Is the Veda the body of God? (Yoshimizu 2007–II part)

How can one interpret a Vedic passage by saying that a certain meaning was not "intended" (vivakṣita), while still thinking that the Veda has no personal author?

The Mīmāṃsā cannot renounce the idea that the Veda has no personal author (apauruṣeyatva): its whole theory about the Veda's validity depends on this principle. However, Kumārila needs also to explain in which sense one can decide whether an interpretation of the Veda is right or not on the basis of whether it is intended (vivakṣita). How can one speak of intention if there is no author?

Next Sanskrit-Philosophical projects

Do you have just goals you can achieve by yourself? If not, here are my current projects, to which you are welcome to contribute. I will regularly update this post and add your names, if you desire to join and to be mentioned. Please consider that only the first six have been already undertaken:

• 1. Quotations and re-use of texts in Sanskrit śāstra. I have been working on this topic for several years and am about to chair a Coffee Break Conference about it (see here). The contributions will appear, if approved by the reviewers, in a special issue of the Journal of Indian Philosophy. I am now considering broadening the field to quotations and re-use of texts in Indian literature, including Veda, Belles Lettres and manuscript usages.
• 2. Coffee Break Conferences, i.e., conferences which are only meant for discussing and without read papers. We organize CBC once or twice a year, on several topics. You can read about the next projects on this website.
• 3. A panel on Testimony: I and the other two organisers welcome contributions on śabdapramāṇa in several fields, i.e., seen from the legal and philosophical point of view, in India and outside India. Further details can be read here.
• 4. Editions and translations: Jayanta's Nyāyamañjarī, book 5; Veṅkaṭanātha's Seśvaramīmāṃsā, Prabhākara's Bṛhatī, Rāmānujācārya's Tantrarahasya.
• 5. Finishing my study on vidhi, apūrva, niyama, in Grammar, Dharmaśāstra and Mīmāṃsā.

• 6. A reader on śabdapramāṇa in Indian and Western philosophy. NB: I have already written a book about it in Italian and it would be great if one could add translations of key texts in favour or against Linguistic Communication as an Instrument of Knowledge.
• 7. A textbook about how to translate śāstric Sanskrit (along the lines of Tubb and Boose's Scholastic Sanskrit), which should ideally include chapters on Reading śāstric Sanskrit (with textual examples and tutorials) and on the specific issues related to translation. For a blurb, see this post.
• 8. A collective volume on Mīmāṃsā as a sāmānyaśāstra (i.e., on Mīmāṃsā rules and ideas as found outside Mīmāṃsā).
• 9. A collective volume on Scholastic texts, i.e., on post-classical śāstric texts, e.g., on the struggle of doing philosophy after Kumārila, Dharmakīrti, Śaṅkara, etc., trying to balance innovation and strategies for preserving what is already there.

What are your projects? Do you have collective projects in mind?

Maṅgala for one's teacher

Auspicious (maṅgala) verses at the beginning or at the end of a Sanskrit text are precious for scholars, since they often entail the only historical information one can rely upon for dating the text. Often they contain information about the author and his family, or about his teachers. Given the general tendency in India to refer to teachers and respected authors with epithets and given the additional constraint of verses, one often finds elegant paraphrases for these names. The basic case is that of the usage of synonyms for parts of a name (e.g., paścāt instead of the prefix anu-):

karaṇakalebaramanasāṃ śaithilyaṃ sahajam asakṛd ālocya |
tantrarahasyaṃ kṛtavān rāmāvarajaḥ paropakārārtham ||

Having repeatedly seen the connatural feebleness of mind, body and sense organs
Rāmānuja (Rāmānujācārya) made the Tantrarahasya for the sake of others. (TR, beginning of the fourth book)

These paraphrases can be used also for books' titles:

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rāmānujāryaracite nigamāntabhāṣye jīveśvaraprakṛtibhedapare vinītaḥ |

śrīveṅkaṭādriguruṇā karuṇāvaśena rāmānujo vyadhita tantrarahasyaśikṣām ||

Rāmānuja (Rāmānujācārya), trained in the commentary on the end of the Vedas (vedāntabhāṣya) composed by the noble Rāmānuja (Śrī Rāmānuja) and aiming at [showing] the different nature of God and individual soul (jīva) |

Due to the mercy by [his] teacher Śrī Veṅkaṭādri, composed [this] teaching about the secret of the Sacred Texts |

Veṅkaṭādri could mean Veṅkaṭanātha (also known as Vedānta Deśika).

This leads to an open problem (pointed to me by Sudipta Munsi). At the very beginning of TR IV, Rāmānujācārya writes:

padavākyapramāṇeṣu parāṃ kāṣṭām upāgataḥ |
jātavedogurur yajvā jayati kṣitimaṇḍale ||
Hail all over earth to the teacher Jātavedas, the sacrificer, who reached the supreme level as regards means of knowledge, sentence and words!

At the beginning of TR I, Rāmānujācārya honours the main Mīmāṃsā teachers (from Jaimini to Bhāvanātha), all mentioned by name and with respectful epithets (Jaiminimuni, Śabarasvāmin, Prabhākaraguru…). But is Jātavedas (just) a name or (merely) an epithet? And in both cases, what does it refer to? I understood it as referring to the Vedic Agni, which is said to be jātavedas, in a way which accords with the following yajvan 'sacrificer' and underlines the Mīmāṃsā atmosphere.

What are your experiences with names of teachers and other authors in maṅgalas?

(All excerpts from my book on the TR, about which see this post.)

My book on Prābhākara Mīmāṃsā has been just released!

The book is called Duty, language and exegesis in Prābhākara Mīmāṃsā: Including an edition and translation of Rāmānujācārya's Tantrarahasya, Śāstraprameyapariccheda, it is included in the Jerusalem Studies on the History of Religion Series and it is published by Brill, Leiden.

The book is an introduction to key concepts of Indian Philosophy, seen from the perspective of one of its most influential schools, the Prābhākara Mīmāṃsā, which flourished from the 7th until the 20th c. AD. The book includes the edition and translation of Rāmānujācārya's Śāstraprameyapariccheda, which is part of his Tantrarahasya (written in South India, after the 14th c.). The edition is based on the extant editions, an additional manuscript and most of all on a huge amount of the texts which have been Rāmānujācārya's sources. The Tantrarahasya has never been translated before and it is one of the clearest elaboration of the Prābhākara thought. Within it, the Śāstraprameyapariccheda focuses on the core content of the Veda in general (is it an exhortation? a duty? the fact that each sacrifice will bring you happiness, etc.?) and in particular (which hermeneutical rules should one implement while interpreting a Vedic passage?).

The book particularly aims at presenting the linguistic, deontic-ethic, hermeneutic and epistemo-logical thought of the Prābhākara Mīmāṃsā. Detailed glossary and indexes make it possible to use the book as a reference-tool for Indian philosophy and linguistics. At least this is what I hope.

You can find further information on the website of Brill, on this page. If you want to have a preliminary look at the book, you can read parts of it on googlebook or from this page on Indologica.de

I would be very happy to read your comments on the book and also on its "paratext" (title, publishing house, series…), here or directly to me.

What is the scope of recognition as an instrument of knowledge?

Is recognition (pratyabhijñā) reliable? It is part of direct perception (pratyakṣa)? Is it a distinct instrument of knowledge?

Many Indian authors use recognition as evidence in their arguments. They may say that the same thing can be touched and then seen and that we know through recognition that it is the same thing (Nyāya). Or, they might say that the fact that we recognise things through time is evidence of the fact that there is an "I" (Nyāya). Or, they claim that this "I" can recognise its nature as identical with Īśvara (Śaivas such as Utpaladeva). Recognition might also play a role within analogy (upamāna), when we recognise the gayal as being the animal about which we heard that it was similar to a cow.
Yet, Indian authors do not generally state that recognition is a distinct instrument of knowledge. Hence, to be reliable it should be included in another instrument of knowledge. The best candidate seems to be pratyakṣa, but Rāmānujācārya, for one, says that pratyakṣa is "purely born out of the sense-faculties" (saṃskārajamātra) and that "purely" is meant to exclude recognition, which, like memory (smṛti), depends also on recollection traces (saṃskāras) (TR I).
Recognition is itself different of memory, since it does not depend only on saṃskāras (so Śālikanātha, PrP).
Hence, how can recognition be reliable? Perhaps, because a part (aṃśa) of it is perceptual and hence reliable. In the standard formula of recognition, sa eva idam ("this is the one [I cognised before]''), the perceptual part is the idam ('this'). This does not seem to entail more than the sheer perception of something. However, since perception includes, according to Mīmāṃsakas and against Buddhists, also its qualifications, the idam-part may include its resemblence with the previous saḥ. Even if notion of the saḥ depends on saṃskāras, then, the sheer fact of similarity could be perceptually established.

What happened between Śālikanātha and Rāmānujācārya?

As discussed in two previous posts (here and here) Śālikanātha Miśra (IX c.?) dedicates several pages to the ontology of the ātman. These pages appear neither innovative nor particularly original, yet Śālikanātha must have deemed the topic important enough to include it in his Prakaraṇapañcikā. By contrast, Rāmānujācārya (after the XIII c.) hardly if ever uses the term ātman and does not discuss at all any ontological argument about it. That the topic of the subject interests him is, however, proved by the many pages about its hermeneutical and epistemological phenomenology.

Why does Śālikanātha feel the need to add ontological arguments, probably borrowed from the Nyāya school? And why does not Rāmānujācārya feel the same need? What happened between the two?

The following answer is more than tentative and it is based mostly on the method of investigating into the history of ideas (Ideengeschichte). It is easy to see that one of Śālikanātha's principal opponents, namely the Buddhist Pramāṇavādin, is altogether absent in Rāmānujācārya's work. In fact, Rāmānujācārya was active in South India and at a time (after the XIII c.) when Buddhism was no longer a philosophical concurrent. Consequently, Śālikanātha might have felt the need to defend the ātman also from an ontological point of view, in order to resist to the Buddhist anātmavāda, whereas Rāmānujācārya was active at a time in which the existence of an ātman was common sense among philosophers. Consequently, he could rather focus on its epistemological and hermeneutic phenomenology.

Vincent Eltschinger has attempted (in his book Penser l'Autorité des Ecritures) a similar solution of the different approaches to the Buddha's word in Dignāga and Dharmakīrti. Do you deem it legitimate to use extra-philosophical arguments to interpret a philosopher's thought?

On Śālikanātha on the ātman, see here and here. I dedicated several posts to V. Eltschinger's book. See for instance, here (first post on the book), here (discussing why we need Sacred Texts) and here (discussing an expert's different fields of expertise).

Ontological or epistemological arguments for the subject?

Rāmānujācārya definitely favours a non-ontological approach to the problem of the subject. For him, the subject is what one becomes due to hearing and obeying to Vedic prescriptions.
What about his more systematic predecessor, Śālikanātha?

Since its very beginning, the chapter he dedicates to this topic (the Tattvāloka within his Prakaraṇapañcikā) seems to look for a balance between the two opposite tendencies. In its second verse, the first two padas are rather ontologically oriented, whereas the last two stress the role of the subject as the agent of cognitions we can experience in every day life:

The self, distinguished from intellect, sense faculties and from the body, is an all-pervasive substance |

different according to each field (of experience) [i.e., according to each empirical individual] , it shines forth in the act of understanding of the objects ||

(buddhīndriyaśarīrebhyo bhinna ātmā vibhur dhruvaḥ | nānābhūtaḥ pratikṣetram arthavittiṣu bhāsate || 2 ||)

Moreover, the subject is repeatedly identified as the knower (jñātṛ) and its necessity is demonstrated through epistemological arguments (such as the need for a reunification of different sense-cognitions and the possibility of memory).

How can the two approaches coexist?

On Rāmānujācārya's approach, see here. For further post on the topic of subjectivity, check the label "subject".

Where is the subject during errors?

The Prābhākara view distinguishes three elements within a cognition: the act of cognition, the object cognised and its cogniser. It also claims that they are inseparably known through every single cognitive act, insofar as no cognition of an object is possible without a cognising subject and without a cognitive act itself. Nor is one only aware of the sheer cognised object, without any frame. One knows a known object. This also means that, in the Prābhākara view, a cognition is a piece of knowledge only insofar as it is self-aware. It is not, as in Sāṅkhya and Nyāya, a mechanical act to which the conscious subject adds awareness. In order to be a knowledge, it must be intrinsically conscious.

What about acts of cognition which are not self-aware? A cognitive act which were not self-aware could not be a case of knowledge, because it would necessarily lack the important component of presentness. But are such cases conceptually possible? An interesting example is discussed by Rāmānujācārya in the epistemological chapter of TR (TR I). Rāmānujācārya mentions the case of the memory of silver which arises in one's mind while seeing a piece of mother-of-pearl on the beach. One sees mother-of-pearl and automatically remembers silver. This is said to be only an incomplete cognition and cannot be a piece of knowledge. Now, one could ask, who is the agent in the case of such cognitions? And how comes that s/he seems not to be included in such cognitive acts, since s/he is said to be necessarily included in acts of knowledge? Do they just arise due to saṃskāras and, hence, automatically or is a knower nonetheless present?

In fact, in the case of a conscious recollection of silver, one would simultaneously be aware of oneself and of the act of recollection. By contrast, the recollection of silver evoked by a lustrous piece of mother-of-pearl seems to be necessarily unconscious, since if it were conscious, one would be able to distinguish it as a separate piece of cognition and one would not conflate the remembered silver with the apprehended lustrous thing. Does not its “incompleteness” exactly refer to the fact that it lacks the element of a knower and of an act of cognition?

If this interpretation is correct, such cognitions would arise independently of a subject, which would else necessarily be included in the knowledge act. They arise due to saṃskāras and are, hence, not acts of knowledge performed by an agent, but only results of the saṃskāras' function. Hence, they can occur independently of an agent.

Do readers have a different understanding of the way saṃskāras function? And of the Nyāya or Sāṅkhya epistemologies?

On mother-of-pearl mistaken as silver, see also this post.

How can Sacred Texts be understood?

The theistic traditions posit that it is possible to understand the Sacred Texts by the will of God, who reveals them. In the atheistic Mīmāṃsā, on the other hand, the possibility of understanding is based on our linguistic expertise: We have to rely on worldly meanings of words when reading the Sacred Texts since we have no other key to their interpretation. Hence, the mastery of worldly meanings is a pre-condition for the understanding of a Sacred Text. But what if that text prescribes a kind of duty which is fully new (apūrva), unprecedented, that is, non-attainable through any other (worldly) kind of knowledge? Should it not remain beyond any possible grasp?

This issue raises thought-provoking questions for all theological discourse. How can the non-human be expressed in terms accessible to human beings?

Let me now sketch the problem and its solution within Tantrarahasya IV.

Rāmānujācārya lets a Prābhākara propose the option that even in worldly sentences prescribing something to be done, what one grasps is the pure ``ought", so that one can grasp the ought in itself even in mundane commands (TR IV 9.6). Rāmānujācārya dissents. According to him, it is only through its link to action, which can be experienced even in this world, that we can understand what an ought means, and, hence, understand it even in its apūrva-garb in the Sacred Texts. Thus, Rāmānujācārya confirms the Mīmāṃsā commitment to our common experience even in regard to the Veda.
This final position of Rāmānujācārya has linguistic roots. According to both the Bhāṭṭa and the Prābhākara school of Mīmāṃsā, the relation betweeen a word and the entity it means is fixed (nitya). Nonetheless, this does not mean that everyone, upon hearing for the first time a word, automatically understands its meaning.
Rather, one needs first to acquire proficiency in language through exposure to the usage of elders and through witnessing the connection of this verbal usage to physical actions (both these aspects may be referred to as vyavahāra). E.g., after having heard one's grandfather ordering:“Bring [the] cow!," one sees one's father bringing a cow. Through many similar instances, one eventually learns the meaning of the words “Bring!” and “cow”.

However, according to the Prābhākara Mīmāṃsā, the meaning conveyed by the Veda is a duty (kārya) that is unprecedented (apūrva). Hence, how could it be possible to learn the relation between a word and a meaning in the case of an unprecedented duty (apūrvakārya) through the usage of one's seniors? And if this is not possible, how could one understand the meaning of the Vedic words referring to it?
In fact, the relation between Vedic words and the unprecedented duty is fixed, but a meaning can be grasped only by people who have previously understood, by means of the linguistic usage of senior speakers, the relation between the signifiying word and its meaning. Hence, a relation lying beyond the possibility of being grasped in the usage of senior speakers would be fixed, but unattainable and useless for human beings. Nor can it be said that one can learn the meaning of Vedic words referring to an apūrvakārya through the Veda itself, as in this case there would be a vicious circle (the elders' usage would depend on the Veda, whose understanding depends on the elders' usage).

For some tables on this topic, see here.

Word meanings: their ontological status

Are word meanings referents (i.e., external "things", existing in the outer world, independently of the subjects using the corresponding words)? Do they exist as mental concepts? The first solution seems to lead to the paradoxical assumption of the real existence of unicorns etc,. unless one could rule out all impossibilia as the result of the addition of plausible elements. The second assumption leads –on a different level– to similar problems.

Moreover, as already discussed, Prābhākaras claimed that words in a sentence only convey a connected sentence meaning and not a heap of distinct word-meanings. This does not amount to say that the sentence-meaning is partless, but that its parts (the word-meanings) mutually influence each other, so that they would not have exactly the same meaning if they appeared in a different sentence. In a fundamental article on this theory ("The Context principle and some Indian controversies over meaning", Mind 1988), B.K. Matilal and P.K. Sen asked whether this amounts to admit "unsaturated" entities in the world. The following account by Rāmānujācārya might explain why this is not the case:

The understanding of the sentence-meaning from the words (pada) occurs indeed in the following way. Firstly the words, while they are heard, cause one to remember (smṛ-) their respective meanings, reciprocally unconnected (ananvita). Then, having remembered them, in the hearer arises a reflection (vimarśa) regarding their own meanings, and beginning in this way: “This is one sentence, this is a split (bhinna) one; this is the meaning the speaker wished to convey (vivakṣita), this is the undesired meaning; this is metaphorical, this is primary; this is worthy of connection; this is principal, this is not principal; this has been prescribed, this has not been prescribed…”. Thereafter, there is a division of fit (yogya) and unfit regarding the coordinated apprehension (anusandhāna) of the exact word-(śabda) meanings through a coordinated apprehension according to the rules (nyāya) appropriate (aupayika) for the ascertainment (nirṇaya) of the sentence-meaning

(that is, the coordinated apprehension of the word meanings occurs through the coordinated apprehension of the sentence meaning, which again depends on suitable rules). Next:

Then these words, brought (back) to memory, express a related [meaning].

(TR III, emphasis mine)

On the expression of a connected meaning, see here.

Expression of a connected meaning

Words alone do not have a meaning (as already noted even within Western Philosophy, see the preface of Gottlob Frege's Grundlagen der Arithmetik). But to assume that sentences have a meaning independent of the words composing them, leads to further unwanted assumptions (for instance: why do you understand this sentence, although you never encountered it before?).

A possible way out is the Prābhākara theory of the "expression of a connected meaning" (anvitābhidhāna), according to which words convey a meaning which is related to that of the other words in the sentence. In this way, for instance, in "Bring the cow with a stick!" the meaning of the word "Bring!" would be expressed only once connected with the word "cow" and the word "stick". It is in this way that we can account for the different meaning of "stick" in this sentence and in "Please check fluid level by using the DIP stick which is located in the back of VMI monitors".

However, an opponent may ask:

Does the expression of a connected [sentence-meaning] (anvitābhidhāna) occur [for each word] through [a meaning] expressed (abhihita) by another word (pada) or not expressed? (TR III, 5.2.2.1)

If in "Bring the cow with a stick" the word "cow" would depend on the meaning expressed by "bring" to express its meaning, the the opposite would hold too. Hence, no one of them would be able to start expressing its meaning!

On the other hand, if every single word would express its meaning as already connected to the others, then through "cow" alone, we should understand "cow/connected with the action of bringing/and connected with a stick". Hence, a single word would be enough!

How can one defeat this two rejoinders? Perhaps in the first case by upholding a simultaneous expression of the meaning through all words?

Language learning

How does one learn a language?
Western readers like me might remember Augustinus's recollection about how his parents pointed to various objects and told him "This is called X" and "This is called Y". But this process would take years and years and cannot account for the fact that we usually learn "sentences" before "words". With "sentences" I do not mean to say that a baby says "I would like my mother to come here!", but that his/her "MOM" means exactly that. More in general, the same acquainted I referred to already told me how the actual trend in applied linguistics is that a language can be learned through listening to its natural usage.

Indian authors generally neglected Augustinus' ostensive method and emphasised the importance of the normal usage of senior speakers (vṛddhavyavahāra). In Rāmānujācārya's Tantrarahasya, the process of language learning is described as follows:

To elaborate; exactly so in common usage (loka) does proficient linguistic learning (vyutpatti) occur for the first time. The elder senior employs (prayuj-) the sentence “Devadatta, bring the cow!”. Thereafter, the middle senior undertakes the [corresponding] activity (pravṛt-). Then, one who is not concerned with this activity (taṭastha) and who desires to learn the language (vyutpitsu), thinks: “His activity (pravṛtti) presupposes (pūrvikā) a cognition, because it is an acitivity, like my activities too. And this cognition was born from a sentence, since it came immediately after it”.

The clue of the syllogism is the invariable connection between language and action. Had the younger girl just thought that her older brother brought the cow because the sun was shining/the horses were neighing/the father had not come back yet*…, she would have needed
years to establish the suitable connection between words and meanings. But she understands from the very beginning that actions are the result of a cognition and that cognitions might be conveyed by language. Is it because she is, after all, not that young? Or is it a human characteristic which can be generally observed (or intuitively grasped)?
A further hint: the cognition the girl refers to is the cognition that something must be done (else, no activity would have followed it). And such cognitions can hardly be imagined to follow from perceptual acts.

*I am grateful to J. Benson for making me aware of the problem.

Can we connect meant entities acquired through different sources in a single notion?

We can doubtlessly get a composite notion of something through sensible data acquired at different times and places. For instance, my notion of the Colosseum consists of data acquired through many cases of linguistic communication and of sense perception, through inference and perhaps also through analogy.
But the Bhāṭṭas also claim that this is simultaneously possible. I would be able to get a composite notion at once, if I were to touch and see the same thing I am hearing you talking about, for instance. This view has a linguistic consequence, too, since it makes it possible for the entities meant by words to connect and convey a sentence-meaning. On the contrary, Prābhākaras claim that only connected words can yield a unified sentence-meaning. For them, there is no unitary notion out of data acquired through different means of knowledge. Once something has been known, it can connect to something else only through a second-order epistemological operation, such as a further inference.

I happened to read an odd passage on this theme in Rāmānujācārya's Tantrarahasya. The passage runs as follows:

«On the contrary, it is commonly seen that also [meant entities] conveyed (pratipad-) by different instruments of knowledge can cause to know a composite (saṃsarga) [notion]. For instance, the composite (saṃsarga) notion “a white horse is running” is commonly seen in the case of one who perceives (pratipad-) through direct perception (pratyakṣa) a whiteness, whose substratum (āśraya) is unknown; infers through the noise (rava) of neighing (heṣā) a horse, whose visible form is [for him] unknown; and infers through the sound (śabda) of hooves’ (khura, puṭa) clashing a going, whose author is unknown. It has been said [by Kumārila]:

For one who sees a white form (ārūpa) and hears the sound of neighing |
and the sound of hooves clashing, the notion (dhī) “a white horse is running” ||
is commonly seen, [even] without a sentence |
(ŚV vākya 358-359a)

Hence, Kumārila claims that by seeing an indistinct white form, hearing a sound of neighing and hearing the sound of clasping hooves one gets at once the composite notion "a white horse is running". On the other hand, the Prābhākaras maintain that such notion is the end-result of a sum of inferences.
The Prābhākara opponent in the Tantrarahasya maintains that one

1. 1. sees a white shape moving
2. 2. hears hooves clasping
3. 3. infers a substrate which is both running and a horse out of the sound of hooves
4. 4. connects the inferred white-thing with the inferred horse and ascertains through cogent evidence (anyathānupapatti) ``A white horse".
5. 5. connects the white horse with the running, which must have a substrate, and ascertains through anyathānupapatti ``A white horse is running".

The substrates of the sensible data, namely, of the colour white and of the sound of clasping are inferred because there is no colour without a substance, nor sound without a substance. The second substance is more precisely inferred due to one's experience of hooves' clasping.

The gist of the argument is clear: the notion that a white horse is running is the result of a second-order epistemological activity. However, the form of the argument seems unsound. At stage 3, one was already able to connect horse and running. Hence, why should one go back to the horse alone at stage 4, thus needing also stage 5? On the contrary, Kumārila's version had one infer the horse out of neighing and the going out of the sound of clasping. Rāmānujācārya has quoted Kumārila some lines above, hence why should he misrepresent the theory, in a way which, moreover, does not ultimately favour the Prābhākara view?

Can readers see better than I do?

Again on sound

A Mīmāṃsaka has a powerful device against the Vaiśeṣika claim that śabda (linguistic sound) is momentary. In fact, we do communicate and communication presupposes that we know what is said and this would not be the case unless we already knew the śabda our discussants utter. Hence, śabda must be fix.

What has, then, the burden of explaining changes in accent, lenght, tone, etc.? An easy way-out would be to distinguish between word (śabda) and sound (nāda) and to say that only the latter changes accordingly. But this duality may be too metaphysical for a down-to-earth pragmatist. Hence, Rāmānujācārya (I am not sure about how frequent this idea was among Mīmāṃsakas) suggests instead that it is only the manifestatory (phonetic) effort which varies, thus making the permanent śabda appear slightly different.

Sound in Vaiśeṣika

In his Tantrarahasya, (III.2), the Mīmāṃsaka Rāmānujācārya discusses with a Vaiśeṣika opponent about śabda. The Vaiśeṣika maintains that the phonetic effort produces śabda (which is, for him, tantamount to ``sound"), whereas the Mīmāṃsaka siddhāntin rebutts that effort only manifests śabda (=``language"). R. has the Vaiśeṣika claim that something can be manifested in three ways and that neither of them applies to the phonetic effort. The three ways are nicely distinguished from each other:

1. removal of an obstacle between the sense-faculty and its object
2. an improvement (saṃskāra) of the sense-faculty grasping the object
3. an improvement (saṃskāra) of the object

The first option is easily ruled out: since śabda is said by Vaiśeṣikas to be a quality of ether, it must inhere in it. Hence, there cannot ever be an obstacle between them.

The rebuttals of the second and of the third option seem less straightforward. An improvement of the sense-faculty, the Vaiśeṣika says, can occur either through the hearing-sense's being filled with the air pushed forwards by the speaker, or through its contact with it. Both cases, he continues, would suit also the thesis that śabda is produced, ``because śabda is a characteristic of ether and the hearing organ is made of ether". This short explanation does not seem to explain very much. Possibly, the Vaiśeṣika means that it is difficult to explain how could the all-pervading ether be `improved' by air in the ear, since ether has no parts. In the parallel Nyāyaśuddhi text, Śālikanātha drives a parallel with the case of sight, where the improvement of the sense-faculty consists in ``the eyes' ray's being filled with light" (ālokena […] āpyāyanaṃ cākṣuṣasya raśmeḥ). This is not possible in the case of ether and air coming from the speaker's abdomen, since ether has no parts which could be connected with it. Moreover, if it were possible, then the hearing organ would be improved once for all possible śabdas. Śālikanātha (a 9th c. Prābhākara philosopher) explains that the improvement of the sense-faculty could be twofold:

• either through removal of an hindrance, such as when one opens one's eye (and this cannot be the case, since the possibility of an obstacle to inherence has already been ruled out),
• or through the sense-faculty's being filled by something, as in the example discussed above.

Rāmānujācārya states, instead, that the hearing organ can either be improved through being filled with air, or through a contact with it. Both options are ruled out with the same synthetic statement quoted above.

Rāmānujācārya further adds, possibly for the sake of exhaustiveness, the option of the object's being improved. He has then the Vaiśeṣika rule it out as follows: ``[this would amount to] a quality of the content (viṣaya), and this cannot be. There is as a matter of fact no relationship of the internal air with a quality of ether. Even if it would be possible in some way, it would be shared also by the point of view of production (utpatti). Because it has been seen that also a relation can be, indirectly (paraṃparā), produced". This explanation points to the oddity of the relation between air and a quality of ether. However, if one juxtaposes it to the one read above, about the oddity of the relation of the partless ether with air, one is struck by the fact that no rationale explanation seems to be left to the Vaiśeṣika himself to explain how can an effort push forth air and by means of that produce a quality of ether. Does the Vaiśeṣika mean that the effort produces a quality of ether, namely śabda and, beside that, it pushes forth air?
Not exactly, since the Vaiśeṣika claims rather that the effort produces the movement of the air and that this movement produces a quality of ether, sound.

Contrary to duty obligations

One of the critical junctions of Veda's validity and moral action is the Śyena sacrifice. This is a malefic sacrifice prescribed in the Veda and aiming at damaging one’s enemy. Prabhākara, like Śabara and Kumārila, firmly denies that such a sacrifice is to be performed. But why, asks an objector, since it is prescribed in the Veda, like all other sacrifices? (A Western parallel may be evoked by some cruel penalties prescribed in the Bible for what we now consider to be minor offences.)

How can the Veda, which is an instrument of knowledge (pramāṇa) prescribe something which should not be performed? And how can we state that it should not be performed, if it is in fact prescribed in the Veda? Obviously not because of some over-ranking moral principle (such as "Morality"), since the Veda is the only Absolute acknowledged by Mīmāṃsakas and much of their philosophy would collapse if only they would not adhere to this economy of principles. Hence, Mīmāṃsakas state that the śyena should not be performed because of the Vedic rule "One should not perform any violence" (na hiṃsayāt). However, one might object that violent acts (namely, animal sacrifices such as the Agnīṣomīya one) are prescribed elsewhere in the Veda and are indeed performed. So formulated, the problem amounts to the presence of contradictory statements within the Veda. Nor could one or the other be eliminated, since the Veda is a valid instrument of knowledge in all its parts.

How can one logically explain cases of conflicting obligations, such as the Śyena one? One might suggest that the only condition that would allow one to perform the Śyena, namely the desire to harm one's enemy, entails itself something forbidden. This leads to an interesting ethical dilemma, i.e., is desire to perform violence in itself to be punished? The inclusion of desire within ethics implies a stoic approach to emotions, which seems to harmonize with Rāmānujācārya's one one (in Tantrarahasya IV).

Subject, agent, language and reality

In his Tantrarahasya, Rāmānujācārya discusses various interpretations of Kumārila's theory of linguistic signification as regards prescriptive sentences (e.g. "The one who desires heaven should sacrifice"). Why do these sentences impel one to act? –asks Kumārila. It is noteworthy that the Mīmāṃsā account does not presuppose a speaker as a necessary condition and focuses instead on the listener's point of view. In the passage below, Rāmānujācārya investigates about one of the possible ways of constructing Kumārila's theory, namely, that the prescriptive force (the force expressed by prescriptive sentences and inducing one to act, in Sanskrit śabdabhāvanā, see here) is a cognition. But if it so, asks an objector, how can a linguistic unit (śabda), which is usually the object of a cognition, be at the same time its instrument? Rāmānujācārya's answer is that one should not conflate the way one expresses things (language) and the way things are (reality). One can express the same action in different ways, but this does not affect the nature of the action. Hence, that the word appears as object and as instrument of the cognition in different sentences is no hindrance. Similarly, the axe can be an instrument (if one says "I fell the tree with an axe") or an object ("I lower the axe").

This point leads him to an interesting excursus on kārakas (linguistic functions, cf. Chomsky) from the Mīmāṃsā point of view. Rāmānujācārya either slightly modifies or re-interprets Pāṇini's definitions (see, especially, his understanding of svatantrakartā which in Pāṇini identifies the "subject" as independent of any semantic burden, whereas in Rāmānujācārya stresses its independence as for the initiation of the action).

Unfortunately, Mīmāṃsakas do not share Pāṇini's concern in distinguishing kārakas from vibhaktis (i.e., logical functions from the case-endings expressing them).

[UP:] «But if a cognition (jñāna) were the denotative (abhidhā) function (vyāpāra), then how could the word (śabda) –which is the syntactical object (karman) in regard to a cognition (e.g., “Devadatta knows a word”)– be [at the same time] the instrument (karaṇa) with respect to this [denotative] function (vyāpāra)? Indeed, the usage (prayoga) “Devadatta understands a meaning by means of a word (śabda)” is [commonly] seen [so, the word is commonly known to be the cognition's instrument, and how can it be both instrument and object?]».

[PP/Bhāṭṭa:] «It [must] be said [in reply]: The distinct settlement (vyavasthā) of the factors of action (kāraka) like object, instrument, agent [is not made] with respect to the general (mātra) form (rūpa) of the activity (vyāpāra), rather it is made with respect to the delimitation (avacchid-) of the activity (vyāpāra) by means of this or that result,

even though the own nature (svarūpa) of the activity is the same. To elaborate, when precisely (eva) that cognition which [has been previously expressed as] having the word (śabda) as syntactical object (karman), is delimited (avacchid-) by a result characterised as the apprehension (pratipatti) of the meaning, and includes (vyāp-) the word (śabda) (in sentences such as “she knows that meaning through that word”), then the word (śabda) is an instrument because it is included in the activity (vyāpāra) initiated (pravṛt-) for another purpose (i.e., it is an instrument because it is necessarily part –vyāp– of the action though not being the most desired element of it, the object). The meaning is, on the other hand, the syntactical object (karman) because it is the substratum of the action’s result. And then that cognition receives the title (vyapadeśa) of “designation” (abhidhā) because it (the title “designation”) has been comprehensively learnt (vyutpatti) in this regard (that is, in regard to what has as its syntactical object the apprehension of a meaning). When, on the other hand, one wishes to express (vivakṣā) the autonomy (svātantrya) [of the word] with regard to the function (vyāpāra) [of denoting], then the word (śabda) is the agent which designates (abhidhā) the meaning (and in fact the agent is defined in the Aṣṭādhyāyī as svatantra, “autonomous”). But when just this word (śabda) is made by the cognition into [its] content (viṣaya), then the word, partaking (bhaj-) of the result (because the word is the substratum of the result, through the connection of word and meaning), i.e., the displaying of the meaning, is the syntactical object (karman), like in “she knows [p.46] the word (śabda)”. Then, indeed, the cognition does not partake of (bhaj-) the title (vyapadeśa) “designation” (abhidhā). Rather, it must be simply called “cognition”, because the word (śabda) “designation” has not been learnt (vyutpatti) with regard to that (knowledge of the word, not of the meaning). Like an axe: like an axe is the syntactical object (karman) in regard to raising (udyamana) and sinking. When raising and sinking are delimited (avacchid-) by the result of splitting into two, and the axe is included (vyāp-) by them, then the axe is an instrument (karaṇa) because of being included in an activity (vyāpāra) initiated (pravṛt-) for another purpose (artha) (that is, chopping the tree). The wood-logs, instead, are the syntactical object (karman), since they are the substratum (āśraya) of the action’s (kriyā) result. And raising and sinking, then, receive the title of “cutting”, since [the word “cutting”] has been learnt (vyutpatti) in their regard. However, when in regard to this same function (vyāpāra) one wishes to express [the axe's] autonomy then [the axe] appears as the agent, as in “the axe cuts the wood-logs”. When on the other hand precisely those raising and sinking are designated (abhidhā) by “he raises” and “he sinks”, expressing (vācin) [an action] delimited by a result which is the conjunction (saṃyoga) [of the axe] with the upper or lower space-region, then the axe is the syntactical object (karman), partaking of (bhaj-) the result, i.e., [its] union with this or that (region), like in “he raises [and] sinks the axe”. Therefore, it must be considered (dṛś) that the activities (vyāpāra) expressed (vac-) by this or that verbal root (dhātu) (“to raise”, “to sink”, and “to cut”) –though sharing a single (prātisvika) own nature (svarūpa), (i.e., chopping a tree)– are the cause of a distinct settlement (vyavasthā) of these factors of action (kāraka) because of a different delimitation (avacchid-) by means of this or that action's result, and that they (activities) are expressed (vac-) by this or that word (śabda) [again, according to the different delimitation through this or that result, and not because of the activity expressed by the verbal roots themselves, which remains the same]. If, for a distinct settlement (vyavasthā) of the factors of action (kāraka), merely (mātra) the own nature (svarūpa) of the activity (vyāpāra) would be required (apekṣ-), the action (kriyā) designated as “he walks” could become transitive (sakarmika) like the one designated as “he goes (which can have a prāpya karman, and hence be transitive.)”,

or the action “he goes” may become intransitive (akarmaka), and there would not be any distinction (vyavasthā) in use (prayoga) (that is, “he walks” and “he goes” describe the same activity, so if it were just up to the activity itself, they would be precisely the same and there would not be any difference in their employment). [The above explained procedure] can be applied (yuj-) accordingly (yathāsambhavam) also when the denotative (abhidhā) function (vyāpāra) is characterised (lakṣana) as a mnestic trace (saṃskāra). Among the [action factors], agent (kartṛ), object (karman) and instrument (karaṇa) are factors of action (kāraka) reciprocally distinguished (pravibhakta). The agent is autonomous (svatantra) in regard to the action (kriyā), the syntactical object is endowed with the result of the action, the instrument is [necessarily] included in an action (kriyā) which has been initiated (pravṛt-) for another purpose (artha). The intrinsic characters (svabhāva) of dative, ablative and locative, on the contrary, are intermixed with [those of] the [two] factors of action (kāraka) agent, and [syntactical object]. For instance, the locative is the the substratum of either the agent or the object, like “Devadatta sits on the mat (kaṭa), he cooks rice in the saucepan”. The dative is what is held in view through the object, e.g. “he gives a cow to [his] teacher”. [Finally,] the ablative is the general limit (avadhi) [of the action] of the agent (kartṛ) factor (kāraka), e.g., “a leave falls from the tree”. [The distinct settlement of the action factors] must be considered in this way, according to what is suitable in each case (yathāsambhavam)».

"I" and the body

Rāmānujācārya seems to assume that the subject is a desiring agent. Is such a subject devoid of any further psychological organ, but the mind (manas), or does it stand in need of the complex ontology of psyche (as developed in Sāṇkhya)?

Strangely enough, the whole Tantrarahasya never mentions either buddhi (intellect) or ahaṅkāra ("I"). In Śālikanātha Miśra's Prakaraṇapañcikā, Tattvāloka (p.327 of Śāstri's critical edition), the "I" is lastly mentioned for the first time:

ahaṅkārāvalambanena punardehātmavādapratyavasthānam.
naitadevam.


"ghaṭam ahaṃ jānāmīti" jñātur ahaṅkārāspadībhūtatvāt "ahaṃ gacchāmy ahaṃ sthūlaḥ" ityādāv ahaṅkārasya śarīra eva pravṛttyavivādāc charīram eva pratyakṣaṃ jñātṛ pratīyate, pratyakṣavirodhe cānumānam ātmānaṃ na labhata iti.

The passage follows the rejection of the Cārvāka view that consciousness arises out of the body, just like intoxication out of plants. My first translation:

[Siddhāntin]: and through the support of the concept of an "I" (ahaṅkāra), again there is a rebuttal of the theory that the self is the body.

[Cārvāka opponent]: It is not so. In "I know the pot" the knower has the rank of the "I" (ahaṅkāra). Since it is so, there is consent of the usage of "I" in "I go", "I am fat" etc., only in regard to the body. Hence, the body alone is perceptible [and] it is seized as knower. And an inference which goes against direct perception does not hold.

Comments: I would rather expect ahaṅkārāspadībhūtatvāt and pravṛttyavivādāt to be on the same level: since the knower is equated to the "I" and since the "I" is found to be the same as the body, the body is the knower!

Philosophically speaking, the Cārvāka argument is a sort of syllogism:

1. every knower is an "I"

2. "I" is used for the body

3. HENCE, the knower is the body

What's wrong with that? Well, first that "I" risks to be used in two different senses (in the first case, as an agent, in the second, as referring to an outside perceptible entity, animated, but not necessarily identical with the first one). Hence, it sometimes presupposes the conclusion it wants to establish (the identity of the body with what "animates" it).

Secondly, the fact that a is b does not imply necessarily that b is a. For instance "All Athenians are Greek" does not imply "All Greek are Athenians". Similarly, it might be the case that the knower does not always coalesce with the "I". I would not subscribe with this view, I just think that –formally speaking– it is possible.

Can readers better acquainted with Cārvāka texts know more about the argument? Can one really argue that the body itself "knows"? How far is this position different from the one of Contemporary Neuroscientists arguing in favour of no further "subject" besides the brain?

Stoicism in Mīmāṃsā?

Indian authors distinguish between fixed (nitya), occasional (naimittika) and optional (kāmya) sacrifices. The role of desire in the latter ones is obvious: one would not perform a sacrifice for rain, unless s/he desired rain. So, the agent of the vṛṣṭikāmeṣṭi is "one who is desirous of rain". On the other hand, the first and the second kind of sacrifices are usually described as mandatory, regardless of what one might or might not desire. The agnihotra, a typical example of the first kind, is to be performed daily throughout one's life. The jātakarman, an example of the second kind, is compulsory required at the birth of a son. The agent of these two kinds of sacrifice seems to operate independently of desire, just for the sake of obeying the Veda.

But, in fact, the Mīmāṃsā understanding of the agent of sacrifices is the same in all cases. Fixed rituals are to be performed throughout one's life because their agent is identified as "one who is desirous of heaven". And heaven (svarga), explains Śabara means "happiness", and everyone longs for happiness. So, the reason why the agnihotra is a fixed ritual is that the condition for performing it will never cease. One will desire happiness until her very last day, and that is why s/he is bound to perform it until her/his very last day.

But what about the case where a specific sacrificer is supplied, but no hint of a desire is left (e.g., in occasional rituals, with formulas like "the one whose son was just born should perform the ritual …")? In order to make sense of these cases, Rāmānujācārya (and other authors?) has to abandon his usual Mīmāṃsā 'down-to-earth' attitude. In TR IV §10.11 he answers that the very non-performance of a prescribed duty is, for cultivated people, something one has to desire to avoid: "In fact, dharma is also one of the human purposes (puruṣārtha)". In saying so, Rāmānujācārya interprets artha as goal and connects it automatically with one's natural desire.

More in general, since heaven is explicitly (see Matilal 1986) stated to be a soul’s condition and not a physical place, a “stoical” way out telling us that the fulfilment of one’s duty causes a man to be happy, is always possible.

How can imperatives have a truth-value?

Linguistic analysis and epistemology are always closely linked in Mīmāṃsā. In fact, the main concern of Mīmāṃsā is the Veda and the Veda is a linguistic entity and, insofar as it is one, it is a valid instrument of knowledge. Hence, analysis of language is preliminary in order to understand how can the Veda convey knowledge. But, Bhāṭṭas and Prābhākaras agree that the Veda is made of prescriptions. How can prescriptions convey knowledge? Since it has already been observed that the discussion on instruments of knowledge plays in Indian philosophy a role comparable to the debate about truth in the Western one, the problem amounts to the Western question about whether injunctive sentences may have a truth-value (see Copi-Cohen). It is, in fact, difficult to figure out how to understand "truth" in regard to a non-descriptive statement. Some thinkers (the deontic logician Stig Kanger and some Christian theologians, for instance) maintain that the definition of truth as correspondence still holds. One only has to compare the content conveyed by the prescription with what should occur according to an ideal paradigm, be it God's Will or Kant's "kingdom of ends". In this way, the oddity of a prescriptive truth value is solved.

Something similar is attempted by Maṇḍana. His view of prescriptions as assertions conveying the idea that the action to be undertaken is a means to a desired end makes the attribution of truth-claims (in Indian terms: the attribution of prāmāṇya, i.e. the capacity to convey valid knowledge) to them, smooth. It is indeed easy to say that the Veda is an instrument of knowledge insofar as it conveys the idea that the Full- and New-Moon sacrifice leads one to heaven (obviously enough, verifying it is still far from easy, but this has nothing to do with the logical oddity of the Veda being at the same time prescriptive and an instrument of knowledge). Hence, the prescriptive "One ought to sacrifice" is said to be tantamount to "Sacrifice is an instrument to something good", which is much easier to analyse.

In logical terms:

Os

would be the same as

s is p

with O=ought, the deontic modal, s=sacrificing and p=being an instrument to something good.

But in this way the modal specificity of prescriptions is just cleared away. This is also the fundamental objection of Rāmānujācārya against Maṇḍana (see TR IV §3.2): that an action is the instrument to realise something desired is an assertion. But it does not entail that one ought to undertake the action, although Maṇḍana might object that everyone undertakes actions, if only they lead to something desired. Finally, one no longer obeys the Veda because the Veda ordered one to do it, but rather because the action enjoined are conducive to something desired. Hence, I guess, no other harm should derive if one does not undertake them, but the non-attainment of the desired thing. Since, however the desired thing is happiness itself, its non attainment is enough to make everyone strive for the opposite.

On the other hand, the (other) Bhāṭṭas and the Prābhākaras take seriously in account the specificity of exhortations as against statements about actual state of affairs. An exhortation, according to both schools, cannot be reduced to a descriptive statement. This is even more true in the case of the Prābhākaras, which claim that the Veda points at conveying something to be done. In this case, the validity-criterion for the Veda is that it has to convey valid knowledge in its specific field, that is, the sphere of what has to be done. Since this sphere is not attainable through any other instrument of knowledge (as all other instruments of knowledge refer to what is presently available to one's grasp), the Veda is the only possible instrument of knowledge about what has to be done. The Bhāṭṭas are somehow more moderate, insofar as they refer the Veda's validity rather to the sphere of future state of affairs –which are also beyond the grasp of our faculties.