Science and Philosophy in Ancient IndiaDebiprasad
ChattopadhyayaIn ancient India, the only discipline that aspired to
be fully secular and promisedthough inevitably in a rather
rudimentary formthe beginnings of natural science in the modern
sense, was medicine or Ayurveda. It moreover represented the
original nucleus from which could eventually branch off specialised
sciences like botany and zoology, anatomy and physiology,
meteorology and metallurgy, even physics and chemistry. Besides,
for all that we know of ancient Indian culture, it was in the
medical circle that a conscious attempt to settle the question of
the methodology of natural science was first developed. The
significance of this for the development of Indian logic is already
discussed by S. N. Dasgupta. [1]Let us first try to be clear about
the importance of Ayurveda in the history of Indian science.The
other disciplines more talked of in the orthodox circles are
phonetics (siksa), grammar (vyakarana), etymology (nirukta),
metrics (chandas), protoastronomy (jyotisa) and even protogeometry
(sulva)the last in the restricted sense of being a part of the
ritual technique or kalpa. Like the ritual technique, however, all
these originate in the priestly corporations as aids to their
scriptural lore. The traditional word for them is vedanga,
literally the limb of Veda or scripture. These disciplines thus
bear the birthmark of religion or antisecularism, and as alBeruni
[2] the great visiting scientist of the eleventh century showed,
specially in the case of Brahmagupta's astronomythey faced
formidable difficulties in developing towards natural science in
real sense. Brahmagupta (born c A. D. 598), in his famous
astronomical work, could move towards science proper only after
paying heavy ransom to religion.By contrast, already in a very
early period, medicinein spite of its inevitable humble
beginningtook the momentous step forward from magicoreligious
therapeutics to rational therapeutics, i.e. in the language of the
grand medical compilation called the Carakasamhita, from
daivavyapasraya bhesaja to yuktivyapasraya bhesaja. Our text
defines the former as the healing art based on charms,
incantations, prayers, propitiation, and the like, i.e. what was
mainly prescribed in the ancient Atharvaveda and what is also being
observed among the tribal peoples surviving in certain pockets of
the modern world. [3] But it is not the system of medicine which
the Carakasamhita itself defends. What it is interested instead is
in the system of rationalist medicine or yuktivyapasraya bhesaja,
defined as medicine based on the use of various natural substances
used as diets and drugs, and which, as it is repeatedly claimed,
has directly perceptible results" (pratyaksalaksanaphalah) [4] like
the correction of any imbalance of the bodymaterials viewed as the
actual cause of disease.This difference is crucial for the
Carakasamhita, for we find the text explaining it not only in the
section on the general principles of medicine (Sutrasthana) [5] but
also in the section designed to explain the methodology of science
(Vimanasthana, [6] literally section on specific proofs').Such an
understanding of medical science is remarkably secular, free from
supernaturalism, religion and scriptureorientation. Thus the first
decisive step to positive science in ancient India necessitated the
scrapping of the magicoreligious mystification of nature and man.
This could not but raise a wide range of theoretical problems,
inclusive of some that are frankly philosophical and having
interest even in our times. It is on these theoretical problems
that we shall mainly concentrate in the present discussion.Before
passing on to discuss these, we may try to be clear about one
question. When did Indian medicine take this step from
magicoreligious therapeutics to rationalist therapeutics?At the
present stage of historical research, it is impossible of course to
be exact about the answer. What is possible, nevertheless, is to
note a few points of general interest.I have elsewhere [7] tried to
show in some detail that any tendency to fix this date on the basis
of conjectures concerning the time of the composition of the
Carakasamhitaand, what may roughly be called its surgical
counterpart, the Susrutasamhitais bound to be fallacious. These
grand compilations are highly complex and, on their own admission,
presuppose a long history of assuming the forms in which they reach
us. No less doubtful is the procedure of trying first to determine
the date of a hypothetical ancient physician bearing the proper
name Caraka, notwithstanding the illusory assurance given by
Sylvain Levi [8] to the modern scholars that the Chinese sources
speak of such a person as the courtphysician of king Kaniska. The
Chinese sources" mentioned are only two. One of these is a
translation of some fables of uncertain Indian origin and the other
already proved to be a literary forgery. Both the sources are thus
worthless from the standpoint of strict historical requirements.
The presumption, on the contrary, is that in the context of ancient
Indian medicine, the word caraka was not the personal name of any
individual. It seems rather to have been the general epithet for
the roving physicians (caraka = roving), who wandered about
searching for the healing agents and effecting cures, reminiscent
of the caranavaidyas (literally "roving physicians"), from whom a
lost recension of the Atharvaveda [9] took its name. Even granting
credibility to Sylvain Levi's Chinese sources", there is nothing
improbable about a doctor belonging to such a sect as being
attached to Kaniska's court, or, as Filliozat [10] has very rightly
observed, "even if the doctor of Kaniska was effectively called
Caraka", there is no ground whatsoever for connecting him with our
Carakasamhita.Discarding the doubtful procedures of dating Indian
medicine, we may ask ourselves another question. Do we have any
collateral evidence on the basis of which it may be possible to
form some approximate idea of the time of the formation of the
essential doctrinal contents of the medical compilations, or, more
strictly, of the fundamentals of yuktivyapasraya bhesaja? The
answer seems to be in the affirmative. The Pali Vinayapitaka, [11]
which was presumably codified not long after the death of Buddha,
attributes to him a long discourse on the nature of the medical
treatment to be allowed to the monks within the samgha. The
discussion is highly systematic and amazingly rich in details. It
evidently presupposed a therapeutic system already wellestablished
in the country during the time of the codification of the
Vinayapitaka. Further, what is decisive about it from the point of
view of our present discussion is that it has nothing to do with
magicoreligious therapeutics. What it presupposes, on the contrary,
is the healing technique based on a purely naturalistic
understanding not only of the causes of the diseases but also of
their remedies. Its doctrinal content, in short, is essentially the
same as that of the rationalist medicine of our Carakasamhita.
Assuming the authenticity of the Pali Vinayapitaka, therefore, it
may not be an error to presume that the fundamentals of rationalist
medicine were established in India sometimes before Buddha, i.e.
roughly in the sixth century B.C., if not earlier. All this agrees
with the extensive legends about Jivaka, the physicianfriend of
Buddha. These legends, too, as incorporated in the Pali
Vinayapitaka, [12] want us to believe in a remarkably rationalist
approach of Jivaka to the theory and practice of medicine.With this
brief note on the chronological question, we may now pass on to see
some of the prominent features of rationalist medicine.As far as we
can judge from the Carakasamhita and Susrutasamhita, the main
theoretical question raised in rationalist medicine retains
significance even in our times. It is the question concerning the
interaction between environmental matter and body matter, i.e.
between matter in the state of various things of nature and matter
that assumes the form of the living bodies, specially human bodies.
The general assumption underlying this way of formulating the
question is that the human body, like everything else in nature, is
made of the same stuff, namely matter or bhuta as the early
scientists understood it.The question itself was suggested to the
ancient physicians by an enormous amount of empirical data, mainly
of the nature of the effect on animal bodies of the various
articles consumed as food and drink, and, interestingly enough,
also of the impact of the climatic changes on the main
bodyconstituents. The enormity of the data easily rejects the
possibility of these having been. compiled by any individual or
even by a limited number of specialists. The strong presumption, on
the contrary, is that these represent the pool or common fund of
empirical knowledge gathered by generations of observers over a
vast tract highly rich in flora, fauna and even some rare minerals,
like the exudate from ores with different metal contents called
silajatu.Here are only a few examples from which we may form a
rough idea of the kind of empirical knowledge that formed the basis
of the theoretical generalization of rationalist medicine. The
Carakasamhita, discusses the effects on animal bodies of about nine
hundred varieties of plants, and the varieties of plants spoken of
by the Susrutasamhita number over a thousand. But the texts do not
discuss the plants as such. These try to determine instead how the
different constituents of our bodies are being differently affected
by their root, bark, pith, exudation, stalk, juice, sprout, fruit,
flower, and so on. As said in the Carakasamhita, "Root, bark, pith,
exudation, stalk, juice, sprouts, alkalis, milk, fruit, flower,
ash, oils, throns, leaves, buds, bulbs and offshoots are the
plantproducts used in medicine". (i.1.73) The medical compilations
also discuss about 156 varieties of animalssomewhat differently
classified in the Carakasamhita and Susrutasamhitaand want us to
understand the different effects on our bodies of their flesh, fat,
blood, bone, nails, horns, hoofs, milk, urine, bile, etc. Thus, for
example, while in the Carakasamhita, cow's flesh is strongly
recommended for patients suffering from consumption (i.27.7980),
cow's milk is recommended for use internally or externally for
various troubles ranging from dislocation and fracture to cardiac
trouble. So also are discussed a considerable number of mineral
substances, inclusive of iron dust in some form for the. treatment
of anaemia. Excellent tabulations of all these are to be found in
the CarakaSamhita: A Scientific Synopsis by Ray and Gupta, a work
of very sustained labour, recently supplemented by their more
imposing SusrutaSamhita: A Scientific Synopsis. Even a cursory
glance at the Tables in these two books is enough for us to be
convinced that the empirical knowledge embodied in the medical
compilations is extremely imposing.To these Tables may be added
only one point. The ancient doctors very consciously put strong
emphasis on the importance of direct observation or direct
experience for sound scientific knowledge. We shall mention here
only two examples from the Susrutasamhita.Certain herbs described
as belonging to the Ambastha group are actually observed by them to
cure cases of dysentery with excessive mucus in stool (i.48.43).
Hence they have absolutely no patience for any amount of empty
theoretical speculation intended to prove the contrary. Arguing
against any fascination for pure reason going contrary to
experience, the text observes: "A knowledgeable physician must
never try to examine on grounds of pure logic the efficacy of a
medicine, which is known by direct observation, as having by nature
a specific medical action. Thus, for example, even a thousand
logical grounds will never make the Ambastha group of herbs to have
a purgative action". (i.40.1213)While explaining the importance of
the knowledge of anatomy for medical (specially surgical) purposes,
the same text insists on the need of actual dissection of corpse
for the medical student, because no authoritative treatise on the
subject can be a substitute for direct knowledge derived from
dissection: "The different parts or members of the body as
mentioned, beforeincluding even the skincannot be correctly
described by one who is not versed in anatomy. Hence any one having
a thorough knowledge of anatomy must prepare a dead body and
carefully observe (by dissecting it) its different parts and
examine these. For a thorough knowledge can be acquired only by the
corroboration of the accounts given in the authoritative works by
direct personal observation". (iii.5.5960)Thus, in short, the
medical compilations not only contain a great deal of empirical
knowledge; these want us also to be theoretically convinced of the
basic importance of direct observation for scientific purposes.
[13] We shall have to return to this point later.The tools of
observation of these early scientists are understandably
rudimentary. They consist of nothing more than unaided senseorgans,
sharpened may be to a certain extent by purposiveness and
discipline. There was then no possibility of having controlled
conditions ensuring the accuracy of observationno possibility of
experiment in the modern sense. What nevertheless was remarkable
about the early scientistsand what enabled them to take the
prodigious first step to natural sciencewas the new intellectual
apparatus they developed for processing their vast empirical data.
The Carakasamhita contains a long section called Vimanasthana,
literally the section on specific proofs'. Its main theme is the
methodology of natural science. From the viewpoint of the medical
compilation, a knowledge of this methodology is a must for the
qualified physician. The discussion retains significance even for
our times, specially because so much of nonsense is being produced
these days in the name of the methodology of natural science. There
is at least nothing comparable to it in the entire range of ancient
Indian literature.We do not unfortunately have the scope to go here
into the details of this discussion. That seems to form the subject
of a separate study altogether. We shall try instead to have some
idea of the main theoretical position gained in Ayurveda on the
basis of their lucid understanding of the technique of establishing
the causal connection and of moving forward to valid
generalisation.Scrapping supernaturalism and mythology, the ancient
doctors wanted to interpret their datai.e. what they actually
observed about our bodies being variously affected by various
natural substancesin terms of a grand theoretical generalisation
concerning the interaction between environmental matter and body
matter, because, as already said, shorn of all mysteries, the human
body, like everything else in nature, is made of the same stuff,
namely matter or bhuta.As in ancient Greece, so also in ancient
India, natural science begins with some kind of instinctive
materialism. [14] This point is in need of special emphasis and
some elaboration, because it is essential for understanding the
real theoretical plank of Ayurveda.As physicians, our ancient
scientists are naturally interested above all in man or purusa. So
also are our ancient metaphysicians speculating on the purusa. But
the interest of the two are clearly different. The metaphysicians
are interested in the mystery of the indwelling soul, supposed to
be the spiritual essence of man. As put in the Brhadaranyaka
Upanisad, This shining immortal purusa who is in this earth, and
with reference to oneself, this shining immortal purusa who is in
the bodyhe indeed is just this soul (atman), this immortal, this
brahman, this all. (ii.5.1)The physicians retain the term purusa,
but they scrap its spiritual connotation. Their interest in the
purusa is an allabsorbing interest in the physical constitution of
man, or in the body alone. As the Carakasamhita formulates,
sariramulah ca purusah bhavati: Everything about purusa or man is
established in the body". (ii.6.6) The Susrutasamhita wants to be
more specific: The term purusa should be taken to mean those
substances from which the purusa originates, i.e. matter in its
different forms; it should be taken also to mean the various parts
or limbs of purusathe skin, flesh, bone, vein, nerve, etc"
(i.1.47). But the question is: How is the making of man from matter
or bhuta to be understood? A brief formulation of the
Susrutasamhita may be quoted: Knowing man or purusa as the product
of rasa, one must be specially careful about the preservation of
rasa". (i.14.12)What, then, is meant by rasa, of which man or
purusa is supposed to be made? It is one of the key concepts of
ancient Indian medicine and, in the context of the making of the
human body, is perhaps best translated as organic sap". But the
special point to be noted is that this view of man being made of
rasa brings us back to the materialistic understanding of purusa in
Ayurveda, because rasa itself is viewed as made of matter in five
forms (pancabhuta). Here is how the Susrutasamhita explains the
origin of rasa: Food, which is made of matter in five forms, when
fully transformed into its subtlest essence by the agency of fire
(within the body) becomes rasa." (i.14.1) It is called rasa, says
the text, because the word is derived from the root ras (to move"),
and the substance thus named is ceaselessly circulating throughout
the organism. (i.14.13) From this rasa are successively formed all
the main constituents of the bodyblood, flesh, fat, bone, marrow
and semen. (ib., cf. CS vi.15.17) Hence is the brief formulation of
the Caraka-samhita: "The body is verily the product of food."
(i.28.41) Since, however, food itself is made of matter in five
forms, another way of putting the view is to say, Body means the
totality of the transformation of five forms of mattera totality
that becomes the substratum of consciousness." (CS iv.6.4) Or, as
the Susrutasamhita wants to explain, The body is made of matter in
five forms. Food also is made of matter in five forms. When fully
transformed, the properties of the five forms of matter in food go
to add to their counterparts in the body." (i. 46. 533).Such an
understanding of the making of man from the natural substances
consumed leads the physician to see the intimate interrelation
between nature and man, or, according to their way of putting, to
the view of man as a microcosm of nature. As the Carakasamhita
claims: "Whatever concretely exists in nature exists also in man
(purusa); whatever concretely exists in man, exists also in nature.
Such is the way in which the intelligent persons want to view
both." (iv. 4.13)But what exactly are the physicians driving at?
What, according to them, concretely exists both in man and nature,
making the former an epitome of the latter? The context in which
this formulation occurs leaves us with no uncertainty about the
answer. What the physicians are talking of is only matter and its
transformation. The formulation, it needs to be noted, occurs
immediately after discussing how natural matter in its five forms
contributes to the formation of everything in the human body,
beginning from the foetal stage. As the text, referring to the
foetus formations, says, "In it (foetus), even what is derived from
the mother . . . is after all nothing but the transformation of
matter." (iv.4.12)Understandably enough, such a formulation is as
significant from the viewpoint of modern science as it was
difficult for the ancient scientists to work out. It needs a good
deal of the knowledge of matter and of the laws of its
transformation to work out the proposition. The ancient scientists
who are only beginning to grope for the knowledge of matter are not
expected to give us an account of the formation of the body from
natural matter more satisfactorily than is historically possible
for them. Historically speaking, however, the more important point
is that some people somewhere must make a beginning with this
understanding and thereby create the possibility for further
research in the right direction. In ancient India at any rate the
physicians appear to have taken this first bold step.From the point
of view of the history of ideas, what is decisive about this step
is its commitment to the materialist outlook. The Carakasamhita
does not mince words about this materialism. It makes Atreya, the
spokesman of medicine in the text, sum up a medical colloquium with
the following observation: sarvam dravyam pancabhautikam asmin
arthe; tat cetanavat, acetanam cathis discipline (medicine)
everything is viewed as made of matter in five forms (pancabhuta).
These are either endowed with consciousness or are just
unconscious." (i.26.10)The statement is categorical and
unambiguous. Whatever the metaphysician may have to say, the
physicianas physiciancannot but be a materialist, because from the
medical viewpoint there is nothing that is not made of matter. Even
things endowed with consciousness are as much made of matter as
things without consciousness.Lest the materialist commitment of
Ayurveda is casually viewed, we may mention here another point. The
ancient physicians were apparently aware of the prestige and
popularity of other philosophical views current in ancient India.
But they ask themselves the question: Can the physician, in the
special capacity of a physician, at all operate without a
materialist view? The Susrutasamhita comes out with a clear answer
to it and the answer is in the negative. Reviewing the
philosophical views current in ancient Indiaspecially Upanisadic
idealism (or Vedanta) and that form of the Samkhya which was
already being eclipsed by this idealismthe text asserts that from
the medical point of view at any rate only the materialist outlook
has real relevance. Thus we are told, It is claimed that the
knowledge of matter in different forms is alone relevant for
medicine, because in the therapeutic context it is impermissible to
conceive of anything transcending matter." (iii.1.17) Let,
therefore, the metaphysicians have their own views and let not the
physicians dabble with these. What is imperative for them, however,
is that they must not think of anything transcending matter.It may
be easy for us to call this materialism crude, naive and primitive.
It could not indeed be otherwise. What concerns us here, however,
is not the philosophical assessment of this materialism in modern
standards but its historical importance. The point, in other words,
is that the first decisive step to natural science taken in ancient
India was characterised by an awareness of the need for materialist
view of things. It was this that could lay the foundation for
patient researches for centuries to come. Hence is its abiding
interest for the history of ideas.Besides, it would be wrong for us
to overlook certain other positions that followed from the
rudimentary materialism of the ancient physicians.As already seen,
the physicians conceived matter in five formspanca-bhutaby which
were meant earth, water, air, fire and sky (akasa). But these do
not mean earth, water etc. as ordinarily experienced, because
underlying such things of ordinary experience they try to see same
grand principle of interconnection of the basic forms of matter. As
the Susrutasamhita says, Five forms of matter exist in everything
of the world, because of their mutual interdependence and because
of their mutual interpenetration." (i.42.3) Thus, according to this
view, though matter exists in five fundamental forms and though
everything in natureincluding manis made of matter only, there is
hardly anything concretely existing in nature as made of
exclusively or purely one form of matter. What is decisive about
everything is the principle of interconnection and interrelation of
matter, as a result of which matter in all its five forms go to the
making of everything. What, then, are earth, water, etc, as
ordinarily experienced? The Susrutasamhita answers that though
everything concretely existing in nature is made of matter in all
its five forms, because of the predominance of one matterform in
something it is called made of earth" or made of water" etc.
(i.42.3).The special need felt by the physicians to take such a
view would be too complicated a matter for our present discussion.
What nevertheless need to be noted here are certain theoretical
positions following from the view. Because of the basic
interpenetration and interaction of matter in all its forms in
everything belonging to nature, nothing in nature can be irrelevant
from the medical viewpoint. This is evidently a point of crucial
significance for Ayurveda, because we find both the medical
compilations trying repeatedly to emphasise it. The Carakasamhita
asserts, "There is nothing in nature which is without relevance for
medicine." (i. 27. 330) The text repeats, No substance is found in
the world which is without relevance for medicine." (i.26.12) In
the Susrutasamhita we read, "There is no substance in the world
which cannot be used for some medical purpose." (i.42.9)
Incidentally, this reminds us of the legend of Jivaka. After he
completed his medical studies in Taksasila, his preceptorfor the
purpose of testing his knowledgeasked him to find from within a
certain radius of the city those things that were irrelevant for
medical purposes. After a meticulous search of the place, the young
man returned with the apparently sad report that he could find
nothing like that. And indeed, how could hefrom the point of view
of Ayurvedafind any such thing? If the interrelation and
interpenetration of matter in all its forms were the basic fact
about everything in nature as well as in man, there could obviously
be nothing in nature totally irrelevant for the therapeutic
technique, which was conceived after all as the technique of
matterreadjustment within the body.We shall briefly note here
another interesting theoretical position that follows from the
early materialism of the ancient Indian doctors. From their point
of view, as we have already seen, human body is the product of
food. Since food is something made of matter, this view amounts to
the assertion that the human body thrives on the absorption of
matter in its various formations of natural things. But this
absorption of natural matter by body matter is a ceaseless process.
That is why, the body itself and everything about it are viewed in
Ayurveda as being involved in a process of ceaseless flux, there
being the perpetual replacement of the constituents of the body as
a result of the intake and excretion of material things in nature.
For the ancient physicians this means that the old body is being
constantly replaced by a new one and the apparent impression of the
persistence of the old body is due only to the similarity between
the old and the new one. As the Carakasamhita says, "Nothing about
the body remains the same. Everything in it is in a state of
ceaseless change. Although in fact the body is produced anew every
moment, the similarity between the old body and the new body gives
the apparent impression of the persistence of the same body "
(iv.1.46)Understandably, the phenomenon called lifein which the
physicians are so keenly interestedcannot be an exception to this
universal process of coming into being and passing out of
existence. Hence, it is only natural that they should want us to
note the essential transitoriness of life. In their view, life is
nothing but the combination of certain natural substances, which
they call the desirable kind of food materials. As the
Carakasamhita formulates: pranah pranabhutam annam"Life is just
food transformed into the living." (i.27.24950) The ceaseless
process of further absorption of food. materials by the living
beings (as well as the excretion of the wasteproducts called kitta)
makes them perpetually changing. However, because of the laws
inherent in nature, this process of ceaseless change in the
matterconstituents in the body reaches a stage at which the body
form itself disintegrates and its matterconstituents start
reverting back to their original natural state. Life, which comes
into being, thus ceases to be. This is ordinarily called death or
marana. But since in the physician's view, this is nothing but a
return of the body matter to matter in its environmental or natural
condition, one of the synonyms they propose for marana is svabhava,
by which is meant "nature", or perhaps more appropriately, law of
nature". Significantly, another synonym proposed for the same is
impermanence or anityata. Thus, discussing the symptoms of the
approaching end of a man's life, the Carakasamhita says, "From
these it can be predicted that he would revert back to nature
during such and such moment and such and such hour . . . Here (in
Ayurveda) nature svabhava, end of activities (pravrtteh uparamah),
death (marana), impermanence (anityata) and cessation (nirodha) are
all synonymous terms." (i.30.27)To sum up: According to the basic
theoretical generalisation of Ayurveda, everything is made of
matter and everything is involved in the ceaseless process of
coming into being and passing out existence. [15]From the medical
point of view, however, all this raises a serious question. Where
and how, in this general scheme of things do the doctors come in?
They are not philosophers after all. Their purpose is a practical
one, namely to maintain health and cure diseases. If, therefore,
the physicians feel the need of some theoretical understanding as
well, the presumption is that it is also essential for their
practical purposes.How, then, could this be essential?To ensure
health and cure sickness, it is necessary first of all to
understand what these really mean. Serious preoccupation with this
problem leads the physicians to the view of the interaction between
environmental matter and body matter, because everything about the
bodyinclusive of health and sicknessdepends on it. Environmental
matter existing in the form of different natural things enters into
the making and maintenance of body and life. But there is a right
way as well as a wrong way in which the transformation of natural
matter into body matter can take place. Matter consumed in the
right form, in right proportion and right combination results in
what is supposed to be the proper balance or harmony or equilibrium
of the body elements. Health means nothing but this. Disease again
is nothing but the loss of this equilibrium resulting from the
wrong way of absorbing environmental matteri.e. either the
overabsorption or under-absorption of some specific form of it.From
this understanding follows the main point of the therapeutic
technique. Put in very general terms, it is matter-readjustment
within the body aimed at the restoration of desired balance of the
body elements. The Carakasamhita repeatedly emphasises this point:
"Here (in medical science) the effect aimed at is the balance of
the body elements. The purpose of the present work is to instruct
on the effective measures to ensure the balance of the body
elements." (i.1.53; cf i.16.345; etc). Since, however, there is
nothing in nature or man which is not made of matter, the
therapeutic techniqueput in more general termsmeans that if there
is an excess of body matter in some particular form resulting from
the wrong absorption of environmental matter, the physician has to
prescribe as diet or drug the kind of substances that has the
efficacy of bringing down this particular form of body matter to
its normal level, i.e. to the level at which it retains a balance
with body matter in other forms. Secondly, if there is a diminution
of body matter in some specific form resulting from the lack of
absorption or inadequate absorption of environmental matter in this
form, the physician has to prescribe as diet or drug certain
specific substances which, when transformed within the body, raises
the affected body matter to its required level.Thus the physicians'
knowledge consists mainly of all sorts of natural substances
(dravyas) and of their actions (karma) on human bodies. On this
knowledge depends his therapeutic technique of properly adjusting
the interaction between environmental matter and body matter. But
the physicians are also anxious to explain that this technique must
not be misunderstood. The interaction between body matter and
environmental matter takes place according to the laws of nature,
and, as laws of nature, these are immutable. No physician can
tamper with these laws in any way. None can create these laws or
alter the course of their action. All that the physicians can do is
to acquire better insight into these laws, so that their natural
course is best utilised in the interest of the patient. This is
easily explained with the analogy of fire. Fire burns or radiates
heat, and this because of the law of nature. There is no way of
changing the law itself. But there are ways of using the knowledge
of this law to serve our purposesinclusive of medical purposes, as
is obvious, e.g., in cauterization and cooking, two of the most
useful techniques from the standpoint of ancient Indian
medicine.Thus, all the mastery over nature that the doctor can
aspire for is conceived in terms of the knowledge of nature. If
anywhere in ancient Indian thought we see the real anticipation of
the view that knowledge is powerwhich, when further worked out,
assumes the formulation that freedom is the recognition of
necessityit is among the practitioners of the healing technique.
But it is not easy for the ancients to develop expressions adequate
for conveying such a profound idea. Here is one of the ways in
which our Carakasamhita seems to grope for such an expression:
"Like poison, like weapon, like fire, like lightningthe drug whose
nature is not understood remains a source of unknown terror. When
understood, however, it proves as beneficial as nectar".
(i.1.24)This is an ancient way of putting the point no doubt. But
the point itself is not to be slighted as just primitive. Fire,
poison and so on are for us sources of harm only so long as their
real nature is not understood. But as we acquire insight into them,
we can use them for our benefit. Knowledge is power.Elsewhere in
the Carakasamhita basically the same idea is sought to be conveyed
in a way which may at first appear to be somewhat peculiar. It is
argued that Ayurvedain the sense of a body of natural lawsis
beginningless or anadi, because nature exists from a beginningless
past, and, along with nature, the laws that are inherent in it.
Medical science can be said to have a beginning only from the
standpoint of acquiring knowledge of these laws or of spreading the
knowledge. So also it is necessary not to misunderstand the
significance of the therapeutic technique. Diseases are cured not
by any artificial technique of which the doctors are the
innovators. These are cured by the laws inherent in nature, which
the doctors can only know and, therefore, rightly apply. As the
text puts the point: "Apart from the restricted sense of acquiring
this knowledge and of spreading it, there is no sense in saying
that medical science came into being having been nonexistent
before. It is indeed only with reference to these two circumstances
(i.e. of acquiring the knowledge of the laws of nature and of
spreading such knowledge) that the origin of Ayurveda is alluded to
by some. But there is nothing about these laws (and therefore about
Ayurveda, which is based on the knowledge of these laws) that is
created by anybody (akrtaka). As is said in the present chapter as
well as in the first chapter, these laws are but natural laws
(svabhavika)just like the laws because of which fire is hot and
water liquid." (i.30.27)The point mentioned last needs to be very
carefully noted and hence we quote it in its original Sanskrit:
svabhavikam ca asya taksanam akrtakam yat uktam iha adye adhyaye
ca; yatha agneh ausnam, apam dravatvam. From the need felt to
reemphasise a point already made earlier, the importance intended
to be attached to it becomes clear. The view of the laws inherent
in naturetechnically called svabhavais essential for Ayurveda. Thus
the fundamental postulates of ancient Indian medicine are: 1)
everything in nature takes place according to the laws inherent in
nature, 2) though immutable, these laws are nevertheless knowable,
and 3) the knowledge of these laws brings power over nature, which,
medically means ensuring a long and healthy life.The entire
theoretical presupposition of the therapeutic technique of Ayurveda
thus hinges on one point. It is the concept of svabhava, which
literally means nature", or, as I am inclined to understand it, law
or laws of nature". [16] We do not unfortunately have the scope
here to go into the details of this concept of svabhava. But it is
essential to note that without the commitment to the view of
svabhava, the therapeutic technique of the ancient physicians has
no other rationale. Why should a natural substance with a specific
matter composition affect the matter composition of the human body
in a specific way? The ancient physicians know only one answer to
it. It is svabhava. Ayurveda cannot thus but be committed to the
view of svabhava.But the commitment is extremely risky and the risk
involved is frankly political. The view of svabhava is wellknown in
the philosophical circles of ancient India and there are many
references to it in our ancient literature. Reviewing these
references, Hiriyanna [17] observes, "What needs to be noticed
about it is its positivistic character which is implied by the
contrast that is sometimes drawn between it an adrstavada or belief
in supernatural. In this it differs from the supernaturalism of the
Mantras and Brahmanas on the one hand, and on the other from the
metaphysical view of the Upanisads."Let us first try to be clear
about this supernaturalism or adrstavada. The word adrsta refers to
what is supposed to be the accumulated merits or demerits of the
past actions (karma) of an individual. In the officially accepted
view, this adrsta is moreover supposed to determine one's present
lot. It is thus the ultimate ideological justification of the
hierarchical social norm, strenuously defended by the Indian
lawmakers. It is because of adrsta that one is born as a dvija or a
sudra, i.e. as a member of the privileged class or of the class of
direct producers without any privilege whatsoever. Since the view
of svabhava, completely rejects adrsta, the Indian lawmakers are
obliged to denounce it as abject heresy.This leads us to see the
political risk involved in the basic theoretical presupposition of
the therapeutic technique. Without being politicians themselves,
the ancient doctors were dragged into politics. As physicians, they
cannot but pin their hopes on understanding the laws of nature,
because they feel convinced that only on the basis of this
understanding they can relieve human beings of avoidable suffering,
or, in their own terminology, cure the curable diseases. Two
chapters of the Carakasamhida are designed to discuss the view that
medicine depends on fourand only fourfactors. [18] These are the
physician, the substances (used for medical purposes), the nursing
attendant and the patient. Apart from discussing the essential
qualifications for each of these factorswhich, incidentally, are
very much reminiscent of modern conditions [19]one of the main
drifts of the chapters is the defence of the intrinsic efficacy of
medicine. The main point argued is that a qualified doctor with the
correct understanding of the natural cause of diseases and supplied
with the right natural remedies for these, cannot but cure a
curable disease. In case of a disease being incurable, he can
prescribe some palliative. Throughout the discussion, the view of
karma and adrsta are completely ignored, or by implication, totally
rejected. Indeed, without the rejection of the view of karma and
adrsta, the defence of the intrinsic efficacy of medicine is not
feasible, for according to the view of karma and adrsta everything
about maninclusive of his health and suffering from diseaseis to be
viewed as being basically determined by his past actions alone. In
the Buddhist text Milindapanho, [20] the question of disease and
karma is in fact squarely raised and it is admitted that diseases
have natural causes after all, and hence it is not correct to think
that these are caused by karma. Our point here is not whether the
Buddhist preacher making such an arbitrary restriction to the law
of karma is sufficiently selfconsistent or not. The point on the
contrary is the frank admission that karma and medicine do not go
together.The ancient Indian doctors had to flout no doubt many
injunctions and prohibitions of the ancient Indian lawmakers. They
had to prescribe as diet and drug many things considered taboos by
the lawmakers; notwithstanding strongest legal prohibitions against
touching the corpse, the physicians felt obliged to dissect corpse
for the sake of anatomical knowledge; besides, as we shall
presently see, their healing technique required of them a
democratic commitment which was also intensely detested by the
lawmakers. But to questioneven by implicationthe law of karma and
adrsta was perhaps the limit. It was in fact questioning the very
norm of the hierarchical society itself. That was aspiring to be
too severely scientific to remain unnoticed by the establishment.
We have in this at least a major clue to what eventually happened
to Indian medicine, in spite of its brilliant early promise.The
promise of science and philosophy with which rationalist medicine
began in ancient India was not fulfilled. There grew a very intense
resistance to it and the resistance was expressed primarily by the
lawmakers, i.e. those who had ostensibly nothing to do either with
science or philosophy. Their purpose was indeed frankly opposed to
that of the scientists. Let us try to be clear about it.While the
scientists are interested in the theory and practice by which man
acquires mastery over nature, the lawmakers are interested in the
theory and practice by which man may acquire mastery over man, i.e.
to keep the large masses of men under control or as lawabiding
people, which, in the ancient Indian context, concretely means
people submitting to the model of varnasrama society.
Understandably, therefore, the ancient Indian lawmakers find their
basic purpose totally incompatible with the promise of positive
science. And the fact is that they came out sharply against it.This
leads us to see an apparently bewildering phenomenon, namely the
intense contempt expressed for the physicians and surgeons in the
Indian legal literature. The usual way of expressing it is to
declare that the physicians and surgeons are intrinsically impure
beingsso impure indeed that their very presence pollutes a place,
that food offered by them is too filthy to be accepted and that
even food offered to them turns into something vile. Here are just
a few examples.The lawcodes of Apastamba declare that food given by
a physician is too filthy to be accepted by members of higher
castes (i.6.19.14). Gautama's lawcodes assert that a Brahmin may
accept food from a "trader who is not an artisan", but he must not
accept food from an artisan or a surgeon who belongs to the group
of the intrinsically impure persons (xvii. 7 & 17). The
lawcodes of Vasistha fully concur: food offered by the physician is
as impure as that offered by the harlot etc. (xiv. 110 &
19).The three authorities just quoted are the most prominent of the
earliest Indian lawmakers, whose workscalled the Dharmasutrasare
usually placed between 600300 B.C. The legal contempt for the
physicians and therefore also for their science thus dates back to
a very ancient period. The later legal literature shows how it
continues. Here is only one example. The most prominent of the
Indian lawbooks is Manusmrti, the codification of which is usually
dated as the first or second century A.D. Like the earlier
lawmakers, Manu declares that it is prohibited for the members of
the higher castes to accept food from the physicians. What he adds
to it is only a greater contempt for such food: "the food received
from a doctor is as vile as blood and pus" (iv. 220). Accordingly,
Manu takes care to prescribe that like the other intrinsically
impure persons the physicians are not to be allowed to attend
sacrifices offered to the gods and manes, because their very
presence destroys the sanctity of the sacrifices (iii. 152). The
later commentators of Manu like Medhatithi (A.D. 900) and
Kullukabhatta (c A.D. 11501300) elaborately explain the
desirability of enforcing these laws.Hence there can obviously be
no sanction from the lawmakers' point of view for the dvija or
member of the privileged class to go in for medical practice. This
is already emphasized in the lawcodes of Vasistha, which declare
that a Brahmin who makes his living by medical practice forfeits
his right to be considered a dvija (iii. 3). But this cannot but
raise a practical problem. If medicine, in spite of its obvious
use, is too derogatory a profession to be followed by the dvijas,
on whom can its practice be entrusted? Manu answers the question
and says: medical practice must remain restricted among the
Ambasthas (x. 47). Who, then, are the Ambasthas? Though
historically speaking they appear to be members of. some ancient
tribe, Manu wants us to believe in a fanciful genealogy of them,
which is intended to prove that they are bastards (varnasamkaras)
in caste nomenclature. They are born, says Manu, of the mating of
Brahmana males with Vaisya females (x. 10)a quaint story taken up
in the ancient lawcodes of Baudhayana (i.8.7 & i.9.3) and
reasserted by the later lawmakers.Such then is the contempt for
medicine and its practitioners expressed in the Indian legal
literature. This, it is necessary to note, is not a stray thought.
Beginning roughly from the sixth century B.C. it continues up to
the 13th/14th century A.D., i.e. the time of the most famous
commentators of Manu. Yet there is something very strange about it,
because nowhere do the lawmakers express the real ground for their
contempt for medicine. The condemnation of the doctors is just
decreed, as if the sense of degradation and filth attached to them
is too obvious to require any explanation.Before passing on
further, it may be useful to have some clarification.. The
pollution imputed to the doctors could not be because of their
indifference to physical cleanliness. The Carakasamhita at any rate
refuses to accept the norm of a medical practitioner who does not
observe the regulations of personal cleanliness. The four essential
qualifications required of a doctor are: 1) clear grasp of the
theoretical content of medical science, 2) a wide range of
experience, 3) practical skill and 4) cleanliness (i.9.6).
Cleanliness is thus as important for him as his medical knowledge,
experience and practical skill.It may be relevant to quote here at
least two passages from the medical compilations to have some more
idea of the kind of persons and their qualities in whom the
lawmakers sense so much of defilement. Describing the young men who
alone are entitled to medical studies, the Susrutasamhita says, He
should be cleanly in his habits and well shaved and should not
allow his nails to grow. He should wear white garments, put on a
pair of shoes, carry a stick and an umbrella in his hands, and walk
about with a mild and benign look as a friend of all creatures,
ready to help all, and frank and friendly in his talk and demeanour
and never allow the full control of his reason or intellectual
powers to be in any way disturbed or interfered with" (i.10.2). In
the same context, the Carakasamhita, says, He should be peaceful,
noble in disposition, incapable of any mean act, with straight
eyes, face and nose, with slim body, having a clean and red tongue,
without distortion of teeth and lips, with clear voice,
persevering, without egotism, intelligent, endowed with powers of
reasoning and good memory, with broad mind, . . . with eagerness to
have knowledge of truth, with no deformity of body and no defect of
senseorgans, by nature modest and gentle, contemplating on the true
nature of things, without anger and without addiction, endowed with
good conduct, cleanliness, good habits, love, skill and courtesy,
desirous of the welfare of all living beings, devoid of greed and
laziness and having full loyalty and attachment to the teacher"
(iii.8.8).All this gives us some glimpse of the moral qualities of
the physicians visualised by the ancient medical compilations. In
this connection, it is tempting to quote another passage from the
Carakasamhita, "Among the physicians he surpasses all who practise
medicine neither for the sake of money nor for the sake of sensual
gratification in any other form, but is motivated above all by the
compassion for all living beings. Those who, as a source of income,
want to sell medical skill like any other commodity
(cikitsapanyavikrayam), appear to be running after a heap of dust
overlooking the hoard of gold. Compared to the physician who cuts
off the noose of death and brings back to life those who are being
dragged by fierce diseases towards death, nobody confers greater
blessingsmoral or materialto the human beings. One who practises
the healing technique with compassion for the living beings as the
noblest of all duties is a person who really fulfils his mission
and thereby gets entitled to the highest form of happiness" (vi.
ID. 5862).Here at any rate we read in ancient medicine something
from which physicians today have much to learn.We see in the
ancient doctor the seeker of the knowledge of nature, not only
hoping to convert this knowledge into successful healing technique
but also boldly protesting Against the merchandisation of his
knowledge and skill, which 'is so aptly described as
cikitsapanyavikrayam. If, in view of the rudimentary technological
development on which he is historically obliged to depend, it is
necessary for him to be patient in investigating nature, the way in
which he also chooses to be patient in serving humanitypinning his
hope on the conviction that the knowledge of the laws of nature
alone holds the prospect of alleviating human sufferingscannot but
be judged as highly remarkable. That is the image we have of the
scientist in our ancient medical compilations"the composite image .
. . devoted equally to the patient investigation of nature and the
patient service of humanity", with scant respect for the idea that
the professional fee establishes the only bond between the healer
and the healed. "To one who understands, knowledge of nature and
love of humanity are not two things but one." This indeed would be
a very lucid way of putting what the genuine physicians of our
Carakasamhita stand for.Yet, it is against these physicians that
the lawmakers express so much of contempt. Why, then, is this
contempt? Apparently, the lawmakers feel that there is some
compelling reason for them to express this. What, then, is this
reason?We can see this when we take note of the actual source and
nature of the Indian legal literature. This literature originates
in the priestly corporations and has the primary purpose of
validating the norm of hierarchical society, of which the priests
are the earliest ideologists. This is easily seen when we take note
of the origin of the Dharmasastras. Though in the course of time
these acquire absolute authority in legal matters, they actually
represent Indian law still bound by the umbilical cord as it were
with the ancient priestcraft of which they are born. As Winternitz
puts it, "The Dharmasastras originated in the closest association
with the literature of the ritual . . . Hence they are neither a
mere collection of rules, nor pure lectures on jurisprudence . . .
They, exactly as the old manuals, had sprung up in the Vedic
schools, for the purpose of imparting instruction and were not
written as codes for practical use in the courts of law." [21]Thus,
beginning from the days of its inception, the Indian legal
literature is obliged to follow a science policy which is already
prescribed by the Indian priest class, and from which, during its
entire subsequent course, it seeks scriptural sanction.But do the
ancient Indian priests really formulate a science
policy?Interestingly enough, at least as far as medicine is
concerned, they do formulate such a policy. This is evidenced by
the Yajurveda, which is for us the first fullfledged piece of
priestly literature. It declares: "The Brahmin must not practise
medicine, because the physician is impure and unfit for
sacrifice"brahmanena bhesajam na karyam, aputah hi esah amedhyah
yah bhisak. (Tait. Sam. vi.4.9)But why is the physician considered
impure? The Yajurveda gives us a startling answer to this. As
translated by Bloomfield, the answer is: "The practice entails
promiscuous, unaristrocratic mingling with men." [22]This, to say
the least, is most remarkable. Put in modern terminology, the main
charge against the doctors is that their science necessarily
commits them to the democratic norm. As the Yajurveda elsewhere
complains, "All sorts of persons rush to the physicians." (Mait.
Sam. iv.6.2) But why does the commitment to the democratic norm
makes the physicians so impure? There is only one answer to it.
This commitment is incompatible with the requirements of the
hierarchical or varnasrama society.We can briefly note here one
point indicating the fabulous power acquired by this view in the
consciousness of the priest class. [23] Vedic scholarship wants us
to admit that among the Vedic compilations, the Yajurveda is the
latest. Between this fullfledged priestly manual and the genuinely
early hymns of the Rgveda, the time gap must have been very long.
These genuinely early hymns, it is further shown by Vedic research,
are unaware of the hierarchical aspirations, which is first
foreshadowed in a very late hymn called the Purusasukta and which
becomes the most dominant theme of the Yajurveda. Significantly,
along with the hierarchical aspirations are absent in the ancient
Rgvedic hymns any contempt for medicine and its practitioners. On
the contrary, in the mythological imagination of the ancient
Rgvedic poets or seers, the twingods called the Asvins or Nasatyas
are highly eulogised for their medical skill. They are the
physicians of the gods and the friendliest of friends of human
beings. What, then, can the Yajurvedic priests do about these
ancient gods?What they actually do is most amazing. The Yajurveda
strongly censors them, demotes them and declares that they are
degraded because of their medical career. The priests even go to
the extent of prescribing ritual purification for these ancient
gods, so, that their medical past can be somehow or other
atoned.The sense of degradation attached to the ancient Asvins
continues in the vast Brahmanaliterature, which grows directly out
of the Yajurveda. As the Satapatha Brahmana declares: The other
gods said to the Asvins: 'We will not invite you, for you have
wandered much among men performing cures'. (iv. 1,5. 1 15)So the
priests do not spare even the gods, whose medical career commits
them to the democratic norm. But these Brahmanatexts mention
another ground because of which medicineor, for that matter,
anything containing the promise of positive science in any sensehas
got to be censored from the viewpoint of the hierarchical
aspirations. The main basis of medical science, as we have already
seen, is made of empirical. knowledge, the importance of which the
medical compilations consciously emphasise. Depending mainly on
direct observation, Ayurveda aspires even after the knowledge of
nature as a whole, because it is felt that there can be nothing in
nature irrelevant for medical purposes. With the emergence of the
hierarchical aspirations in the Vedic literature, however, it is
all different. What is now cared for is a system of behaviour by
which a privileged minority acquires mastery over the vast majority
of direct producers. That which is most needed for the purpose is
an ideology that draws some kind of mystical veil on nature, as
that people can be persuaded to believe that things are not what
appear to their eyes. The ideologists trying to validate the powers
and privileges of the ruling minority have thus to begin with a
distorted description of reality, i.e. the technique of twisting,
concealing and mystifying the actual nature of the world, along
with everything that goes on in it. What cannot be tolerated from
this point of view is the direct knowledge of naturethe
understanding of natural facts as these are actually
observed.Accordingly, the vast Brahmanatexts take special rare in
proclaiming that the purposive distortion of reality is one of
their holy missions. The typical priestly formula by which this is
eulogised is to claim that the gods themselves delight in making
things purposively obscure, mysterious, unintelligible:
paroksapriyah iva hi devab. (e.g. Ait. Br. vii. 30; iii.33; Sat.
Br. vi. 1.2; etc)We shall presently see how Yajnavalkya, the great
idealist philosopher of the Upanisads, explains this formula. For
the present the point is that if the gods themselves are fond of
concealing the actual nature of things, the mortals can search for
the knowledge of nature as it actually is only by flouting the
gods. Anything genuinely foreshadowing positive science is thus a
sin or a sacrilege. Any discipline aspiring to be science in our
sense has thus to be condemned and despised as impure. It is no
wonder, therefore, that the Indian legal literature, which emerges
directly from the priestly corporations, should go on preaching for
centuries a total contempt for medicine, which, of all the
disciplines of ancient India, aspires to be science in our
sense.The continued condemnation of medicine in the officially
approved social norm seems to be the most serious external factor
that accounts for its decadence and eventual theoretical collapse.
To evade censorship of the lawmakers, its later representatives
seem to concede to the ideological requirements of the priests to
the extent of almost obliterating the grand theoretical
achievements of Ayurveda during its creative period. This cripples
medicine, which is ultimately made to look like a confused
assemblage of science and its opposite. [24] The result is a
calamity for ancient Indian culture, the enormity of which is to be
judged by what rationalist medicine once promised to it.No. The
calamity was much greater. The ideological requirements of the
hierarchical social norm not only crippled science; it also
corrupted philosophy. We shall end with a brief idea of this.To the
Brahmanatexts are traditionally appended the Upanisads, which are
for us the earliest documents of Indian philosophical thought
proper. There is no doubt that the philosophers of the Upanisads
are among the greatest luminaries of their age. Their glory has
been extensively discussed by scholars, traditional as well as
modern. We need not reiterate this over again. What nevertheless
needs to be discussed is the grave danger created for the general
direction of the development of their philosophical thought by the
spell on them of the priestly dictum censoring direct observation
or empirical evidence. Yajnavalkya, by far the most renowned
metaphysician of the Upanisads, quotes the dictum. It seems,
however, that a thinker of his stature feels that it is in need of
some explication. While reiterating it, therefore, he adds a brief
explanatory expression and says, The gods are fond of the obscure;
they detest direct knowledge" paroksapriyah iva hi devah;
prayaksadvisah. (By. Up. iv. 2.2)The cryptic expression added to
the dictumnamely pratyaksa dvisahconveying divine distaste for
direct knowledge, speaks volumes. The great metaphysician, while
explaining the priestly dictum, explains in his own way its
calamitous consequence for natural science. In the theoretical
climate created by this endorsement, the zeal for the objective
knowledge of nature inspired by the conviction that it alone holds
the prospect of improving the lot of humanity, is quite dead. The
magnificent theoretical endowments of the metaphysicians have to
explore other avenues for selffulfilment. Philosophy not only
breaks away from sciencefrom the norm of interrogating naturebut
moreover succumbs to a peculiar delusion of the omnipotence of pure
reason or pure thought. Thought wants to dictate terms to reality
and to announce itself as the only reality. Knowledge no longer
aspires to be the knowledge of the objects. It wants to be the
knowledge of the subjectof the bare ego or the pure self. As an
Upanisadic metaphysician aptly describes it: "the libido fixed on
the ego, sporting with the ego, copulating with the ego, delighting
in the ego"atmaratih atmakridah atmamaithuna atmanandaa (Ch Up vii.
25. 2)This, in short, is extreme introversion that the
psychiatrists speak of. Extreme introversion, we are further told,
brings into operation a delusion of grandeur. It is the delusion of
the omnipotence of the bare ego. The Upanisadic metaphysician gives
us an admirable description of it: I, indeed, am below. I am above.
I am to the east. I am to the west. I, indeed, am the whole world."
(Ch Up vii. 2512)The immediate result of this great grandeur
attributed to the pure "I", is the lofty contempt for nature or the
material world, which, in this metaphysical trend, is finally
reduced to some kind of phantom or maya fabricated by just
ignorance or avidya. Disowning direct perception or experience,
which is for man the starting point of understanding nature, the
metaphysician's consciousness tends to rise to ever more remote
conditions where only thought remains and the things thought of
fade out. This is the cult of pure reason. Among the leisured
minority living on the surplus produced by the vast masses of
manual workers, [25] consciousnessestranged from the active
intercourse with naturebecomes a form of sick consciousness or
morbid consciousness. It is no longer consciousness of something,
but something like consciousnessinitself just consciousness or
sheer consciousness, which can now be viewed as a deified absolute
as it were, too mysterious to be grasped by mundane thought and too
awesome to be described by mundane language. As Yajnavalkya
declares, it is just a mass of consciousnessvijnaghana (By Up ii.
4. 12). Being by nature beyond the range of normal knowledge, the
only way of referring to it is to say: It is not this; it is not
this'. Or, only by dreaming or sinking further into the state of
dreamless sleep called susupti, one can have some kind of awareness
of it, though this awareness is supposed to he more meaningful only
by attaining a state of cultivated catalepsy technically called
turiya (Br Up iv. 3. 7ff). [26]This is not the place for us to
discuss the dominant trend of the Upanisadic philosophy in more
detail. Tons of books are already written in admiration of it. What
needs to be added to these, however, is only a simple point. The
admiration must not be misplaced. Whatever may be the ground of
admiring it, that cannot he any help it possibly renders to
positive science. In fact, the great Upanisadic metaphysician
Sanatkumara warns us against such a possibility. When Narada
enumerates to him all the branches of knowledge cultivated in
Upanisadic Indiainclusive of protoscience in some formsSanatkumara
declares that from the point of view of his great metaphysical
wisdom, all these have at best a nominal significance: nama eva (Ch
Up vii). But Narada apparently considers medicine too derogatory
even to be mentioned in the list of these disciplines. The humble
researches of men who hoped to remove avoidable human suffering by
a patient study of nature and its evershifting phenomena have lost
all prestige in Upanisadic India, where the gods are supposed to
detest direct knowledge of naturepratyaksa dvisah. The entire
Upanisadic literature is silent about medicine, which, in ancient
India, aspires to be natural science par excellence. The great
luminaries of Upanisadic India like Yajnavalkya and
Sanatkumarawhose breathtaking flights of pure reason proves
stunning for many thinkers even todaymove forward only to put off
the lamp of science. This is how the counterideology required by
the varnasrama or hierarchical social normthe apprehension for and
therefore the denunciation of direct knowledge of naturecondemns
philosophy to develop in a direction that proves disastrous for
natural science.
Notes1. Dasgupta, S N. History of Indian Philosophy, 4 vols,
Cambridge 192255, vol. ii, p. 273 [> main text]2. Sachau, E.C.
AlBeruni's India, reprint Delhi 1964, ii. 107ff. For further
details, see Chattopadhyaya D. What is Living and What is Dead in
Indian Philosophy, New Delhi 1976, pp. 257ff and Chattopadhyaya D.
Science and Society in Ancient India, Calcutta 1977, pp 355ff. (The
present paper is intended mainly to be a summary of the latter.)
[> main text]3. See e.g., Bodding, P.O. Studies in Santhal
Medicine, Calcutta 1925. [> main text]4. SusrutaSamhitha
i.40.123. Cf Carakasamhita i.27.3 [> main text]5. Carakasamhita
i.11.53 [> main text]6. Carakasamhita iii.8.87 [> main
text]7. Chattopadhyaya D. Science and Society in Ancient India, pp.
320ff [> main text]8. Notes sur les Indoscythes in 'Journal
Asiatique', NovDec. 1896 [> main text]9. Dasgupta S.N. op. cit.
ii. 2834 [> main text]10. Filliozat J. The Classical Doctrine of
Indian Medicine, New Delhi 1964, p. 18 [> main text]11.
Mahavagga vi. [> main text]12. Mahavagga viii. [> main
text]13. Cf. Carakasamhita i.27.3: "Now, of all types of evidences,
the most dependable ones are those that are directly observed b the
eyes." This emphasis on the importance of direct observation seems
to be retained mainly in the alchemical literature, of medieval
period. P.C. Ray (Essays and Discourses, Madras 1918) quotes from
two alchemical texts, which it is tempting to quote over again.
Ramacandra, in' his Rasendracintamani, declares: "That which I have
heard of learned men and have read in the sastras but I have not
been able to verify by experiment, I have discarded. On the other
hand, those operations which I haveaccording to, the directions of
my sage teachersbeen able to perform with my own hands, those I
have committed to writing." Yasodhara, in his
Rasaprakas'asudhakara, says: "All the chemical operations described
in my book have been performed with my own hands; I am not writing
from hearsay. Everything related is based on my own conviction and
observations." In an atmosphere in which the lawmakers demanded
abject faith in the scriptures, the alchemists were understandably
considered heretics. [> main text]14. See Lenin, who repeatedly
claims that natural science cannot but instinctively adhere to the
materialist theory of knowledge: Materialism and EmpirioCriticism,
Moscow 1970 edn, pp. 17, 32, 37, 62, 147, 268, 307. [> main
text]15. Engels, specially in his Dialectics of Nature, puts
repeated emphasis on the fact that for the ancient Greek
naturalists the "dialectical outlook" was a brilliant intuition as
it were. See D. Chattopadhyaya, Engels on Philosophy (in Society
and Revolution: Essays in Honour of Engels, New Delhi, 1971). This
point may perhaps be added to the brilliant observations of
Professor Joseph Needham (The Grand Titration, London 1969, p. 176)
on the close similarity between the ancient Indian and ancient
Greek traditions, and this as contrasted with the ancient Chinese
tradition. The contrast is further evidenced by the lack of "logic
and "atomism" in the ancient Chinese tradition, which are among the
outstanding achievements of both Indian and Greek traditions. [>
main text]16. For the discussion of the view of svabhava in more
detail, see Chattopadhyaya D. Indian Atheism (reprint New Delhi
1980) pp. 5568 and What is Living and What is Dead in Indian
Philosophy (New Delhi 1976) pp. 456ff. After rereading Professor
Joseph Needham's Lecture at the Hatfield College of Technology,
1961, however, I feel that the understanding of svabhava as "Laws
of Nature" is in need of this amendment that the
theologicalmetaphorical implication of "Laws of Nature" (Kepler,
Descartes, Boyle and Newton) may be avoided. The concept of
svabhava being profoundly incompatible with the conception of a
celestial lawgiver, may perhaps be better rendered as "internal
necessities of their own nature". cf. rta of Rgveda and tao of the
Taoists. [> main text]17. Hiriyanna, M. Outlines of Indian
Philosophy, reprint Bombay 1973, p.104 [> main text]18.
Carakasamhita i.9 and i.10. [> main text]19. for details, see
Chattopadhyaya D. Science and Society in Ancient India, pp. 190ff
[> main text] 20. Milindapanho iv. 6266. [> main text]21.
Winternitz, M. A History of Indian Literature, Vol. iii, Delhi
1967, p. 538 [> main text]22. Bloomfield, M. in Sacred Books of
the East, Vo. XLI1, introduction p. x1 [> main text]23. For
details of textual references, see Chattopadhyaya D. Science and
Society in Ancient India, pp. 232ff [> main text]24. This makes
it necessary to subject the extant Carakasamhita and Susrutasamhita
to serious textual analysis. See Chattopadhyaya D. Tradition of
Rational Medicine in Ancient India: Case for a Critical Analysis of
the Carakasamhita, paper presented at the IVth World Sanskrit
Conference", Weimar 1979. [> main text]25. For this material
precondition of the origin of the Upanisadic idealism, see
Chattopadhyaya, D. What is Living and What is Dead in Indian
Philosophy, Ch. iv. [> main text]26. For more details of this
line of the argument of the Upanisadic idealists, see
Chattopadhyaya, D. An Introductory Note on Indian Idealism in "K.
M. Asraf: An Indian Scholar and Revolutionary." AkademieVerlag,
Berlin 1966. [> main text]
SOURCE: Chattopadhyaya, Debiprasad. Science and Philosophy in
Ancient India, in Marxism and Indology, edited by Debiprasad
Chattopadhyaya (Calcutta; New Delhi: K. P. Bagchi & Company,
1981), pp. 231-262.