed “initiatic”, and it differs profoundly in all its methods from that “profane” education which the credulity of mod ern Westerners so strangely overrates: this we have already pointed out when speaking of “sacred science” and of the impossibility or “popularizing” it.
This last observation prompts us to a further remark. In the East the traditional doctrines always employ oral teaching as their nor mal method of transmission, even in cases where they have been formulated in written texts; there are profound reasons for this, because it is not merely words that have to be conveyed, but above all it is a genuine participation in the tradition which has to be assured. In these circumstances, it is meaningless to say, with Max Müller and other orientalists, that the word “Upanishad” denotes knowledge acquired “by sitting at the feet of a teacher”; this title, if such were the meaning, would then apply without distinction to all parts of the Veda; moreover, it is an interpretation which has never been suggested or admitted by any competent Hindu. In reality, the name of the Upanishads denotes that they are ordained to destroy ignorance by providing the means of approach to supreme Knowl edge; and if it is solely a question of approaching, then that is because the supreme Knowledge is in its essence strictly incommu nicable, so that none can attain to it save by himself alone.
Another expression which seems to us even more unhappy than “Esoteric Brāhmanism” is “Brāhmanic Theosophy”, which has been used by Oltramare; and he indeed admits that he did not adopt it without hesitation, since it seems to “justify the claims of Western Theosophists” to have derived their sanction from India, claims which he perceives to be ill-founded. It is true that we must certainly avoid anything which might lend countenance to certain most undesirable confusions; but there are still graver and more decisive reasons against admitting the proposed designation. Although the self-styled Theosophists of whom Oltramare speaks are almost completely ignorant of the Hindu doctrines, and have derived noth ing from them but a terminology which they use entirely at random, they have no connection with genuine theosophy either, not even with that of the West; and this is why we insist on distinguishing carefully between “theosophy” and “Theosophism”.9 But leaving The osophism aside, it can still be said that no Hindu doctrine, or more generally still, no Eastern doctrine, has enough points in common with theosophy to justify describing it by that name; this follows directly from the fact that the word denotes exclusively conceptions of mystical inspiration, therefore religious and even specifically Christian ones. Theosophy is something peculiarly Western; why seek to apply this same word to doctrines for which it was never intended, and to which it is not much better suited than are the labels of the philosophical systems of the West? Once again, it is not with religion that we are dealing here, and consequently there can not be any question of theosophy any more than of theology; these two terms, moreover, began by being almost synonymous although, for purely historical reasons, they have come to assume widely dif fering acceptations.10
It will perhaps be objected that we have ourselves just made use of the phrase “Divine Knowledge”, which is equivalent, after all, to the original meaning of the words “theosophy” and “theology”. This is true, but, in the first place, we cannot regard the last-named terms exclusively from an etymological standpoint, for they are among those with reference to which it has by now become quite impossi ble to ignore the changes of meaning which long usage has brought about. Moreover, we readily admit that this term “Divine Knowl edge” is not itself entirely adequate; but owing to the unsuitability of European languages for the purpose of expressing purely metaphys ical ideas, there was no better expression available. Besides, we do not think that there are any serious objections to its use, since we have already been careful to warn the reader not to apply a religious shade of meaning to it, such as it must almost inevitably bear when related to Western conceptions. All the same, a certain ambiguity might still remain, for the Sanskrit term which can be least inaccu rately rendered by “God” is not Brahma, but Īshvara. However, the adjective “divine”, even in current speech, is used less strictly, more vaguely perhaps, and therefore lends itself better to such a transpo sition as we make here than the substantive whence it was derived. The point to note is that such terms as “theology” and “theosophy”, even when regarded etymologically and apart from all intervention of the religious point of view, can only be translated into Sanskrit as Īshvara-Vidyā; on the other hand, what we render approximately as “Divine Knowledge”, when dealing with the Vedānta is Brahma-Vidyā, for the purely metaphysical point of view essentially implies the consideration of Brahma or the Supreme Principle, of which Īshvara, or the “Divine Personality”, is merely a determination, as Principle of, and in relation to, universal Manifestation. The consideration of Īshvara therefore already implies a relative point of view; it is the highest of the relativities, the first of all determina tions, but it is nonetheless true that it is “qualified” (saguṇa) and “conceived distinctively” (savishesha), whereas Brahma is “unquali fied” (nirguṇa), “beyond all distinctions” (nirvishesha), absolutely unconditioned, universal manifestation in its entirety being strictly nil beside Its Infinity. Metaphysically, manifestation can only be considered from the point of view of its dependence upon the Supreme Principle and in the quality of a mere “support” for raising oneself to transcendent Knowledge; or again, taking things in inverse order, as an application of the principial Truth. In any case, nothing more should be looked for in everything pertaining thereto than a kind of “illustration” ordained to facilitate the understanding of the Unmanifested, the essential object of metaphysics, thus permitting, as we explained when interpreting the title of the Upan ishads, of an approach being made to Knowledge unqualified.11
1 Introduction to the Study of the Hindu Doctrines. ED
2 A single exception can be made for the very special sense in which the word is used in reference to the “Hermetic philosophy”; but it goes without saying that it is not this unusual sense that we at present have in mind, a sense which is moreover almost unknown to the moderns.
3 The root vid, from which Veda and vidya are derived, bears the twofold meaning of “seeing” (videre in Latin) and “knowing” (as in the Greek οίδα): sight is taken as a symbol of knowledge because it is its chief instrument within the sensible order; and this symbolism is carried even into the purely intellectual realm, where knowledge is likened to “inward vision”, as is implied by the use of such words as “intuition” for example.
4 Something similar is to be found in other traditions: thus in Taoism they speak of eight “immortals”; elsewhere we have Melchizedek, who is “without father, without mother, without descent, having neither beginning of days, nor end of life” (Heb. 7:3); and it would probably be easy to discover yet other parallelisms of a similar kind.
5 The term Shārīraka has been interpreted by Rāmānuja in his commentary (Shrī-Bhāshya) on the Brahma-Sūtra s I.1.13 as referring to the “Supreme Self” (Para mātmā) which is in a sense, “incorporated” (sharīra) in all things.
6 In Hindu logic, perception (pratyaksha) and induction or inference (anumāna) are the two “means of proof” (pramāna s) that can be legitimately employed in the realm of sensible knowledge.
7 In the Hermetic tradition, the principle of analogy is expressed by the follow ing sentence from the Emerald Table: “That which is below is like that which is above, and that which is above is like that which is below”; but in order to under stand this formula and apply it correctly it is necessary to refer it to the symbol of “Solomon’s Seal”, made up of two superposed triangles pointing opposite ways.
8 Traces of this symbolism are to be detected even in speech: for example, it is not without reason that the same root man or men has served, in various languages, to form numerous words denoting at one and the same time the moon, memory, the “mental faculty” or discursive thought, and man himself insofar as he is specifi cally a “rational being”.
9 Guénon is at pains here to distinguish between “theosophy”, or the “wisdom of God” strictly speaking, and “Theosophy”, understood as designating the movement of the same name founded by H. S. Olcott and Mme Blavatsky. The matter is somewhat complicated by the fact that Guénon also introduces the term “Theosophism” (with very little precedent in English) to designate not only Blavatsky’s Theosophy, but other similar movements. We will use the capitalized “Theosophy”, and, where necessary, “Theosophism” when reference is being made to these latter movements, and the uncapitalized “theosophy” when the word is used in its strictly etymological sense. ED
10 A similar remark could be made with regard to the terms “astrology” and “astronomy”, which were originally synonyms; among the Greeks either term denoted both the meanings which these terms have later come to convey separately.
11 For a fuller account of all these preliminary questions, which have had to be treated in rather summary fashion in the present chapter, we would refer the reader to our Introduction to the Study of the Hindu Doctrines, where these matters form the main subject of study and have been discussed in greater detail.