1. Hindu Ethics - Harold G Coward 1989 (SUNY).epub

Hindu Ethics

title:Hindu Ethics : Purity, Abortion, and Euthanasia McGill Studies in the History of Religions author: Coward, Harold G .; Lipner, Julius .; Young, Katherine K publisher:State University of New York Press isbn10 | asin:0887067646 print isbn13:9780887067648 ebook:9780585077888 isbn13 language:English subject Hindu ethics, Body, Human -- Religious aspects -- Hinduism, Abortion -- Religious aspects -- Hinduism, Euthanasia -- Religious aspects -- Hinduism. publication:1989 date lcc:BJ122.C7 1989eb ddc:294.5/48697 subject:Hindu ethics, Body, Human -- Religious aspects -- Hinduism, Abortion -- Religious aspects -- Hinduism, Euthanasia -- Religious aspects -- Hinduism.

Hindu Ethics

McGill Studies in the History of Religions: A Series Devoted to International Scholarship Katherine K. Young, Editor

Hindu Ethics Purity, Abortion, and Euthanasia Harold G. Coward Julius J. Lipner Katherine K. Young State University, of New York Press

Published by State University of New York Press, Albany c 1989 State University of New York All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information, address State University of New York Press, State University Plaza, Albany, N.Y., 12246 Library of Congress Cataloging- in- Publication Data

Coward, Harold G. Hindu ethics. (McGill studies in the history of religions) Includes index. 1. Hindu ethics. 2. Body, HumanReligious aspectsHinduism. 3. AbortionReligious aspects Hinduism. 4. EuthanasiaReligious aspects Hinduism. I. Lipner, Julius. II. Young, Katherine K., 1944- III. Title. IV. Series. BJ122.C7 1988 294.5'48697 87-18075 ISBN 0-88706-763-8 ISBN 0-88706-764-6 (pbk.) 10 9 8 7 6 5

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Contents Introduction Chapter 1. Purity in Hinduism: With Particular Reference to Patañjali's Yoga Sutras *. Harold G Coward €hapter 2. The Classical Hindu View on Abortion and the Moral Status of the Unborn Julius J. Lipner Chapter 3. Euthanasia: Traditional Hindu Views and the Contemporary Debate Katherine K. Young

ABbut the Authors In&Rex

Page 1 Introduction HAROLD G COWARD

Modern Western approaches to India, and in particular to Hinduism, have focused on metaphysics at the expense of ethics. As a result, Westerners have often tended to see Hinduism as concerned with the esoteric, the otherwordly, the mystical, and thus as having a blind eye when it comes to the ethical issues of daily life. Western religions like Judaism and Christianity were thought to offer

something lacking in Hinduism, namely, the moral vitality of the Hebrew prophets and the New Testament. It was this moral vitality that many Christian missionaries saw themselves as bringing to India to challenge an ethically lax Hinduism. Sati * or widow burning and the making of caste distinctions were typical of the so- called heathen practices singled out by the missionaries for attack.1

Is Hinduism a religion which is weak or lacking in ethics? The authors of this book examine this question by analyzing Hindu teaching on three problems of significance for the modern world: purity, abortion, and euthanasia. This approach enables the reader to see what Hinduism has to say about ethical problems which are posing a serious challenge to modern scholars. In

this way, the strengths and weaknesses of Hindu ethics will be immediately apparent to the Western Christian, Jew, humanist, or secularist who wrestles with how abortion, euthanasia, and purity are to be dealt with in our modern world. In this sense, these essays have importance for today's study of medical ethics, social ethics, and human rights, in that they provide a

systematic analysis of these problems from the perspective of a quite different Eastern world view.

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For the student of Eastern religions, these chapters are important for their exploration in depth of the ethical foundations present within Hinduismfoundations which some would say are more basic than the metaphysics of Sankara * and Ramanuja about which so much has been written in English. Recent scholarship has begun to draw attention to the fundamental position of ethics in Hindu thought. In his Structural Depths of Indian Thought,2 P. T. Raju charts a new approach for Western graduate students studying Hinduism. Raju begins with ethics (Mimamsa* and the Dharmasastras*) and moves from that basis to a consideration of metaphysics, such as the ontology of Sankara's* Vedanta *. Raju justifies this

approach by noting that past presentations of Indian Philosophy in English (e.g., S. Radhakrishnan's two- volume indian philosophy) have subsumed and equated ethics with the theories of salvation offered by the various schools. "But," says Raju, "such an equation gives rise, and has given rise to the impression that Indian thought has no idea of moral and ethical law."3 Raju makes clear the importance of the distinction for which he is arguing:

It is not justifiable to equate ethics and the theory of salvation ... From the ultimate point of view, where there is no "Ought" there is no ethics. Disciplines for salvation consist of different forms of worship, breath- control, etc. Nobody is morally obliged to practice them. Most of the Indian philosophers do not regard such practices as an "Ought" (vidhi). But moral law is an "Ought" and the Vedantins and even the Mimamsakas* knew the distinction

between values which are only recommended to be good. Obtaining salvation, like obtaining wealth, is not an "Ought." It is, therefore, not justifiable to equate ethics and the theory of salvation.4

The 'ought' of ethics (dharma) is foundational for all Indian thought in that it includes: the ideals for human life in this world, ones relation to other human beings, the duties of caste (varna*) and the stages of life (asramas*). Sankara* suggests that his teaching of knowledge (jnana*) is intended to follow immediately on study of the Vedas (purva* mimamsa*, the enquiry into dharma),5 and Patanjali* effectively

makes the same requirement in his listing of the bad habits to be broken (yamas) and good habits to be established (niyamas) as requirements for the practise of yoga.6 For Jaimini, ethical action (dharma) is inescapable and is therefore the supreme governing force of the universe.7

The following chapters on purity, abortion, and euthanasia offer case study explorations into specific topics of dharma or Hindu Ethicscase studies which are selected and presented so as to invite comparisons with modern Western thought to develop in the critical reflection of the reader. Such comparisons, which are merely suggested here, will help to remove

Page 3 the apparent otherwordly nature of Hindu thought from the minds of Western readers, as well as give depth and new significance to Indian ideas on these timely topics.

In Chapter 1, Harold Coward surveys attitudes towards purity and bodily function found in the Harappa * culture, the Vedas, Epics, and Laws of Manu but focuses on the way in which these early ideas are systematized in Patanjali's* Yoga Sutras . In the Yoga Sutras, the three gunas* or qualities of tamas (dullness), rajas (passion, movement), and sattva (transparency) are described as having increasing qualities of purity. The yoga technique outlined by

Patanjali* is designed to purify the tamas and rajas from one's material nature (prakrti*) until one becomes virtually pure sattva. The yoga sutras*, like the Vedas and the Laws of Manu, see bodily discharges as polluting in nature (tamasic), and thus the purified yogi shrinks from contact with such substances. Since women have more bodily discharges than men, they are seen as being more impure. Menstrual blood is considered to be especially polluting although

there is ambiguity here since some classical texts treat menstrual blood as the female seed which joins with the male semen to produce the child. Some Tantric practices take the approach of using female discharges, such as menstrual blood, as a ritual drinkthe idea being to use the most powerful female pollution as a means to overcome all pollution. On the whole, however, Hindus see bodily fluids as polluting and menstrual blood as especially so.

Further exemplification of Patanjali's* position is found in the disciplines followed by Gorakhnath* and his followers, the Kanphata* Yogis, during the medieval period. Coward shows how all of this provides a basis for the logical development of a strong negative attitude toward women and persons who do not make an effort to practice cleanliness who are thus empirically seen to be of a lower quality (lower caste).

The traditional Hindu approach to purity is found to exemplify the kind of ethical and philosophical issue that the modern experience of a pluralism of world views raises. What happens when the modern Western presupposition of the right to equality comes into conflict with a traditional world view in which equality at the highest level is not a legal right but a hard won achievement resulting from good ethical choicesthe doing of one's dharmain this and previous lives? Such a

clash occurs when Hindus who have become Canadian or American citizens, and are thus under the equality prescribed by the Charter of Rights of those countries, attempt to practice their traditional religious approach to purity and pollution, a religious practice which that same Charter of Rights guarantees. Coward examines how this conflict with the received egalitarian world view of modernity is present in the new Constitution of India. The clash between

the classical Hindu view

Page 4 of purity and the negative attitude it establishes toward women and the lower castes is examined against the background of the equality prescribed by the Constitution of India.

In Chapter 2, Julius Lipner examines the Hindu attitude to abortion. In the classical Hindu view, the living embryo enjoys a special moral status in the eyes of the Hindu and is specially deserving of protection and respect. In the law books, the killing of a pregnant woman is given the same status as the killing of a Brahmin. Therefore, for the Hindu, pregnancy is a very special state in which the unborn have a moral status which merits special protection. It is no surprise that many Hindu texts specifically condemn

abortion. Special exemplification is provided from the Mahabharata *. Lipner makes clear that, in spite of some suggestions in the law books that it is social status rather than morality which is at issue in cases of abortion, there is a strong moral element in the Hindu condemnation of abortion.

Lipner notes that, in the classical Hindu view, only when the mother's life is in danger in childbirth (due to a badly placed foetus) is abortion allowed. Lipner analyzes reasons why Hindus accorded the unborn such a high status. Reasons used by modern moralists (such as, the foetus has not yet attained human form or demonstrated cerebral activity) to distinguish between human persons (not acceptable to abort) and human beings (acceptable to abort) are not

found or supported in classical Hindu thought. In fact, the classical Hindu view was that the soul (jiva) descends into the union of semen and menstrual blood in the womb and so coincides with conception. Thus no qualitative distinction can be made between conception and a later time at which the embryo is postulated to become a person. Traditional Hindu medical texts emphasize that the jiva, the individual abode of consciousness, is present

from the moment of conception onwards through the process of foetal growth. These texts note no significant break or leap forward in this growth which would lead one to conclude that some qualitative change had taken place equivalent to the distinction suggested by some modern ethicists from human being to human person. The texts Lipner cites to prove the awareness of the foetus in the womb also reflect the impurity of the womb referred to in Coward's discussion of

purity.

Abortion was also unacceptable to the classical Hindu because it interferes with the natural and necessary cycle of karma and rebirth. Abortion is seen as a grave infringement on the working out of an individual's destinyespecially since only during one's life could an individual make decisions which would result in the goal of enlightenment or release (moksa*). By virtue of abortion, a person's chance for the realization of moksa* in this life is being removedthe person's freedom is being taken away. Other reasons militating

against abortion in the Hindu view are the stress on the egg or embryo as the scriptural symbol for life, the felt need to continue one's line

Page 5 through male heirs, the obtaining of security after death through the sraddha * rites performed by the heir, and finally the high status given to ahimsa* or non- injury in Indian society.

In her study of the traditional Hindu view of euthanasia in Chapter 3, Katherine Young observes that, if we were to take today's emergent definition of euthanasia with its technical insistence on medically defined eases of terminal illness and its circumscribed meaning of a doctor actively killing a patient on compassionate grounds, given due process of decision making, then, by definition, we would be hard pressed to find equivalent situations in the past and

in other premodern societies. To facilitate an historical and comparative study, she uses the archaic meaning of euthanasia as "freedom to leave," which permitted the sick and despondent to terminate their lives. Her study illumines how self-willed death in certain situations of old age and disease was found in India throughout much of history until it was eliminated in the early modern period. In comparison, euthanasia, in the sense of freedom to leave, was

rarely found in the West after the Graeco- Roman period, although today its merits are increasingly debated, as withdrawal of treatment becomes a common phenomenon in hospitals and the debate over compassionate murder continues.

Katherine Young's analysis of the Indian sources focuses on the various forms of self-willed death: suicide; heroic, voluntary death; and religious, self- willed death. Suicide, prohibited by the traditional Hindu law books, was self-willed death prompted by passion, depression, or uncontrollable circumstance. Heroic, voluntary death was of three kinds: heroic, self- imposed death by a warrior as a way to avoid calamity, as a substitute for death in battle (which was thought to result in

the attainment of heaven), and as a way to allow peaceful succession to the throne. Closely related to heroic death was religious, self-willed death, which was explicitly viewed as a means to maintain dharma, attain heaven, or achieve liberation; it attracted people beyond the warrior milieu and, over time, became a popular religious practice. In the Hindu context, euthanasia belonged to the category of religious self-willed death. Accordingly, it was never

understood as the mercy killing of one person by another. In Hinduism, therefore, the willpower of the individual to bring about his or her own death was normative for the acceptance of euthanasia.

This Hindu perspective is shown by Young to have evolved dynamically out of the historical interaction of Hinduism with Jainism and Buddhism. In her discussion of self-willed death with reference to euthanasia, Young finds the 8th-6th century B.C.E. a significant period. She argues that the extreme violence, which accompanied the rise of kingdoms, characterized the epoch; to understand why the Vedic ideal of a life of one hundred years ending

in natural death was gradually displaced, it is necessary to

Page 6 postulate that the various forms of heroic and religious self-willed death were alternatives to death in battle by which one attained heaven or were ways to escape violence within society.

Not only does Young develop a new theory of the origins of non-violence in this analysis, she demonstrates how the religions came to terms with the new phenomenon of self-willed death. Jainism was likely the first religion to accept the practice of a religiously motivated, self-willed death; it was called sallekhana * and involved a fast to death. While Buddha tried to avoid acceptance of the heroic, self- willed death so common in Ksatriya*

circles, he did allow self-willed death for the extremely ill person as an act of compassion; that is, he endorsed euthanasia. In Hinduism, Brahmanical willingness to ritualize the withdrawal by the king (and his wife) into the forest as a way of abdicating the throne in old age way may have set the stage for religious self-sacrifice and self- willed death as a way to attain heaven.

From the 6th century B.C.E. to the 10th century C.E., Young compares the Hindu law books (Dharmasastras*) with Buddhist and Jain texts from the same period and finds that, while suicide is thoroughly condemned, heroic death in battle, self- imposed death by one who is enlightened or desires enlightenment, and self-willed death in extreme old age and ill health is increasingly accepted. For example, dignity in old age is safeguarded for the Hindu. When one can no longer perform daily dharmic duties

for oneself, such as bodily purification, euthanasia is then allowed by means such as jumping from a cliff into water or jumping into fire or walking until death occurs. Religious, self- willed death also comes to be accepted in many medieval Buddhist texts, although the method differs, with cutting the throat by the sword being preferred. Here, the sword seems to symbolize the cutting out of desire and ignorance so as to usher in enlightenment.

With legitimation of self-willed death and its promise of heaven or liberation, the religions started to compete in their prescription of an easy means to achieve enlightenment. Hindu texts, for instance, promoted self- willed death at a sacred place, which was understood as a spot to cross over from this world to the next. In Mahayana* Buddhism, the bodhisattva ideal of self- sacrifice, including sacrifice of one's body to help another unfortunate being, led to further popularity of the practice.

Jainism, too, embraced the increasing popularity of self-willed death by extending the practice of sallekhana* from monastics to the laity, particularly in cases of old age and severe disease.

Young's analysis shows, however, that from the tenth century on there was increasing criticism of religious, self-willed death. Such criticism, already prevalent in Hindu circles, was greatly accentuated by the outcry of the Christian missionaries in the 18th and 19th centuries. Young includes in this discussion a very helpful analysis of sati* or the burning of a widow on her husband's funeral

pyre. Young also notes that modern Jains continue to

Page 7 practice sallekhana , the fast to death, and carefully distinguish it from non- religious suicide which is prohibited by the Indian Penal Code. The modern reassessment of euthanasia in India has been led, in fact, by the Jains who argue that in Jainism sallekhana was not abused; on the contrary, it provided a meaningful and dignified death that was in tune with the religious perspective.

Young concludes from her study of euthanasia in Hinduism and, by extension, in other Indian religions that it was extremely difficult to limit euthanasia to certain contexts and to prevent abuse even when there was a strong religious predisposition to live out the natural life span. She suggests that there are two basic approaches regarding the reassessment of euthanasia in India today. One is to see if fasting to death has modern relevance in

today's world where medical technology keeps people alive for longer and longer periods. Ways of relating the traditional Hindu notion of the religious "good death" with the modern notion of the "meaningful death" are examined. The second is to suggest that, on the evidence of past history, Indian law should not legalize euthanasia, even taking into consideration the new definition of euthanasia which insists on medical diagnosis of

terminal disease, due process of decision making, and so forth. These three case studies in Hindu Ethics demonstrate that Indian thought has not ignored deep reflection on problems which are presenting serious challenges to the modern world. They also demonstrate that Hinduism is more than metaphysicsthat it has a firm grounding in ethics even when the most difficult questions are raised. Notes

1. See, for example, the debates of Rammohun Roy (1772-1833) with the Christian missionaries of his day. An overview is offered by James Pankratz, "Rammohun Roy," as Chapter 7 in Religion in Modern India, edited by Robert Baird. New Delhi: Manohar, 1981.

2. P. T. Raju, Structural Depths of Indian Thought. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1985.

3. Ibid., p. xvi.

4. Ibid.

5. Brahmasutrabhasya* Sankara*, 1.1.1, as summarized by Karl Potter in Encyclopedia of Indian Philosophies; Advaita Vedanta* up to Samkara* and His Pupils. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1981, p. 121.

6. Patanjali*, Yoga Sutras* II. 30-32. See translation by J. H. Woods, The Yoga System of Patañjali. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1966.

7. See discussion of Jaimini's Mimamsasutras* by P. T. Raju, Structural Depths of Indian Thought, pp. 40-41.

Page 9 1. Purity in Hinduism: With Particular Reference to Patañjali's Yoga Sutras * HAROLD G. COWARD

There are two widespread pictures of Hindu society in the West. One is of the yogi performing great feats of physical and mental gymnastics, wandering through the world with his begging bowl or sitting motionless in the forest, deep in meditation. The other picture is of the Brahmin priest- scholar at the top of a vast hierarchy of hereditary communities that do not intermarry or even eat together outside the caste. The first picture is supported by the Indian philosophies elaborating various paths that renounce the world and lead to eternal salvation. The second picture has its scriptural support in a different set of sacred texts, the "law books" (Dharmasastras*).1

The first picture is summed up by the word moksa*release from the seemingly endless round of death and rebirth. Release, in this picture, is realized by purifying oneself of the pollution created by one's previous births. The second picture is of the caste system guided by the law books and is also very concerned with keeping pure. Purity, then, is a fundamental dimension of all Hindu experience: that of the

yogi, the renouncer, and that of the worldly householder. In this chapter, we will comment on how purity functions in both Hindu worlds but will end with our focus on the world of the yogi or renouncer, especially as seen in the fundamental yoga text, The Yoga Sutras* of Patanjali *. Throughout the chapter, special attention will be given to the ethical impact of purity practices on Hindu women.

The notion of purity as somehow being closely related to the spiritual has a long history in both the Jewish and Christian traditions. "Cleanliness is next to godliness" was long a motto in the West. Cleanness has a history of being related to holiness. For Christians and Jews to be unclean means to be contaminated by a physical, ritual, or moral impurity.2 This notion of spir-

Page 10 itual purity will provide the Westerner a good beginning point from which to approach Hindu thought and practise and will render understandable even such repulsive behaviour as sati * or widow burning.

In Hindu Brahmanical culture, the Sanskrit term suddha* stands for purity. The meaning of this term in its Hindu usage is best conveyed by invoking images of fullness or completeness in the specific sense of perfection. It refers to the ideal condition of the human body or the most desired state of being. This Hindu notion of purity is effectively summarized as follows:

Suddha* and its opposite asuddha* are attributes of animate beings, inanimate objects and places with which a human being comes into contact in the course of everyday life. For example, a prepubescent unmarried girl (kanya*), water from a holy river, unboiled milk, ghee and a temple are suddha *. On the other hand, contact with certain kinds of human beings (low caste Hindus or non- Hindus), animals (dogs), objects (goods made

of leather), foods (beef or food cooked in impure utensils), substances (discharges from a human body), places (cremation ground), etc. causes Brahmans and other upper caste Hindus to become polluted.3

Degrees of purity are recognized. Gold, for example, is considered more suddha* than copper. Some substances are not only pure in themselves, e.g., water from the Ganges river, but render pure whatever or whosoever comes into contact with them. Thus Ganges water renders the morning bather suddha* and is also carried home for cooking and

drinking so as to purify one's food and digestive tract. The most pure object for the Brahmin is his three- stranded cotton neck-cord that he wears from the time of his ritual initation onwards. Not only is the neck- cord itself suddha*, but when worn it purifies the wearer.

Sauca* is a second Sanskrit term which also means pure. It functions within the broader context of suddha* and relates specifically to ones own personal cleanliness. For instance Yoga Sutra* 2.40 describes sauca* in relation to the cleanliness of one's own body. As the most impure (asauca*) substances are the discharges of one's own body. Women, since they have more discharges (e.g., menstruation) than men, are seen as being

necessarily more impure. Only in later life, after the menopause, can a woman be seen to approach the standard of sauca* or purity of a man.

A third Sanskrit term with which we shall have to deal is sattva. Sattva is crucial to the Brahmanical sense of superior purity. As we shall see, sattva is metaphysically conceived as the pure quality or strand in material nature (prakrti*) and is the ideal towards which all purifying practises are directed. Thus it is said that a saintly person is very sattvic in quality. The concern of the yogi or the philosopher is usually with the attainment of a spiritual

Page 11 discipline which will so purify one's life as to realize a virtually completely sattvic state. It is in such a state, free of pollutions of various kinds, that moksa * or release is realized.

The concern of the Brahmin or Hindu priest and the householder is with a combination of purity and auspiciousness (subha*). Just as purity and impurity (suddha* and asuddha*) is one crucial axis of Hindu life, it is bisected by another equally important axis of auspiciousness and inauspiciousness (subha* and asubha*). Thus, the situation of the Hindu layperson is most complex. Subha* is related to the time at which an event takes place. Subha* or auspiciousness is a very complex notion and cannot be examined in detail here.4 However, the instance of

childbirth will provide a good example as to how the pure- impure axis intersects with the auspicious- inauspicious axis. Childbirth is auspicious (subha*) if it occurs under the right circumstances defined by the qualities of time, space, and the persons involved, especially the child and the mother. But even if all the circumstances relating to auspiciousness are favourable, the act of childbirth itself, involving as it does the discharge of bodily fluids, renders the mother impure (asauca*). The baby is also impure. But this impurity pales into

insignificance in the light of the joy of the auspicious character of childbirth, particularly the birth of a son, which is duly celebrated through ritual performance and social ceremonies during the following eleven days, culminating in the ritual of purification. The life of the Hindu householder is rendered most complex by the constant crossing of the purity and auspiciousness axes. It is no wonder, then, that the counsel of a carefully trained priest (Brahmin) is needed to deal successfully with these subtle complexities. A marriage, for example, is a very positive

event in that both auspiciousness and purity are judged to be present. By contrast, death is an event involving both pollution and inauspiciousness. But even then some deaths are more inauspicious than others. For example, from the perspective of a wife, it would be much more auspicious if she died being survived by a husband and son. It is very inauspicious for a wife to have her husband die before her, especially if she has no son. To that is added a significant problem of pollution if her husband dies before she has reached the menopause. Thus the terrible

prospect of being a young widow in Hinduismwhich may have led some to find sati* (burning to death with the body of one's late husband) preferable to the living of a continually polluted and inauspicious life.

It is the purity side of this complex interrelation of suddha* and subha* in Hindu life that will be the emphasis of this chapter. And within the purity dimension, more attention will be given to the purity of the yogi or renouncer than the purity of the householder. Early evidence regarding purity will be sampled in the Harappa* culture as well as in the Vedas, Epics, and Laws of Manu. A survey will be made of

purity in worldly life; however, this

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chapter will focus on the way in which these early ideas are systematized in the guna * theory of Patanjali's* Yoga Sutras* The three gunas* (tamas, rajas, and sattva) are described in the Yoga Sutras* as having increasing qualities of purity.5 The purpose of the yoga discipline, outlined by Patanjali*, is to purify the tamas and rajas from one's material nature (prakrti*) until one becomes virtually pure sattva. In the Yoga Sutra* analysis, saliva and bodily discharges are seen as polluting in

nature (tamasic), and thus the purified yogi shrinks from contact with such substanceseven when they are produced by one's own body.6 Menstruation is seen as* very tamasic, very polluting. All of this, as will be shown, established a basis for the logical development of a strong negative attitude towards women and towards persons who do not make an effort to practice cleanliness, and are thus empirically seen to be of lower quality (lower caste). Further exemplification

of Patañjali's position will be found in the disciplines followed by Gorakhnath* and his followers, the Kanphata* Yogis, during the medieveal period. Some implications (e.g., sati*) for women of the classical Hindu view of purity will be explored. Finally, the clash between the classical view of purity and the negative attitude it established against women and the lower castes will be examined against the background of the equality prescribed by the new Constitution of India.

While this chapter focuses upon the negative value given to the body and its excretions, it must be noted that Hindu thought also includes opposing trends, which place high value upon the body and its fluids. The ambiguous character of bodily fluids in Indian thought will be given some discussion later in the chapter. In the first section

Katherine Young's historical discussion of "Women in Hinduism" will provide the overview for my more focused study of purity and impurity in the lives of women. I. Ancient Indian Ideas about Purity and the Body

In India, some of the most ancient archeological evidence comes from the Harappa* city culture on the Indus river 3d to 2d millennium B.C.E.). Cities were fully planned, including sewerage systems. "The houses had bathrooms, the design of which shows that the Harappan, like the modern Indian, preferred to take his bath standing, by pouring pitchers of water over his head."7 These bathrooms were

connected to sewers under the main street which led to soak pits. Of the public buildings, especially in the city Mohenjo Daro, one of the most notable is an oblong bathing pool, thirty-nine by twenty- three feet in area and eight feet deep, constructed of beautiful brickwork. The pool was surrounded by a cloister onto which opened a number of rooms. Basham speculates that, like the bathing pool of a Hindu temple, the Harappa* pool

probably had a religious purpose. He concludes, "The special attention paid by the people of the Harappa* culture to clean-

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liness is hardly due to the fact that they had notions of hygiene in advance of those of other civilizations of their time, but indicates that, like the latter Hindus, they had a strong belief in the purificatory effects of water from a ritual point of view. 8 Since we still cannot with certainty read the Indus script, we are unable to relate this emphasis on ritual purification to the way in which

the Harappa* culture viewed the body and its secretions.

Turning to the texts of the Hindus, the most ancient Vedas (1500-500 B.C.E.) give no evidence of a developed dualism of the sort found in the later philosophical speculationsespecially those of the Sankhya* school where the body is identified with the polluted matter that must be purified. Following Young's analysis in "Women in Hinduism" it may be argued that in the Vedic period, there seems to have been a very positive value given to the woman.9 Religion was centered in the home and family. A partnership between husband and wife was seen as necessary for the maintenance of order (rta*). This is exemplified in the marriage ceremony described in Rg* Veda 10.58 ff. The bride is described as jaya* (a sharer of the husband's affections), jani* (the mother of children), and patni*

(the partner in the performance of the rituals or yajna*).10 The presence of the wife as well as the husband was required for the performance of religious rituals. The partnership of husband and wife provided the context for the fulfillment of earthly life and the atainment of immortality. In addition to the necessary presence of the wife for the performance of Rg* Vedic rituals, there is also evidence that the singing of hymns (Sama* Veda) was done by women specially trained in music.11 Thus, according to Young the Rg* Vedic view was life affirming and family oriented. In it, women had a deep and positive identification with religion. In it, too, the woman as virgin, wife, and mother was deen as pure and auspicious. Indeed, much of the positive self-image of women

in India may be traced back to this period. Although no traces of the later Sankhya* doctrine are found in the most ancient Vedic texts, there are beginning speculations which may have prepared the way for the eventual formulation of Sankhya* thought. In this regard, special mention may be made of those mythological and cosmological passages emphasizing order and chaos, sat and asat.12

Turning once again to Young's analysis, we find that in the period of the Brahmanas*, education shifts from the family home to the home of a specialized teacher. Such teachers had become necessary due to the increasing numbers of hymns and specialization of the ritual. Rather than a simple Vedic ritual done by husband and wife together, the ritual became so complex and complicated that one had to undergo long training to acquire the necessary expertise. In

general, it seems that sons, not daughters, went to live with a teacher for this period of extensive study. The Taittiriya* Samhita* VI.3.10.5 says that every Brahmin male had three debts to pay during his

Page 14

life: to repay his debt to the sages, he must live and study with a teacher; to repay his debt to the gods, he must sacrifice; and for the debt to his ancestors, he must produce children, especially sons. Daughters remained at home where they received a brief education but were mainly trained by their mothers for domestic activity. They married older, more mature men who had completed

studies with a teacher. Young argues that, the gap between the sexes widened, with women being reduced to being silent partners in ritual activities because they did not have the necessary education. It appears that at the same time the polarity of the pure (sauca ) and the impure (asauca) became popular as a religious category with women increasingly being viewed as impure, especially at times of menstruation

and pregnancy. Because of their lack of knowledge, women (even Brahmin women) were judged asamskrta* or uncultured and avaidika or unlearned. This meant that they were not allowed to go to the assembly, that they must take food after their husbands, that they were powerless, and, indeed, that they were like the Sudras* who represented the extreme of being uncultured. Chastity and purity in

women came to function as a substitute for the education the men were receiving. As a result, women, although honored for their chastity and purity along with their fertility in producing sons, were at the same time seen as uncultured and unlearned. The positive value of purity was challenged by the greater impurity being ascribed to women at times of menstruation and pregnancy.

When we turn to the later Upanisads*, clear evidence is found of the beginnings of systematic Sankhya* formulation, as well as the negative evaluation of the body and its excretions. It is quite likely that this latter emphasis received at least some stimulus from the very negative Jaina evaluation of the body and its excretions as dark karma which weighs down the self and thus must

be purged for the self to obtain release.13

It is in the Katha* Upanisad* that one encounters the first clear outlines of Sankhya* dualistic ideas. In the Katha*, Larsen finds both the old Upanisadic notion of the Self (atman*) together with the beginning of the Sankhya* notion of an individual self (purusa*).14 Using the metaphor of the chariot, the Katha* clearly paves the way for a dualistic analysis of human

nature by identifying the Self and its intelligence with the charioteer, while the material nature (mind, sense organs, and objects of the senses) is identified with the chariot and its horses. 15 The Upanisad* also makes clear that it is the side of the senses and their experiences that must be disciplined and controlled if release is to be achieved.16 Thus the Katha*, like the Jainas,

suggests that it is the material side of our nature that needs to be purified. In the Maitri* and other later Upanisads* one finds mention of five of the eight angas* of later classical Yoga; (pranayama* or control of breathing; pratyahara* of control of the senses; dhyana*, dharana* and samadhi* or increasing degrees

Page 15 of control of the mind). 17 But perhaps of most importance for our analysis of developing ideas relating to purity is Maitri's* vivid description of the body as a loathsome conglomerate.

The body arises from sexual intercourse. It is endowed with growth in darkness [of the womb]. Then it comes forth through the urinary passage. It is built up with bones, smeared over with flesh, covered with skin, filled with faeces, urine, bile, phlegm, marrow, fat, grease and also with many diseases like a treasure house full of wealth.18

After this graphic portrait of the polluted nature of the body, the very next verse of the Maitri* sets forth descriptions of tamas and rajas, the qualities that Sankhya* and Yoga thought identify as requiring purification.

Now, it has elsewhere been said: 'The characteristics of the Dark Quality (tamas) are delusion, fear, despondency, sleepiness, weariness, heedlessness, old age, sorrow, hunger, thirst, wretchedness, anger, atheism (nastikya*), ignorance, jealousy, cruelty, stupidity, shamelessness, religious neglect, pride, unequableness.

The characteristics of the Passionate Quality (rajas), on the other hand, are inner thirst, affection, emotion, covetousness, maliciousness, lust, hatred, secretiveness, envy, insatiability, unsteadfastness, fickleness, distractedness, ambitiousness, acquisitiveness, favoritism towards friends, dependence upon surroundings, hatred in regard to unpleasant objects of sense, overfondness in regard to pleasant objects, sourness of utterance, gluttonousness. 19 . .1

The Maitri* goes on to add that sattva or purity comes from the practice of austerity (tapas). This again accords with the Jaina view that the way to purge the heavy tamasic and rajasic karma from one's self is to starve and burn it out through tapas. Another verse quoted in the

Maitri* identifies impurity with desire.

The mind is said to be twofold: The pure and also the impure Impureby union with desire; Purefrom desire completely free!20

In the Maitri*, as in Sankhya*, woman sometimes as harlot, is used to symbolize impure desire.21 And it is equally clear that it is through the practice of purity that release or liberation is achieved: "One should be in a pure place, himself pure (suci*), abiding in pureness (sattva), studying the Real (sat). . ."22

The writers of the Upanisads* developed an ascetic emphasis. This

Page 16

ascetic thrust polarized desire (kama ) over and against control (yoga). For the ascetic woman often came to symbolize desire, the obstacle to release (moksa). Woman represented sexuality, reproduction, the family, and all of those things that from the ascetic viewpoint functioned as obstacles to release. All of this was mythologically portrayed in stories of celestial nymphs who attempted to seduce ascetics and was sociologically expressed in the ascetics'

denial of martial life and concern to retain semen as a source of yogic power.23

Let us now turn to Young's analysis of women according to the smrti* texts, a vast category of Hindu Sanskrit scripture whose authority is, in theory, secondary to the sruti* texts of the Vedas.24 Smrti* includes the great epic poems such as the Mahabharata* and the Ramayana*, the Puranas*, Tantras, and codes of proper behaviour (the Dharmasutra* and Dharmasastra*). Woman in these texts are seen as living their

lives for the sake of husbands and their children. As a result of being excluded from education during the period of the Brahmanas*, women were often rebirth oriented. They were reduced to seeking the spiritual through their husbands, who had knowledge and knew the rituals. Indeed, Hindu women seem to have viewed their husbands as gods or, at least, as channels to the Divine. This tendency, according to Young helps us account for the Hindu

woman's ideal of devotion to her husband.25 According to Young, a woman's devotion to her husband included her offering of well-cooked food, her aesthetics of pleasure, and her production of children. This self-sacrifice of a woman for her husband was understood as a religious offering like that given to the gods. This allowed a woman to spiritualize the mundane aspects of her life.26 Sometimes a woman would make a special vow (vrata) between herself and a

god. In such a vow, the woman would voluntarily deny something to herself (e.g., food) in exchange for some favour from the god for her husband (e.g., good health). Through such techniques as vows, women appropriated yogic principles of self-denial into the family setting. The purpose of yogic self- denial of a woman was not direct union with the Divine, as was the case with male yogis, but union with her husband understood as God. In this way, the ascetic ideals

of yoga were integrated into the domestic religion of Hindu women. Young exemplifies this discussion in the portrayal of Sita*, the heroine, in the epic poem, the Ramayana*, with its emphasis on her loyalty, chastity, humility, and strength which arose out of her self- sacrifice (tapas) for her husband Rama *. 27 The gist of the story is as follows:

Rama*, the oldest son and heir to the throne, is banished to the forest as a result of King Dasaratha's* fulfillment of a boon to his second wife that her son Bharata be king. Sita* follows her husband Rama* to the forest and

Page 17

endures the hardships of forest life. Sita * is abducted by the demon king, Ravana*, and is imprisioned by him on the island of Lanka* until she is rescued by Rama . When her fidelity is doubted by the citizens, Rama, in accordance with sacred law, repudiates her. Sita* proves her chastity by a fire ordeal. After Rama* and Sita* are reunited, they return to Ayodhya *. Bharata

renounces the throne and Rama* becomes king.28

Sita* is seen by Hindu women as embodying the feminine ideal. This ideal involved much self- sacrifice. When Sita* insisted that she accompany Rama* to the forest, she argued that a woman's place was with her husband, that a wife shared her husband's fortunes and karma, that the shade of his feet was greater than all palaces, and furthermore, that she had trained her mind for the hardships of the forest. Her mother- in-law

praised this decision as showing that Sita* had overcome the fickleness and weakness of women and that Sita* would aid the spiritual welfare of Rama . The Epic shows Sita resorting to austerities, such as VOWS (vratas) and fasting, so as to gain the spirtual strength needed to overcome the obstacles before her. The example of Sita* showed how the Hindu woman, even though reduced to a

role of having to approach the Divine through her husband, could still be a pillar of strength in the family.

Turning from Young's discussion of feminine ideals in the Ramayana*, let us sample the Mahabharata* and the Laws of Manu for ideas relating to purity and the body. In the Mahabharata*, a son is a man's own body, while a daughter is bitterest woe.29 Daughters can attain happiness in heaven only through their sons. A young girl is portrayed as filled with shame on experiencing her first menstrual flow.30 The Laws of Manu strongly reinforce this negative view of

menstruation. According to Manu, a menstruating woman is unclean and her presence leaves a noxious stain.31 The Mahabharata* XIII. 127.13 even suggests that, should a menstruating woman look at an object, the gods will not take it in sacrifice. Nor can she be in the neighbourhood of the ancestral offering or the forefathers will be unappeased for thirteen years. If a menstruating woman looks at some food, it is unclean and fit only for the demons32 This uncleanness associated

with the uterus is carried over into the process of conception. According to the Mahabharata* XII.213.3ff conception is brought about by seed and blood, is moist with excrement and water, and fouled with the products of blood. These are the constituents of the web of samsara* or rebirth which desire and the bodies of women spin out. Indeed the very term rajas seems to be used in the Epic both for menstrual blood and for desire.33 The act of intercourse itself is also described by

the Mahabharata* as unclean.34 Not surprisingly, the sojourn in the mother's womb is seen as nauseating and gruesome and is described in Mahabharata* XII.215.7 as hell's pit (narakagarta). In a more general way, the Bhagavad- Gita* teaches that freedom (mok-

Page 18 sa ) required release from the sway of the three gunas, sattva included. This is to be achieved by yoga.35 In The Laws of Manu the gunas* are given general descriptions: sattva has the form of knowledge; rajas of love and hatred and ever draws one toward sensual objects; and tamas as darkness, ignorance, delusion, covetousness, and unclean habits.36

With this sampling of the smrti* texts in regard to purity, the body and women, let us look at Young's summary of the female life cycle from the classical Hindu perspective.37 Maidenhood, while portrayed by the Sanskrit poets in terms of innocence, charm, and romantic love, was also marked by an obsessive concern on the part of parents to protect the purity of their daughters. Chaste daughters have a very

high status in Hindu families and even today (for example during the festival of Durga* Puja*) are worshipped as the virgin goddess. This stress on chastity led parents to arrange the marriage of their daughters as early as possible. The tendancy toward early marriage was further fostered by the lack of any education for girls. Pushing the marriage forward to the time of puberty or before absolved parents of the responsibility

for protecting the girl's chastity. Once married the girl moved in with her husband's family. There she was looked on as a temptress until she bore her first child, preferably a son. Then she was seen as being both safe and auspicious. Over the years, a wife's status increased as long as she had borne at least one son by the time of menopause, when she became asexual like the ascetic. The menopausal woman whose

husband had not yet died is judged to have enjoyed the greatest degree of domestic, social, and spiritual freedom of any Hindu woman.38

From a woman's perspective, it was auspicious to be survived by one's husband and son or sons. According to Hejib and Young to die before one's husband was not auspicious. 39 It left open two options: to perform sati* (self- immolation on the funeral pyre of one's husband) or, more commonly, to pass on into widowhood. Whereas sati* was given a high evaluation (sati* literally means "good woman"), the widow or vidhava* (literally, the one whose husband is

dead) was considered not only unfortunate but also inauspicious, especially if she had not yet reached the menopause. Since men were often older than their wives, due to the reasons discussed earlier, this was not infrequently the case. Then, the family not only had an unauspicious widow on its hands but also one who each month produced impurity of a sort that should have been contained and controlled within the context of a living

marriage. In addition, the widow herself felt guilty for having failed to ensure the longevity and health of her husband through her vows, sacrifices, and worship (bhakti). In this sense, her yoga had been unsuccessful in that her husband had died before her. But, given the presupposition of rebirth, the widow could look forward to reunion with her husband in the next life. So, to purify herself of bad karma, which had caused her husband's death,

Page 19

and to produce good karma for the next life, the widow spent the remainder of her life in the practice of austerities or tapas. She became a female ascetic practising chastity in speech, mind, and deed. She had no possessions (aparigraha). She became without desire (niskama *). She developed endurance and finally developed indifference to all the pairs of opposites (e.g., hot and cold, pleasure and pain, and so

on) which characterize our lives. This tapas of the widow so purified her that she emerged from her trials serene, radiating benevolence, and eliciting a response of unspoken admiration. Her death was viewed positively as the moment of reunion of husband and wife. The act of sati* can also be seen as being directly predicated on the purity ideal. The Vedic basis of sati* as purifying fire is described as follows:

Sati* is a sacrifice by fire. In the Vedas, Agni, the god of fire, is said to transfer the substance of the sacrifice and convey this ethereal smoke to the realm of the gods, where it is imbibed by the sense of smell. In later developments of Brahmanism, a purificatory power was attributed to fire, which is important in the rite of sati *. 40

In the Hindu view, all death results in pollution for the members of the dead person's family. If there is a widow, this death pollution is focused on her and is removed from the human world by her immolation. For the sati* to be fully efficacious in removing impurity, it was important that the widow be in as pure a state as possible. Thus there were strict injuctions against sati* by widows who were menstruating or in a state

of birth pollution, for, in these cases, the pollution level of the widow was already such that it would not allow the death pollution to be reduced.41 Also, before sati*, the woman's purity was accentuated by a ritual bathing and dressing in new clothes.

According to Hejb and Young when the sati* state is compared with that of the widow, many similarities emerge. The sati* engages in a controlled, yoga-like act in entering the fire. In the act of sati*, she not only burned away her own bad karma but also the pollution surrounding the death of her husband. Thus, she purified herself and her family and produced good karma for the next life. Her equanimity at the moment of

sati* revealed her yogic attainment.42 Her act was said to radiate benevolence, not only on the family and those present, but on generations to come. Thus, both the sati* and the widow perform tapas which purifies the pollution of the husband's death and the wife's bad karma. The woman choosing sati* is more auspicious because she instantly reunites herself with her husband. The widow, thinking more of herself, has

to use the rest of her own life to put herself back into the state of purity required of being a good wife (sati*). In addition, the act of sati* ensured that the couple would be reunited in heaven, while widowhood left open the destination to earth, heaven or hell. Thus, according to Hejib and Young, while the result of sati* was clear, ambiguity tormented the widow.43

Page 20

Regardless of how they lived or died, one impurity that was inescapable throughout life for the Hindu woman was the pollution of menstruation. Menstruation seems to be regarded as more than a simple physical pollution. In India, menstrual blood has been closely linked with notions of conception. In many texts, there are injunctions to the effect that monthly periods must not be misused that a women's menstruation must be transformed

into a fertile result. 44 Some Indian women believe that after ten months of blood is collected, a child is born.45 Thus fathers who do not provide husbands for their postpubertal daughters are held to commit embryo murder at each menstruation. Husbands also have a duty to have intercourse with their wives at the proper time so that the blood will be used in child production and not issue as menstruation.46 On the other hand some

texts reflect the view of many Hindu women that menstruation is a purifying process. One text says, "Women possess an unrivaled means of purification; they never become entirely foul. For month by month their temporary uncleanness removes their sins."47 The dominant Hindu view, however, is that menstruation is a pollution.

In the Classical Brahmanical Hindu view, women are assessed and given value in terms of purity. In worldly life, women are seen as existing on a continuum from the most pure as being a prepubertal virgin to the most impure as being a menstruating widow.48 Since almost the whole of a woman's life seems to caught up in tamas or pollution, it is perhaps not surprising that Brahmanical society felt that the desired condition of purity could

only be achieved by the imposition of rigorous controls. There is also the concern that the purity of women be maintained to raise the status of their men.49

The above discussion has focused on the worldly life picture of Hinduism in which dharma is the goal and purity is the means. The pure is noumenal and is symbolised in the sadhu or renouncer. The impure is inextricably involved in the cycle of life and death, especially in the case of women. In this impure world, the role of the priest or Brahmin is to help his client maintain or enhance purity. Thus the Brahmin is the exemplar of purity in the world of the nonrenouncers and, as such, sits atop a

social hierarchy based on relative purity. As we have seen, this has had a doubly unfortunate effect on the lives of Hindu women. On the one hand it has led to the perception that during menstruation, childbirth, and widowhood they are a major source of pollution, comparable perhaps with that associated with untouchables.50 In this light, women are seen as of low spiritual value and little social worth. On the other hand, paradoxically, women are also held up

as symbols of purity and spiritual power (e.g., Sita* of the Ramayana*). Such women reflect honour upon their menfolk. In a sense, they combine the worship of a pure virgin with that of the reproductive mother. Sita* was both chaste (and thus pure) and the mother of sons. "Just as purity, virginity and chastity are valued in conformity with caste mores, so

Page 21

too are fertility and maternity valued in conformity with joint family and lineage ideology." 51 For the life-affirming Hindu family, women are a positive and necessary link in the artha (acquisition of wealth) chain. Over and against the seeing of women in terms of impurity and chastity, this perspective sees woman as sakti*, as symbolizing divine creative power. Hinduism has developed the idea of divine motherhood into the idea of cosmic energy (sakti*) which can be creative, sustaining, or destructive in form. The most developed forms of mother- goddess worship are found among

those Hindus who put wordly values to the forefronttypically the Ksatriya*, Vaisya*, and landowning Sudra . "Sakti represents the divine energy in the phenomenal universe, and hence is the chief focus of cult activity on the part of those with materialistic (artha) rather than other- worldly (moksa*) or purity (dharma) goals.52 However, this categorization does not always hold. Sakti*, female power, is experienced by many Hindus as a means not only to material wealth (artha) but also as a way of liberation (moksa*). Sometimes in the worship of sakti*, normal

purity and pollution values are turned upside downas, for example, when sexual intercourse becomes a Tantric practise by which moksa* may be realized. In bhakti devotionalism, the sexual relationship between lover and beloved is related to the submissive but passionate relationship between the devotee and the Lord, and is thus transmutted into religious ecstasy and release (moksa*).53

Although it is important to note the complex variation in the positive valuations given to sexuality and to women, let us now return to the main analysis of this chapter, namely, the function of purity in Hindu Brahmanical culture. Having surveyed the role of purity and its effect upon women in the worldly or materialistic practise of Hinduism, let us now turn to a detailed examination of purity in that other

picture of Hinduismthe picture of the Hindu as the yogi or renouncer. As a method for focusing on the yogi, we will begin by examining ideas relating to purity found in the Yoga Sutras* of Patañjali.54 II. Purity in the Guna* Theory of Patañjali's Yoga Sutras

Patañjali takes the above ideas of the impure nature of the human body, and especially of the womb, and uses them to highlight the nature of human ignorance (avidya*). In Yoga Sutra* II.5 Patañjali states, avidya* is the taking of the impure and highly repulsive body to be pure and attractive. To convince us of the fact that this body (especially of a beautiful, perfumed girl) which seems to us so pure is really full of impurity, Vyasa* in his "commentary"

quotes many of the ideas we have encountered earlier:

Because of its first abode and because of its origin and because of its sustenance and because of its exudations and because of its decease and

Page 22

because it needs constant cleaning, the learned recognize that the body is impure. 55 By way of elucidation, Vacaspati Misra* adds:

The abode is the mother's womb polluted by such things as urine; the seed is the mother's blood and the father's semen. The sustenance is formation into juices of the food eaten and drunk; for by it the body is held together. Exudation is sweat. And death defiles the body of even a scholarly man. Inasmuch as a bath is required after his dead body

is touched.56

The body is thus seen as impure in its conception, birth, life, and death. Forgetting about the perfumed girl dominated by desire, even the body of a scholarly man is impure. So for the Yoga Sutras*, any body and all its secretions and excretions are thoroughly impure, although in our ignorant infatuation we take such a body to be pure and even beautiful.

Before going on to explain how to deal with this entrapping impurity, Patañjali offers a sophisticated theoretical explanation as to the nature and cause of the impurity. Patañjali, following the Sankhya* theory,57 conceives of consciousness as composed of three aspects of substantive qualities (gunas*): sattva (brightness, illumination, intelligence), rajas (emotion, activity), and tamas (dullness, inertia). Although each of these gunas* keeps its own

separate identity, no individual guna* ever exists independently. Rather, the three gunas* are always necessarily found together like three strands of a rope. However, the proportionate composition of consciousness assigned to each of the gunas* is constantly changing.58 Only the predominate guna* will be easily recognized in a particular thought, perception, or material structure. The other two gunas* will be present but subordinate, and therefore their presence will have to be

determined by inference. If a psychological cross section were taken through an ordinary state of consciousness, there would be a dominance of tamas and rajas especially in its evolved forms of ego, sense organs, and their everyday experiences. In our routine states of consciousness and bodily experience, there is a noticeable lack of sattva or pure discriminative awareness. It is for this reason that we habitually make the error described in Yoga Sutra* II.5 of taking the impure

body to be pure. In guna* terms, the body is dominated by tamas and rajas. Only when our sense organs and mental states (citta vrittis) are purified of domination by the passion and desire of rajas are they pure enough to allow us to see the body for the impure thing it is. According to Patañjali, it is by following the practices set forth in the Yoga Sutra* that the proportionate composition of the mental states is reversed with sattva becoming dominant over rajas. At its height, a pure sattva

experience would be like the direct transparent viewing of reality with no emotional (rajas) or bodily (tamas)

Page 23 distortion intervening. This is technically termed nirvicarasamadhi * and is defined as a supernormal perception that transcends the ordinary categories of time, space, and causality and has the capacity to directly "grasp" or "see" the real nature of things.59 It is this pure sattva intuition which is given detailed analysis in Sutras* 1.41-51 of the Yoga Sutras* that provides the criterion for purity against which the ordinary body is judged to be impure.

The purpose behind the evolving nature of the gunas*, and the desire of the Yoga Sutras* for their increasing purification, is to enable the True Self (purusa*) to be seen. Ordinarily we take our body and its desires to be the locus of our True Self. But the experience of Patañjali and the other great yogis is that the taking of the body with its dominating tamas and rajas constituents to be the locus of the True Self is an error. Only when the impure tamas and rajas are purged through the practice of the yoga disciplines (the

yogangas*) do the body and the mental states become sufficiently transparent (sattva) to enable one to experience one's True Self as purusa* (inner spirit), rather than as the material states of one's mind and body (prakrti*)60 To use the analogy of the light bulb and lampshade, purusa*, the True Self, is like a pure shining light (with its own power source) within each of us, while prakrti*, the body, sense organs, and mental states (composed of the three gunas*), is like the lampshade. When prakrti* (the lampshade) is

purified of darkness (tamas) and passionate activity (rajas), it becomes transparent (sattva), and we discover ourselves to be not a passionate body and mind but a purusa* of pure intelligent consciousness. Lest the puritan attitude and practice of Patañjali's Yoga be misunderstood, it is important to keep in mind that it is this ultimate purpose of release from ignorance into true self- knowledge (the Yoga parallel to salvation) that drives the desire for the purification of body and

mind.

Aside from the above description of the nature of the impurity in terms of the three gunas*, the cause of the impurity is given further analysis in Yoga Sutra* II.15 in terms of the action of karma. Karma is described by Patañjali as a memory trace recorded in the unconscious by any action or thought a person has done. The Westerner should especially note that, for Yoga, a thought is as real as an actionin fact, in the Yoga view, we think first and then act, and thought

therefore is of primary psychological importance. The karmic memory trace (samskara*) remains in the unconscious as a predisposition towards doing the same action or thought again in the future. All that is required is that the appropriate set of circumstances present themselves, and the karmic memory trace, like a seed that has been watered and given warmth, bursts forth as an impulsion toward the same kind of action or

thought from which it originated. If one, through the exercise of free choice, chooses to act on the impulse and do the same action or thought again, then that karmic seed is allowed to flower, resulting in a reinforcing of the memo-

Page 24

ry trace within the unconscious. Sufficient repetitions of the same action or thought produce a strengthening of the predisposition (samskara *) and the establishing of a habit pattern or vasana . Such a karmic habit pattern or vasana is the Yoga equivalent for the modern psychological notion of motivation.61 The unconscious, in yoga terminology, is nothing more than the sum total of all stored up karmic traces from the thoughts and actions done in this and

previous lives. Bad karmic habits, such as not bathing, not washing and preparing food properly, giving in to base and materialistic desires, and the ego pursuit of one's own fame and fortune, all serve to colour one's lampshade with darker hues so that the true self (purusa*) is not seen. In the yoga view, the ordinary experience of all of us is to take our true nature to be our body and mind dominated by the darker karma of our desiresdesires predisposed

by our desiring in past lives. It is this lampshade of dark karma that prevents us from seeing the lightbulb of our pure purusa* within and that causes us to mistakenly think of our impure bodies and minds as pure.

The "Commentary" on Yoga Sutra* II.15 describes all of this in vivid detail. In every experience of pleasure, the mind and the body are permeated with passion (rajas) leaving behind a latent deposit of karma. Pain also causes a passionate response and similarly leaves behind a latent deposit of karma. A further and more subtle kind of karma is the frustration that results from the cessation of a pleasurable experiencewe are always left wanting more of food,

drink, sex, material possessions, and so forth. Thus, even our experiences of mental and bodily pleasure, on analysis, are seen to predispose us to future similar acts and necessarily to end in painful frustration. This is the beginningless stream of our ordinary experience, which causes the impurity of mind and body and blocks our true perception of the pure purusa *. While being immersed in all of this impurity does not bother the average person, to the

one who has begun to purify mind and body through the practice of yoga and who has begun to see these karmic impulses (samskaras*) for what they are, such samskaras* are felt by the yogi to be as painful as if they were a wool thread being pulled across the eyeball. It is precisely this extreme sensitivity that causes the yogi to withdraw from contact with anything representing the heavier karma which causes this pain, e.g., impure food, unwashed bodies, the bodies and

minds of those whose habits are marked by rajasic and tamasic karma, and finally to shrink from contact even from one's own body. This condition is the basic prerequisite requirement for beginning the practice of yoga. It is nicely summarized in the Comment on Yoga Sutra* II.1:

Yoga is not attained by one not given to purificatory action. Impurity is variegated by the eternal in- dwelling of the aroma of action and affliction [the unconscious karmic impulses, vasanas*1, and is ever in contact with the network of enjoyables. It cannot be dispersed without purificatory action (tapas).62

Page 25 Vyasa * goes on to add that, in addition to purifactory action, study or the repeated utterance of purifying words like AUM and making Isvara* the motive of all ones actions are to be practiced by the yogi. Let us now examine these prescriptions for purifying the mind and body in more detail.

Saucha* or cleanliness is one of the angas* or means to yoga by which impurity can be removed and discriminative awareness of purusa* realized. Vyasa* in his Commentary on Yoga Sutra* II.32 defines saucha* as cleanliness of two kinds: external and internal. External cleanliness involves washing of the body by earth and water. External cleanliness also includes the eating of pure food, properly washed and prepared. Tradition

adds that, to be pure, food must not contain meat, fish, or eggs and must not be touched by saliva or by the left hand (used to perform ablutions).63 To these requirements the Hatha Yogis add various practices designed to clean the digestive tract, e.g., fasting, passing a strip of cloth into the stomach, and sitting in a tub of water to give oneself an enema.64 Internal cleanliness involves the washing of impure thoughts such as arrogance, pride and

jealousy from the mind. The test for mastery of cleanliness is most revealing for the point being made in this study. In Yoga Sutra* II.40 Patañjali states, "As a result of cleanliness there is disgust at one's own body and no intercourse with others."65 The practice of purity of body and mind leads the yogi to be disgusted and shrink from contact, not only with the bodies of others, but even from his own body and its excretions. Vyasa* comments:

As soon as there is disgust with his own body, he [the yogi] has begun cleanliness. Seeing the offensiveness of the body, he is no longer attached to the body and becomes an ascetic (yati). Moreover there is no intercourse with others. Perceiving the true nature of the body, even after he has washed it with earth and water and other substances, not seeing any purity in the body, how could he have intercourse with the bodies of

others absolutely unhallowed as they are? 66

In terms of the guna* theory, this means that the body is composed of karmic impurities of the nature of rajas and tamas. To be clean (sattvic) requires ultimately that one get rid of one's body and impure thoughts. Implied in the text is that the further one departs from the relatively pure practice and body of the yogi, the more revolting (tamasic) the bodies of others become. There is even the

implication that these darker qualities can rub off from the body and mind of another onto oneself. Thus all contact with others is to be avoided, especially with those who are not even trying to be cleanthose who eat meat, don't wash properly, indulge in sexual intercourse, and engage in uncouth activity not only in this life but also in previous lives. The most likely candidates for this latter

group in Indian society are of course the lower castes and classes. The yogi, like the Brahmin, is one who has worked hard at purifying body and mind not only in this life but likely also in

Page 26 previous lives. It is simply not good either for the individual's spiritual progress or the well- being of society to lose such purity by contact with those who, due to their own free choice (after all according to Patañjali's theory they created their own karma), are more impure. As Arjuna puts it (speaking in another context):

The mixing of caste leads to hell,[the hell] prepared for those who wreck the family and for the family [so wrecked]. So too their ancestors fall down [to hell], cheated of their offerings of food and drink. 67

All of this provides an excellent basis for the development of a negative attitude toward others of a lower karmic level than oneselfthose not practising yoga, people of lower castes, and cetainly people who live outside of the caste structure, the untouchables. This negative attitude is not based on any dislike for others. In Patañjali's view, it is simply a recognition of the fact that to achieve release from rebirth (samsara*) one must become sattvic in

body and mind. That, in turn, requires the avoidance of contact with others, especially those grossly impure, and eventually even with one's own body. From this perspective, women at all levels of caste purity are more repulsive than men because their bodies produce more polluting excretions, i.e., menstruation. As we have already noted in discussion of Yoga Sutra* II.5, the symbol of impurity given the text is a woman's body and particularly

her womb.

In addition to the practice of internal and external cleanliness, the Yoga Sutra* II.32 also requires tapas. Although virtually untranslatable, tapas is the yogic practice of forcefully exposing oneself to physical suffering in the face of the pairs of opposities (dvandva) such as heat and cold, hunger and thirst, standing and sitting. By meditating at the height of summer surrounded by bonfires, the yogi was thought to expose the dark tamas and rajas to a kind of "intense white

heat" that rapidly burned up such polluting qualities. Yoga Sutra* II.43 suggests that such tapas "in the very act of completing itself destroys defilement from the covering of impurity."68 Vyasa* adds that through such intense purification of the body achieves the power of atomization (described in Yoga Sutra* III. 45), and the sense organs, by virtue of their sattvic transparency, the ability to see and hear at a distance, i.e., telepathy.

The goal of the yogic practice of cleanliness and tapas is to free oneself from the polluting sway of the gunas . Vacaspati Misra describes it clearly in his "Explanation" on Yoga Sutra* I.16, "The purity of knowledge consists in the steady flow of the quality of essence (sattva), due to the removal of active disturbance (rajas) and inertia (tamas). This brings about recognition of the distinct natures of the purusa* and the

'qualities.'69 Vyasa* makes clear that

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both the body and the mental states have been purified of karma and the dark gunas . Indeed, the purity attained is such that the mind has become like a transparent crystal which clearly reflects what is placed before it.70 Once the concentration of the yogi is turned inward upon the flow of consciousness itself, what is seen is purusa, the true Self, since all other karmic obscurations have been purged from both body and mind.71 While all of this yogic

achievement is admirable from the point of view of its spiritual goal, a direct result of the guna* theory employed is a very negative view of those persons who do not practise yoga, who are of the lower castes, or who happen to be women. This negative view is a most unfortunate flip side of the purity which the yogi struggles so hard to achieve.

III. Further Exemplification of Patañjali's Position in the Disciplines of Gorakhnath* and His Followers

The ancient Indian ideas regarding purity and the body found in the Vedas and latter systematized in Sankhya* and Yoga theory are further exemplified in the Kanphata* Yogis of the medieval period. The Kanphata* Yogis look upon Gorakhnath* as the founder of their order. Traditions and legends concerning Gorakhnath* are widespread in India through Nepal, the United Provinces, Bengal, Western India, and the Punjab. Gorakhnath* is looked on as more than a human teacher. He is thought of as being outside the ordinary laws of time and appearing on the earth in different ages or yugas. He is said to have lived in the Punjab, and historical references would place his

date not later than 1200 C.E.72 Gorakhnath* seems to have been the author of the Goraksasataka*, a mingling of Yoga and Tantra doctrines. Many of its verses are copied verbatim in the later Hathayogapradipika* of Savatmarama *. These two texts are foundational for the practice of the medieval yogis.73

In the Goraksasataka*, as is the case in Patañjali's Yoga, special attention is paid to the power of breath (prana*) and its regulation. The body is thought of as filled with nadis*, which are conceived of as subtle channels of power having their ends or outlets in the openings of the body.74 The aim of the yoga practice is to purify these channels so that the breath or prana* can pass through them freely. In our ordinary state, the channels are conceived of as full of impure secretions. As the Hathayogapradipika* puts it:

The Nadis* should be cleansed of their impurities by performing the mudras*, etc. (which are the practices relating to the air) asanas", kumbhakas and various curious mudras *. 75 Some of the more unusual of these practices include: dhauti (slowly swallowing and drawing out a long narrow wet rag), vasti (sitting in a tub of water

Page 28

and giving oneself an enema by inserting a small bamboo tube into the anus), neti (inserting a smooth nine inch thread in through a nostril and out through the mouth), and gajakarani * (self-induced vomiting to clean out the stomach). To these are added many yogic postures, each designed to purify some organ or channel of the body.76 All of these practices are aimed at cleaning out impurities (food, faeces, phlegm, mucous secretions, and so on) so that the breath or prana* flows freely through the subtle

channels or nadis* of the body. When the channels have been cleansed, the body is said to become lean and of a glowing colour, the appetite is strong, youth is regained, divine sounds are heard, and the power of death may be destroyed.77 Once the nadis* are cleaned, the way is open for the arousal of the great power (kundalini*) by the practice of prana* until the final state of spiritual knowledge (jnana*) or release (mukti) is realized.78 Rather than totally ridding oneself of the body, as was the goal with Patañjali, Gorakhnath's*

aim is for a perfectly purified divine body. As he puts it in his Goraksosataka*, verse 101:

By cleansing the nadis* the prana* is restrained as desired, the digestive fire is kindled, internal sound is heard, and one becomes diseaseless.79 Having this outline of Gorakhnath's* yoga in mind, let us examine the implications of this particular emphasis on purification for the attitude toward women.

In Gorakhnath's* Goraksasataka*, the ordinary state of the body is that the nadis* are full of impure secretions.80 The aim is the drying up of the liquids of the body.81 Since women's bodiesby virtue of menstruation and giving birthhave more secretions, they are judged to be more impure than the ordinary bodies of men. Indeed, the notion of rajas is carried over from Sankhya* and Yoga and defined by Gorakhnath* as menstrual fluid.82 The goal is to dry

up and withdraw the rajas, thus, in a sense, achieving a reversal of nature. Since women are the embodiment of the usual course of nature and the supreme temptation to continue in it, they are judged by Gorakhnath* and his followers as the greatest impediment in one's progress towards immortality.83 In the Nath* literature, woman is depicted as the tigress from whom man must save himself. Charmed and allured by her, the man looses vital energy. She is

the enchantress of the day and tigress of the night. The Nath* yogis were strict celibates. For them, pleasure in the company of women leads inevitably to death, forsaking women leads to life.84 The Naths* regarded women as the greatest danger on the path to yoga. They are given the status of ferocious tigresses bent on sucking the blood of the prey. Gorakhnath* himself is reported to have said, "The breath of women dries up the body and

youth vanishes day by day. Foolish are the people who under-

Page 29 stand nothing and make pets of tigresses in everyhouse; in the day the tigress becomes the world- enchantress and at night she dries up the whole body." 85 In the Nath* literature women are generally termed as thieves, dacoits, pirates, thirsty tigresses and hypocrite cats.86

In the physiology of the day, this drying up of the male body is understood in a very literal way: the emission of semen in sexual intercourse was understood to be a loss of the male's vital energyenergy essential for the practice of yoga. Thus, some of the more esoteric yoga practices were aimed at saving the male seed (the maha- rasa*) from any kind of discharge, even in the alluring presence of women. This was especially true for the precursors of the Nath* Yogis, the

Sahajiya* yogis who needed the help of a woman for the practice of their yoga. The Sahajiya* yogis followed the Tantric technique of joining with a woman in intercourse after having completely mastered the temptation she offered. Most often the woman is only present in the mind, as a part of the meditative exercisethe sakti* or female force of nature.87 In some eases, however, the intense emotion of the physical experience of intercourse was used to induce the

deeper experience of being carried out of oneself and into divine bliss.88 The status of the woman engaged in such yogic practice is unclear. Sometimes she seems to have been seen as participating in the spirituality of the experience, while at other times she is treated simply as a sexual objecta low caste, polluted harlot or washerwoman from outside the city (a dombi*) who was engaged for the purpose. But even the few Sahajiya* yogis who would allow

such practices were very aware of the dangers introduced by intimate involvement with a woman.

Wendy O'Flaherty has noted that, in post- Vedic India, menstrual blood has an ambiguous character. In some Tantric rituals, mentrual blood is eaten, Sometimes menstrual blood is seen as nonpolluting, as being the female creative power (parallel to the male semen) and, as such, sacred or taboo. In post-Vedic mythology, menstrual blood sometimes appears as a symbol of the passion of womenas their fertile erotic

fluid.89 In the primative physiology, menstrual blood, rather than the ovum, was taken to be the female component which combined with the male semen to produce conception. Sometimes milk is described as being made from menstrual bloodthe most polluting of substances becomes the purest of substances.90

It is evident in the above paragraphs that a secondary tradition in Hindu India sees females and their body fluids as at times positive and powerful. However, even in this secondary Tantric tradition, the fluids within the body are basically a pernicious force which needs to be controlled.91 The rules set forth in the Dharmasastras* reflect the mainstream of Hindu thinking on how to keep the bodily fluids flowing (a necessity for the householder life) in ways that will do

the least damage.

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Many of the stories of the great yogis of India include a fall at the hands of a tempting woman. 92 It is of interest to note that, in this literature, Mayanamati* one of the few women to reach the status of the yogic hero, is given mixed reports. Although given initiation by none other than Gorakhnath*, himself, some reports suggest that her conduct was not above suspicioneven though she denied any misbehavior (all this recalls to mind the experience of

Sita*, the heroine of the Ramayana*). While depicted as a woman of mystic wisdom (a Tantric dakini*) in the Nath* literature, Mayanamati* has also been regarded as someone with supernatural powers midway between a witch and a goddess.93

Research is needed to explore the situation of other women who achieved the high status of being acclaimed yogic heroes. Anandamayi* Ma* is a recent example. In his study of her life, Alexander Lipski reports that, for her, the question of sexual desire did not even arise. Nor was her marriage ever physically consummated. When her husband, Bholanath*, first tried to approach her physically he is reported to have received such a violent electric shock from her body that he

quickly lost all desire. On other occasions when sexual desire entered even his unconscious mind, Ma's* body is said to have assumed all the symptoms of death, quashing Bholanath's* sexual desire and causing him to become frightened and chant mantras as a way of reestablishing contact with his wife. She quickly became his guru or spiritual master, and the remainder of their life together functioned in the guru- student relationship in which all

feeling was spiritual rather than sexual.94 No evidence is offered as to whether her menstrual flow dried up (at a young age) under the influence of her spiritual sadhana . Such an outcome would not be unexpected given that menstruation can be inhibited by strong psychic states (e.g., mental stress). Such a lack of menstruation in one such as Anandamayi Ma* would fit in well with Patañjali's notion of a sattvic dominance of mind and body.

Returning to the Nath* Yogis, the followers of Gorakhnath*, it is clear that for them, as for Patañjali, women are viewed negatively. While caste is overcome in that Nath* Yogis have no caste and all eat together, their women are not allowed to eat with them.95 Some women are given initiation. They are either married women or those who enter the sect after the death of their husbands.96 Although such initiation gave women a higher

status than they received elsewhere in medieval India,97 they were still in the position of being very much second class citizens. Certainly at least until the menopause, a women's body was necessarily more polluted than the body of a man. In their ascetic orders, the Nath* nuns were governed by monks. The subordination of the nuns was due to their more polluted physiological state. For the Nath* Yogis, as for Patañjali, the simple fact of human nature was that women,

because of their greater degrees of bodily secretion, embodied

Page 31 more rajas and tamas. Consequently, they were more polluted, a source of temptation to the yogi and thus to be avoided. IV. The Clash Between the Classical View of Purity and the Equality Prescribed by India's New Constitution

The classical Indian viewthat low caste and femalehess is simply a reflection of the karma one had established for oneself due to one's own free choices in previous birthsis rejected in the thought of contemporary Hindu thinkers and in the provisions of India's Constitution. One modern Hindu writer, Swami Iswarananda *, criticizes the classical view of karma and rebirth as having produced a certain callousness towards

otherstheir needs and situation in life. The point Iswarananda* makes is that karma theory implies that it is inappropriate or even hopeless to attempt to ameliorate situations of distress or injustice in the human community. As he puts it,

the prevalent Hindu doctrine that one's life is solely determined by one's karma and therefore one can afford to be callous toward the suffering of those around him has been responsible for not only the neglect of the masses in India by the aristocracies of learning, power and wealth, but also for standing as a barrier to their growth and welfare.98

The application of these remarks to the lack of equality experienced by low eastes and women in the classical karma and guna* theory is obvious. Another modern thinker, Sanat Kumar Sen, states the problem is a less polemic fashion: " .. the assumption of Karma may even seem to justify callousness in the face of human suffering, for if everybody's fate is a result of his own action, why should we attempt

to mitigate others' miseries except on the grounds of selfishness."99 Other writers, of course, deny that such a selfish result is entailed by the doctrine of karma, emphasizing the individual's present freedom to act in morally responsible ways as provided for by karma and guna* theory.100 One modern Hindu who stressed the freedom present in classical karma theory even to the point of social revolution was Swami Vivekananda.

Vivekananda went so far as to use karma theory as a basis to criticize the oppressed for their weakness. The following story was retold within the Ramakrishna Order.

It was in Almora that a certain elderly man, with a face full of amiable weakness, came and put him a question about Karma. What were they to do, he asked, whose Karma it was to see the strong oppress the weak? The Swami turned on him in surprise indignation. "Why, thrash the strong, of course!" he said, "You forget your own part in this Karma; Yours is always the right to rebel."101

Page 32

For Vivekananda, karma has manufactured your body and mind for you. What you do with its future possibilities is up to you. While it is true that karma theory, as systematized by Patañjali, does stress that karmic impulses are merely dispositions from past actions, not predeterminations, still one cannot avoid the fact that the guna * theory and its sense of the physical reality of impurity leads one to shrink from contact with othersespecially low caste persons and menstruating women. Some modern writers feel that, with the advent of modem scientific knowledge, karma theory is no longer acceptable. As Sarasvati

Chennakesavan puts it, "With the spread of scientific and technological knowledge, an explanation for the physiological and mental inequalities so far- fetched as the karma theory has become unacceptable. Facts of sociological economics and social psychology combined with anthropology are able to explain inequalities that so puzzled our ancestors."102 What Chennakesavan and most other modem writers fail to address is the spiritual motivation behind the classical ideasa motivation that can still capture the modem scientific mind, as witnessed by the appeal of Patañjali's Yoga for well-educated

Westerners.

A major conflict exists between the presupposition of the classical view and that of the Constitution of India adopted in 1949. The Preamble of the Constitution resolves to secure to all its citizens justice, liberty, equality, and fraternity, assuring the dignity of the individual and the unity of the nation.103 Part III of the Constitution entitled "Fundamental Rights" leads off with a section on "The Right to Equality." In this section, provision 15(1) states "The State shall not discriminate against any citizen on grounds only of religion, race, caste, sex, place of birth or any

of them." Provision 15(2) goes on to elaborate that no citizen shall be subject to any disability, limitation, or restriction in terms of access to public buildings (including Hindu Temples); to the use of wells, tanks, bathing ghats, roads, or public resorts; or to be discriminated against in respect of employment. The two main groups in mind here are women and those of low caste. This is made clear by sections of provision 15 which allow the state to set up special conditions for the advancement of women and low caste groups without

violating the requirement for equality of treatment. Provision 16 deals with "Untouchability," which it abolishes. All these provisions directly attack the gradations of individuals and groups which was the natural result of the classical guna* theory and its view of the body, especially the female body, as being filled with impurities. Whereas before the Constitution, and in line with the classical view, the untouchable could bring merchandise only as far as the back gate. Only after the untouchable deposited whatever it was at the back gate and physically removed his

polluting presence could the pure Brahmin come out of the house to pick up the delivery. Even then the object, whatever it was, would have to be thoroughly washed before being taken into the

Page 33 house. Similarly, in the house, the women had to keep apart from the presence of the men, eating and sitting separately.

The Constitution not only attempted to reject these negative attitudes based on the classical view of purity, it also forcefully opposed them by strongly stating the rights to freedom for all as including freedom of speech, of assembly, of movement, of settling, of holding property, and of practising and profession, see 19(1).

In his study of the Constitution and the secular India it seeks to establish, D. E. Smith observes that the above provisions constitute a revolution in the traditional conception of religion in India. 104 The revolution that the Constitution introduces is nothing short of a new standardization of Hindu personal law on the basis of equality rather than on the classical view of karmic purity. On the new basis of equality, women are no longer to be seen as inferior to men by virtue of their greater bodily impurity. Nor are people who eat meat or engage in sex and worldly pleasures to be judged as

inferior to the ascetic yogis by virtue of the impurity of their lifestyles. Indeed, the very idea of ordering society in terms of levels of purity and impurity, which, in part at least produced the caste system, is ruled out by the new Constitution. These equality provisions of the Constitution have also provided the basis for legislation opening Hindu religious institutions to all classes and sections of India. Harijan temple entry laws have been enacted by many state legislatures. "The central Untouchability (Offenses) Act of 1955 provides inter alia that any attempt to prevent Harijans from exercising their right of

temple entry is punishable with imprisonment, fine or both."105 Court interpretations of the equality provisions of the Constitution have quashed attempts of a religious community to excommunicate one of its members, thus highlighting the clash between the role of the state and its equality provisions with the internal autonomy of a religious demonination.106 While excommunication in the West is mainly a matter of religious belief, in India excommunication exists much more on the social level as an act of removing a person from a particular caste group or baring the entry of

others into a particular caste. The roots of such discrimination are found in the classical views of religious purity as sanctification. The outlawing of excommunication by the courts is a dramatic example of the clash between the egalitarian philosophy of the Constitution and the elitist (by one's own efforts) approach of Hindu karma and guna* theory. What the Constitution does not address, of course, is whether the provision of equality is true and just, whereas the Hindu distinctions made on the basis of karmic purity in search of moksa* are to be overturned as untrue and unjust. The basis of the ancient

Hindu views of purity are found in the sruti* and smrti* which, for the Hindu, have the status of revelation. What makes the modern situation especially ambiguous is that the Constitution sees itself as providing freedom

Page 34 of religion, on the one hand, and yet removes that freedom when the basic revelations of the religion are found to contravene the Constitution's premise of equality. The courts of India have the difficult task of having to arbitrate this fundamental clash. 107 Notes

1. John B. Carman, "Axes of Sacred Value in Hindu Society," in Purity and Auspiciousness in Indian Society, edited by John B. Carman and Frederique A. Marglin. Liden: E. J. Brill, 1985, p. 109.

2. "Clean and Unclean", The Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible, vol. 1, New York: Abingdon Press, 1962, pp. 641ff.

3. T. N. Madan, "Concerning the Categories subha* and suddha* in Hindu Culture" in Purity and Auspiciousness in Indian Society, p. 17.

4. For an excellent analysis see the papers by T. N. Madan, A. Hillebeitel, V. Narayan, and F. A. Marglin in Purity and Auspiciousness in Indian Society, 1985.

5. Yoga Sutra* I.2

6. Yoga Sutra* 2.32 on saucha *.

7. A. L. Basham, The Wonder That Was India. New York: Grove Press, 1959, p. 16.

8. Basham, The Wonder That Was India, p. 18.

9. Katherine Young, "Hinduism" in Women in World Religions, edited by Arvind Sharma, Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 1987, pp. 59-103.

10. Shakuntala Rao Sastri, Women in the Vedic Age. Bombay: Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, 1969, p. 16.

11. Bhagwat Saran Upadhaya, Women in Rgveda *. New Delhi: S. Chand & Co., 1974, p. 185.

12. See the analysis of Gerald Larsen, Classical Sankhya *. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1979, p. 94. Some scholars, however, question this analysis by Larsen.

13. See Padmanabh S. Jaini, The Jaina Path of Purification. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979, Cp IV "The Mechanism of Bondage."

14. Larsen, Classical Sankhya*, p. 97, for his analysis of the Katha* Upanisad *.

15. Katha* Upanisad* III > 3-4

16. Katha* Upanisad* III. 6 & V. 1.

17. See Mircea Eliade, Yoga: Immortality and Freedom. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1969, p. 25.

18. Maitri* Upanisad* III.4 as translated by S. Radhakrishnan, The Principal Upanisads . London: Allen and Unwin, 1968, p. 807.

19. Maitri* Upanisad* III.5 as translated by R. E. Hume, The Thirteen Principal Upanisads. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1968, pp. 419-420.

Page 35

20. Maitri * Upanisad*, as quoted in VI.34, trans. by R. E. Hume.

21. Maitri* Upanisad* VI. 10.

22. Maitri* Upanisad* VI.30, trans. by R. E. Hume.

23. Katherine Young, "Hinduism," in Women in World Religions, p. 70.

24. Katherine Young, "Hinduism", pp. 72-92. For a detailed analysis of sruti* and smrti* texts and their function as Hindu scripture, see Harold Coward, Sacred Word and Sacred Text: Scripture in Worm Religions. Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1988.

25. See Katherine Young, "Hinduism" for a detailed analysis of this development, pp. 73f.

26. Alaka Hejib and Katherine K. Young, "Power of the Meek (abala*): A Feature of Indian Feminism." Unpublished paper presented to the American Academy of Religion, New Orleans.

27. See Katherine Young, "Hinduism," p. 78.

28. Romesh C. Dutt, The Ramayana and the Mahabharata. New York: Everyman's Library, 1969.

29. Mahabharata* XII.243.20 as quoted by Johann Jakob Meyer, The Sexual Life of Ancient India. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1971, p. 7.

30. Mahabharata* III.303 ff.

31. "The Sacred Books of the East," The Laws of Manu, trans. by G. Bühler, vol. 25, Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1967, vol. XI, pp. 171-174.

32. Meyer, The Sexual Liƒe of Ancient India, p. 225.

33. Ibid, p. 362.

34. Ibid, pp. 240-241.

35. T. R. V. Murti, "The Gita- Conception* of Philosophy and Religion," in Studies in Indian Thought, edited by Harold Coward. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1983, p. 313.

36. The Laws of Manu, XII.24-37.

37. This summary is taken from Katherine Young, "Hinduism," pp. 80ff.

38. James M. Freeman, "The Ladies of Lord Krishna: Rituals of Middle- Aged Women in Eastern India," Unspoken Worlds: Women's Religious Lives in Non- Western Cultures, ed. Nancy Auer Falk and Rita M. Gross. San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1980, p. 126.

39. Alaka Hejib and Katherine K. Young, "Towards Recognition of the Religious Structure of the Sati." Paper presented to the American Oriental Society, 1978. The following description of the widow is taken from this article as cited by Katherine Young, "Hinduism," pp. 83-86.

40. Elizabeth Leigh Stutchbury, "Blood, Fire and Meditation: Human Sacrifice and Widow Burning in Nineteenth Century India" in Women in India and Nepal, ed. Michael Allen and S. N. Mukherjee. Canberra: Australian National University, 1982, p. 23. Stutchbury offers accounts of both voluntary and non- voluntary sati *.

Page 36

41. Ibid, p. 36.

42. One eyewitness report describes such stoicism of the sati * in the fire as follows: "I stood near enough to touch the pile, but I heard no sound and saw no motion, except one gentle upheaving of the brushwood over the body after which all was still." Ibid., p. 32.

43. Katherine Young, "Hinduism," p. 85.

44. Jocelyn Krygier, "Caste and Female Pollution," in Women in Nepal and India, p. 77.

45. Ibid.

46. Ibid.

47. Ibid., p. 94. The quote is from Baudhayana II.2.4, as translated by Max Muller.

48. Michael Allen, "The Hindu View of Women," in Women in India and Nepal, p. 17.

49. Ibid., p. 19.

50. Ibid., p. 5.

51. Ibid., p. 9.

52. Ibid., p. 11.

53. See, for example, Manikkavachakar's Tiruvachakam, translated by Ratna Navaratnam. Bombay: Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, 1975.

54. See Yogadarsanam* of Patañjali. Varanasi: Bharatiya* Vidya* Prakasana*, 1963, II.5. English translations consulted include: J. H. Woods, The Yoga System of Patañjali. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1966; Rama Prasada, Yoga Sutras* of Patañjali. Delhi: Oriental Books Reprint Corporation, 1978, and Bangali Baba, The Yoga Sutra* of Patañjali. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1976.

55. From Vyasa's* "Commentary" on Yoga Sutra* II.5, as translated by J. H. Woods.

56. From Vacaspati Misra's* "Explanation" on Yoga Sutra* II.5, as translated by J. H. Woods.

57. See Sankhya* theory as formulated, around the same time, in the Sankhya* karika* of Isvara* Krishna, trans. By J. Davies. Calcutta: Susil Gupta, 1947.

58. Yoga Sutra*, II.18, Commentary (bhasya*).

59. See Gopinath Kaviraj, "The Doctrine of Pratibha* in Indian Philosophy," Annals of the Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute, 1924, pp. 1-18 and 113-132.

60. Yoga Sutra*, II. 18, Commentary (bhasya*).

61. Yoga Sutras*, II. 12-14 & IV.7-9. The following is a summary of karma as found in these passages of the Yoga Sutras *:

Karma has klesamulah* its origin in karmasavah* (Sutra* afflictions II. 12) It ripens sati mule* takvipako* into life- jatyayyurbhogah* states, life- experiences, (Sutra* II. 13) and life- time, if the root exists Those [life- te states, etc.], hladaparitapaphalah* as the fruit, are pleasant punyapunyahetuvat* or (Sutra* II. 14) unpleasant, because they are produced from virtuous or non- virtuous causes.

Page 37 To those who parinamatapasamskaraduhkhair understand, all * [of those] is indeed pain, gunavrttivirodhac* ca duhkham because change, eva anxiety, and sarvam vivekinah (Sutra* II. habituation are 15) painful and [the life- states, etc.] obstruct the operations of virtuous qualities. In Yoga Sutra*, karma is equal to vasana* A Yogin's karma karmasuklakrsnam* yoginas is niether white trividham nor black: for [all] itaresam* (Sutra* IV. 7) others, it is threefold. From the tatas tadvipakanugunanam* [threefold karma] there come the ekabhivyaktir* vasananam* impressions (Sutra* IV. 8) (vasana*) of only those which are capable of bringing about their fruition. In Yoga Sutra*, smrti* is equal to samskara*

jatidesakalavyavahitanam* apy [The process of anantaryam* impression] smrtisamskarayor* continues ekarupatvat* (Sutra* IV. 9) uninterruptedly, Commentary states: even though kutas* ca smrtisamskaravor* there is ekarupatvat/yathanubhavas* a time lapse tatha* between births, amskarah* te ca places, karmavasanarupah/yatha* ca and time, vasanas* because tahta* smrtir memory and iti/jatidesakalavyavahitebhyah* memory traces samskarebhyah* smrtis* ca are of one punah substance. samskara* ity evam ete (Note: here, smrtisamskarah* samskara* is karmasayavrttilabhavasavesad* better abhivayajyante / . . . . / translated vasanah* 'memory traces', samskara* asaya* ity arthah/ because unlike Sutra II. 15, samskara* is e quated to smrti *. )

Therefore, according to this:

smrti* samskara* smrti : the continuation of which is supported by karma (karmabhivyanjakam) and vasana* functions as the support for samskara* (memory traces) which produce smrti* (memory).

62. From "Commentary" on Yoga Sutra* II.1 as translated by Rama Prasada, p. 88.

63. Information on tradition from Prof. T. R. V. Murti, Banaras Hindu University, July 1972.

64. See The Hathayogapradipika* of Svatmarama* with English translation. Adyar: Adyar Library and Research Centre, 1972. The practice of dhauti or swallowing a wet piece of cloth is described in II. 24.

65. Yoga Sutra* II.40, translation by J. H. Woods.

66. Yoga Sutra* II.40, Commentary of Vyasa*, translated by J. H. Woods, p. 188.

67. The Bhagavad- Gita*, translated by R. C. Zaehner. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1969, 1.42, p. 119.

68. Yoga Sutra* II.43, Commentary of Vyasa*, translated by J. H. Woods, p. 189.

Page 38

69. Yoga Sutra * I.16, Explanation of Vacaspati Misra* trans. by Rama Prasada, p. 31.

70. Yoga Sutra* I.41.

71. Yoga Sutra* I.47-51.

72. The above information on Gorakhnath* is taken from George Weston Briggs, Gorakhnath* and the Kanphata* Yogis *. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1973, pp. 228-249.

73. Ibid., Cp. 12.

74. The ten chief nadis* are ida*, pingla*, susumna*, gandhari*, hastijihva* pusa*, yasasvini*, alambusa*, buhus* and samkhini* They terminate respectively in the left nostril, the right nostril, the hole-in- the skull (anterior fontanell), the left eye, the right eye, the right ear, the left ear, the mouth, the male organ and the anus. See Gorakhnath* and the Kanphata* Yogis*, Cp 15, for more details.

75. As quoted by Briggs from Hathayogapradipika* 1.58., p. 309.

76. The above practices are described in Chapter Two of the Hathayogapradipika *.

77. For details see Chapters Two and Three of the Hathyogapradipika *.

78. See Chapter Four of the Hathyogapradipika* and "The Goraksa* Sataka*" of Gorakhnath*, verse 101, as translated by G. W. Briggs in Gorakhnath* and the Kanphata* Yogis*, p. 304.

79. The Goraksa* Sataka*, translation by G. W. Briggs, Gorakhnath* and the Kanphata* Yogis, p. 304. See also verse 82, p. 303.

80. Goraksa* Sataka*, verse 905, Briggs p. 303.

81. Goraksa* Sataka*, verse 58, Briggs p. 296.

82. Goraksa* Sataka*, verse 73, Briggs, p. 299.

83. Shashibhusan Dasgupta, Obscure Religious Cults. Calcutta: Firma K. L. Mukhopadhyay, 1962, p. 249.

84. Ibid., p. 223.

85. Ibid., p. 244.

86. Ibid., p. 245.

87. Ibid., p. 99.

88. Ibid., p. 153.

89. Wendy Doniger O'Flaherty, Women, Androgynes and Other Mythical Beasts, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1982, p. 40.

90. Ibid., p. 42.

91. Ibid., p. 60.

92. Dasgupta, Obscure Religious Cults, p. 393.

93. See Dasgupta, "Mayanamati", "Appendix C of Obscure Religious Cults, pp. 397-398.

94. Alexander Lipski, The Life and Teaching of Sri*, Anandamayi* Ma*, Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1977, pp. 6-7.

95. Briggs, Gorakhnath* and the Kanphata* Yogis, p. 27.

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96. Ibid., p. 34.

97. Basham, The Wonder That Was India, p. 178. Basham adds that, in general in medieval India, women were not encouraged to take up a life of religion or asceticism. "Their true function was marriage and the care of their menfolk and children." p. 178.

98. Swami Iswarananda *, Does the Soul Reincarnate? Trichur: Sri Ramakrishna Ashrama, 1964, pp. 44, 50-51.

99. Sanat Kumar Sen, "Indian Philosophy and Social Ethics," Journal of the Indian Academy of Philosophy, vol. 6, 1967, pp. 67-68.

100. See S. Gopalan, "Karma, Rebirth and the Hindu Philosophy of the Individual and Society," Indian Philosophical Annual, vol. 1, 1965, pp. 153-154. See also Paramanheri Sundaram Sivaswamy Aiyer, Evolution of Hindu Moral Ideals. Calcutta: Calcutta University, 1935, p. 149j.

101. Swami Vivekananda, Collected Works, VIII., pp. 262-263.

102. Sarasvati Chennakesavan, Concepts of Indian Philosophy. Columbia, Mo .: South Asia Books, 1976, p. 223.

103. The Constitution of India proclaimed by the Indian Constituent Assembly, Nov. 26, 1949, p. 1.

104. Donald Eugene Smith, India as a Secular State. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1963, p. 108.

105. Ibid.

106. The case referred to is that of Taher Saifuddin v. Tyebbhai Moosaji cited by Smith, p. 110. See also Robert Baird, "Religion and the Secular: Categories for Religious Conflict and Religious Change in Independent India," Journal of Asian and African Studies, vol. XI, 1987, pp. 47-63.

107. See, for example, the Supreme Court Case Sri Venkataramana Devaru v. State of Mysore, Nov. 1957, Appeal No. 327.

Page 41 2. The Classical Hindu View on Abortion and the Moral Status of the Unborn* JULIUS J. LIPNER I. Clarification of Terms

Let us start with a few clarifications, the better to focus our perspective and concerns. At present, the nature and moral status of the human unborn, considered in various contexts (genetic research, in vitro fertilisation, abortion, surrogate motherhood, and so on), form a topic of intense discussion in the West. In India, however, these issues, for the most part, still lie below the surface in the public mind, or, to change the metaphor, have yet to

come out of the closet. 1 It is all the more important, therefore, to broach this topic in preparation for the Indian debate that needs must arise, especially from the Hindu viewpointthe viewpoint of the majority of Indians. In the process, I hope some light will be shed on the complexities of the Western discussion. The approach in this essay has primarily the moral angle in view, though it will also be necessary, where relevant, to make philosophical,

historical, medical, and other observations. Further, in the Hindu context, this vast area of study is, for the most part, uncharted in any systematic way. For this reason, we shall focus on the concept of abortion as being the most suitable handle to come to grips with the complex web of ideas which makes up the Hindu view of the moral status of the unborn. Indeed, it will bring us to the heart of the matter.

*This essay is dedicated to Fr. George Gispert- Sauch, S.J., of Vidyajyoti, Institute of Religious Studies, Delhisound scholar and good friend.

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In this chapter, abortion is to be understood in the causative sense, that is, as the deliberate effecting of a miscarriage, a deliberate termination of pregnancy. Abortion, then, is to be distinguished from involuntary miscarriage. As we shall see, this is an important distinction, not least in the Sanskritic tradition, and it is not always observed in discussions like this, especially when translations of the relevant Sanskrit terms are involved. For the purposes of

this essay one limit of our study will be the moment prior to (human) conception; the other limit will be the birth of the infant. Thus, we shall not consider issues relating to contraception, and so on, on the one hand, or stillbirth, infanticide, etc. on the other.

Moreover, we shall be concerned with the CLASSICAL Hindu view. In effect, our study will rely on Sanskrit texts ranging from about 600 B.C.E. to 600 C.E. These texts will be taken from both sruti * and smrti ; the former term denotes the canonical scriptures of the Hindus, comprising the Vedas and including the Upanisads, while the latter term refers to the numerous non-canonical scriptures whose authority derives from their alleged corroboration and illumination

of sruti . In point of fact, under smrti we shall refer mainly to the seminal writings on law (Dharmasutras* and Dharmasastras*), to some Puranas* (repositories of folklore and popular religion), to that great epic, the Mahabharata* (a compendium similar to the Puranas*), and to the medical works of Caraka and Susruta*all of which found their present form in the period mentioned. No doubt to contextualize the classical view so demarcated, we shall have

to take note of Hindu thinking before and after this period, but there can be no doubt that it was from about 600 B.C.E. to 600 C.E. that the definitive Hindu view on the moral status of the unborn in connection with abortion was developed and established. This is a view which, in its essentials, remained unchanged through succeeding centuries and which continues to exert a powerful influence on the contemporary Hindu mind. It is in this

sense only that I use "classical" to describe the context of our study.

Here we may note the distinction implied in the Sanskrit between the terms for abortion (garbha-, bhruna -: hatya, vadha) and those for (involuntary) miscarriage. The former terms assume that a morally reprehensible killing (hatya*) has taken place, rather than an ethically neutral evacuation, dislodging, or excision, for example, while, as we are about to see, the standard Sanskrit words for miscarriage refer simply to a falling or emission (of the embryo2). The law books and law manuals (Dharmasutras* and Dharmasastras*),3 a as well as the medical texts, are standard sources for the various terms for miscarriage. Chiefly to correspond to different forms of ritual purification for the mother and her kinsfolk, various "descent" words are

applied in Sanskrit to miscarriage as it occurs during different stages in pregnancy. The lawbook of Gautama (Gautamadharmasutra *: GauDS), a

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work of about 6th century B.C.E., 4 under II.5.15, speaks of miscarriage as a sramsana* (a falling or dropping).5 A later authority, the well-known law manual, the Manusmrti* (MnS), 200 B.C.E .- 200 C.E.,6 uses garbhasrava* (the flow or issue of the embryo) to refer to the same event.7 The authoritative Yajnavalkyasmrti* (YjS), 1st .- 3d. century of the Christian era8 also refers to garbhasrava*, under III.20: "In the case of miscarriage (garbhasrava*) (observance of the purification ritual for) as many nights as correspond to the months (of pregnancy) causes purity."9 Commenting on this text,

Vijnanesvara*, in his Mitaksara* (Mit.) 11th .- 12th. century, the most authoritative and well-known commentary on the YjS, makes reference to miscarriage occurring at different periods in pregnancy by way of specific "descent" terms. Quoting Marici*, an accepted authority on dharma (the law as supportive of right living, from dhr*, to support), the Mit. says: "Till the fourth (month of pregnancy, miscarriage) would be an 'emission' (srava*), and a 'fall' (pata*) for the fifth and sixth (months); after that it would be an 'issue' (prasuti*), while in the tenth month it would be a 'generation'

(sutaka*, i.e., tantamount to a stillbirth?).10 In all these instances, the distinction is preserved, in terminology as well as in intention, between what we have described as abortion and as miscarriage.11 This becomes luminously clear from the way the texts morally evaluate these two events. II. Abortion: Moral Evaluation in Sruti*

We may begin by simply pointing out that the earliest sruti* texts attest that the embryo in the womb is specially deserving of protection and that, indeed, abortion is a morally intolerable act. In the Rg* Samhita* (which embodies some of the earliest recorded canonical scriptures of the Hindus, dating possibly to before 1200 B.C.E.) the deity Visnu* is referred to as "protector of the child- to-be.12 The implication here is clearly that the

embryo requires special protection because of its moral inviolability and physical vulnerability; this protection is sought from Visnu* who, from Vedic times to the present, has always been regarded as the special preserver of life and order.13 The Atharva Veda (equally old, possibly older in parts) expresses the same attitude towards the unborn child, with the added implication that abortion counts amongst the most heinous crimes. In VI. 113.2 (see also VI.112.3)

we have: "Enter thou into the rays, into smoke, O sin. Begone into the vapours and into the mists! Be lost in the foam of the rivers. While thou, O Pusan*, wipe off (our) misdeeds on the slayer of the embryo (bhrunaghni*).14 Such a "wiping off" is always recommended upon the worst offenders.15 The Satapatha* Brahmana* (which belongs to a period after that of the Vedic hymns) invokes what is obviously the general view on human abortion when it

condemns those who consume beef: "Such people

Page 44 have a bad reputation, of the kind 'He's extracted the embryo from a mother,' 'He's an evildoer." 16

There are clearer indications of disapproval by the time we come to the Upanisads* (most of which fall within the classical period). Thus the Brhadaranyaka* Upanisad* (one of the oldest Upanisads*, probably 8th-9th century B.C.E.), when describing a form of mystical experience, notes: "Here the father is no longer a father, the mother no longer a mother, the (post-mortem) worlds are no longer such worlds, the gods no longer gods, the Vedas no longer Vedas. The thief is no longer a thief, the slayer of

the embryo (bhrunaha*) no longer a slayer of the embryo, the Candala* and the Paulkasa are no longer such, 17 nor are the monk and the ascetic. Both merit and demerit cease to have effect, for then one has crossed over every concern of the heart."18 The Upanisad* is referring to a state of awareness in which the most significant worldly relationships and designations for the Hindu cease to have meaning. What concerns us is the place accorded to the slayer of the embryo (bhrunaha*) here. Such a person, in

contrast to the most idealised members of society (the monk and the ascetic), is relegated to a position among the vilest, viz., the thief (especially the culprit who steals from a Brahmin) and the most contaminating outcasts. In other words, abortion violated dharmathe socio-religious orderin a most serious way. This implies that the living embryo enjoyed a special moral status in the eyes of the Hindu and was specially deserving of protection and respect. The reasons for this we shall inquire into later.

We may conclude this brief review of the sruti* position on abortion by quoting from one or two later Upanisads . In commending intimate knowledge of the deity, Indra, in III. 1 the Kausitaki Upanisad* says in his name: "For him who knows me, his (post-mortem) world is not lost on account of any actionnot by stealing, nor by abortion, nor by killing one's mother or father. ... "19 Here the text implicitly stresses that abortion (bhrunahatya* is the term used) is a reprehensible killing, for it is ranked

alongside particularly heinous forms of murder. For its part, the Mahanarayana* Upanisad* lists the abortionist with such offenders as the violator of the guru's bed (gurutalpaga), the one who is unfaithful to his vow of chastity (avakirni*), and the drunkard (surapana*).20 III. Abortion: Moral Evaluation in Smrti*

We turn now to the occasionally more explicit smrti* texts, in order to give a clearer picture of the recommended view of the status of the unborn (and of the censure attaching to abortion). We can accomplish this end in two ways: (a) by showing that the texts concur in fostering special respect and

Page 45 making special allowances for the pregnant woman, and (b) by noting the explicit condemnation of (and punishment for) abortion in these sources. (A) Attitude to Pregnant Women

The so-called Visnudharmasutra * (ViDS) or Law Book of Visnu* (the relevant prose sections of which Kane ascribes to 300 B.C.E. to 100 C.E.21) protects the pregnant woman (and indeed the embryo directly) by equating the killing of either with one of the most serious offences a Hindu could commit, viz. the killing of a Brahmin. In ViDS XXXVI.1 we read: "Killing a Ksatriya* or a Vaisya* engaged in sacrifice, a menstruating woman, a pregnant woman . . . (and) ... the embryo (even) of a stranger ... is tantamount to killing a Brahmin."22 Elsewhere, we read that the penance for killing a

pregnant woman unintentionally is the same as that for unintentionally killing a Brahmin (L.6-8), though, perhaps surprisingly, only the penance for unintentionally killing a king is greater.

Other forms of protection/ respect for the pregnant woman are in evidence. In the same law text, it is laid down that "the ferry-man or toll-official who collects from a student (engaged in sacred study), a forest- dweller (who has renounced worldly life), a (religious) mendicant, a pregnant woman, and one on pilgrimage (is to be fined)."23 The Mahabharata* (Mbh., 400 B.C.E .- 400 C.E.) has it that: "One must give way to the

Brahmin, to cows, to kings, to the old, to one burdened by a load, to a pregnant woman and to the infirm."24 More tellingly, under YjS 1.86, the Mit. recommends con- cremation (anvarohana*, i.e., suttee) as the righteous action for all wives except those who are pregnant or have young children to care for,25 while there is a charming suggestion in Caraka that the pregnant woman in her delicate condition should be treated like a

vessel brimful of oil: she should not be agitated lest a mishap occur.26 From these examples, the idea emerges that, for the Hindus, pregnancy was a very special state and that the unborn had a (moral) status meriting protection. This conclusion is substantiated by noting what the texts have to say in condemning abortion. (B) Condemnation of Abortion

Here there can be no doubt about the reprehensibility of abortion. The censure applying to this deed is severe indeed. In the GauDS (III.3.9), we are told that a woman loses caste by committing abortion and by sexual connection with men of lower castes.27 The Law Book of Apastamba* (Apastambadharmasutra *: ApDS), to which Kane assigns a date probably a century or two later than the GauDS,28 makes the same point: "Now these (are the actions which) lead to a fall from caste: stealing ... murder ... abortion, sexual union with women with whom one is related ma-

Page 46

ternally or paternally .. . ." 29 Now, loss of caste was a terrible consequence for a Hindu to face, especially in traditional times. Acceptance of and in caste determined one's way of life, one's social viability, and even one's prospects for salvation. Further, this had far- reaching consequences for the socio- religious standing of one's family. Loss of caste, then, was one of the ultimate socio- religious penalties of Hindu dharma

(though it was not necessarily irrevocable).

Other forms of punishment for abortion are found in the law texts. Manu forbids ancestral liberations of water (udakakriya*) to be offered "to women who were reprobates, sexually promiscuous, who harmed the embryo or its mother, and who took to liquor."30 The YjS prescribes a considerable fine31 to "the destroyer of the embryo of a female slave" (dasigarbhavinasakrt*), while under II.277 it lays down that "the highest punishment is due for injury with a weapon and for abortion."32 As the Mit. makes clear, in the latter case it is abortions other than those pertaining to female slaves and Brahmin women (dasibrahmanagarbhavyatirekena*) which are referred to, these two cases being covered by separate injunctions.33 Hindu lawgivers legislated according to circumstances. The embryo of a caste Hindu (especially of a Brahmin) was more deserving of protection than the embryo of a slave, analogous to the way the life of a virtuous person was deemed more valuable, for one reason or another, than the life of a rogue.34 But the fact that, even in the case of the slave, abortion was regarded as punishable, indeed the very

discrepancy between punishments for "high" and "low" abortions, is an indication that in classical times abortion, at least without the gravest reasons as we shall see, was morally unacceptable. Evidence of the Mahabharata* Here we may look at the evidence of the Mbh. against the acceptability of abortion. The Mbh. may be regarded as representative of authoritative classical texts on dharma which retain, for our purposes, relevant, popular appeal. We can point to at least four contexts in the Mbh. in which abortion is condemned.

1. Abortion is regarded as an instance of extreme transgression the better to emphasise the seriousness of other crimes. In Mbh. XII.86.26, to stress the king's obligation to give safe conduct to an envoy or ambassador of the enemy, it is said: "If a king is intent upon the code of the (battle-)field but slays an envoy who speaks as he has been commandedhis ancestors incur (the crime of) abortion."35

2. Abortion is referred to to indicate the great importance in which legitimate procreation was held in the society of the day (towards

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the chief end of begetting a son, for weighty economic, social, and religious reasons). The first book of the Mbh. has it that, "He who does not accede, when importuned privately, to a willing and available woman, is called a killer of the embryo by those wise in matters of law." 36 This passage seems to invoke the early tradition of niyoga or levirate as it obtained in Hindu society.

3. Reference is made to abortion so as to exalt the religious importance of the Mbh. "There can be no doubt that the wise man, having heard this Veda of Krsna* (Dvaipayana*, i.e., the Mbh.) would shed even the crime of abortion."37

4. Reference to abortion is used as a device to exalt the Brahmin. Bhisma* advises Yudhisthira *: "O excellent one, the twice-born (i.e., Brahmins) must be protected. Even if they are grave offenders you should only banish them from your dominions (- harm them no further). Chief of all, you should show mercy to the transgressors among them, even for slaying a Brahmin, violating the guru's bed, or killing an embryo."38

From these contexts, it is clear that abortion was reckoned a serious wrong.

Here we may consider a possible counter- example from the Mbh. in which abortion seems to be countenanced. In fact, in the context of this essay, it will be instructive to analyse this example. The story goes that the powerful sage Vyasa* once granted Gandhari* (the wife of the king Dhrtarastra*) a boon. Gandhari* chose to have a hundred sons. In due course, she was made pregnant by the king and remained in this state for two years. Eventually, and in despair no doubt, "Gandhariunbeknown to Dhrtarastraaborted her womb with great effort, fainting with grief. A fleshy lump came out, compact as a ball of iron"39 which Gandhari* sought to dispose of. Vyasa* had seen it all by his yogic perception and literally flew to the rescue (superman!) to thwart the natural consequences of Gandhari's* act. First,

however, he upbraids her ("What's this you've wanted to do!": kim idam* te cikirsitam*), then he commands that a hundred pots (kundanot unlike the womb in shape) be quickly filled with ghee (clarified butter) and that the ball of flesh be sprinkled with cool water. The narrative continues: "That doused ball then separated into a hundred parts, each an embryo no larger than a thumb-joint in size."40 Each embryo was then deposited in one of the pots, and the pots were stored in a safe place. Having instructed Gandhari as to when the pots were to be broken for the "delivery" of the children, Vyasa* departed to continue his austerities. In time, Gandhari* got her hundred sons (by what seems to be an early substitute for in vitro gestation .. !).

Now the point is that abortion is not really being condoned in the story. To begin with, Gandhari* aborts "fainting with grief; in spite of her desperation, she is aware that she is transgressing the ethical code by her

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deed. In fact, this is why Vyasa * rebukes her when he arrives on the scene. A chief purpose of the story is to show that an ascetic's word can never be void, however impossible of materialisation it might appear (and Vyasa* was an exceptional ascetic). Vyasa* had promised Gandhari* a hundred sons, and a hundred sons she would have. Recourse to the abortion, hedged as the act is with disclaimers and qualifications, is the literary device required for the realisation of Vyasa's* promise. In

the event, the abortion does not have its natural consequence but is redeemed by Vyasa's* prescribing a surrogate gestation. All's well in the end. The Mbh. (and Puranas* for that matter) abound with stories in which apparent abortions/ miscarriages actually do come to term by some means or other. In the end, the sanctity of the embryo is upheld. IV. Abortion: A Moral As Well As A Social Concern

At this point, an objection may be raised to the general thesis so far: For the Hindus, abortion may well have been a social rather than a moral transgression. Do the texts not imply that it is abortion among (licitly impregnated) caste-Hindus, rather than among outsiders, that is being censured? So was abortion not reprehensible because it imperiled the stability and preservation of the Hindu social order, rather than because it primarily violated the worth of the

human individual? By implication, the unborn would not enjoy then a primarily MORALLY inviolable status, but a primarily SOCIALLY inviolable one.

Anyone who makes this objection has not grasped the nature of traditional Hindu dharmathat which upholds right precept and practicefor which social and moral values were inextricably intertwined. No doubt the immediate concern of the Hindu lawgivers and law enforcers was the values of established Hindu society as they obtained for the members of that society. And no doubt in this context abortion was seen to have unacceptable social consequences. We have seen

that this was the case. But there was a strong moral element in the Hindu condemnation of abortion, with the implication that the perception of the status of the unborn had no less a moral than a social dimension. This has already been indicated in the course of this essay, but it is as well to clarify the issue.

We start by noting that in the various lists given above, abortion is placed among transgressions which not only have undesirable social consequences but which also attract strong moral condemnation. Thus though abortion is listed with drunkenness, incest, and illicit miscegenation of the castes (which, it MIGHT be argued, are predominantly social transgressions), it is also listed with unchastity (recognised to have a private, and therefore overtly moral, dimension), thieving,

violating one's guru's bed, and, es-

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pecially, killing: killing one's father or mother, and killing, in general (purusavadha *).41 Abortion even vis-à-vis the female slave is condemned, not- withstanding the fact that female slaves and servants were not exalted members of Hindu society.42 Further, the Mit. forbids suttee, an act with strong social overtones, to pregnant wives, implying thereby that the unborn have a (moral) status which must not be subjected to

social demands. One cannot argue here that a stronger social need (producing children, especially sons) takes precedence over a weaker social need (suttee). The Mit. does not say that pregnant women who already have the desired number or kind (i.e., males) of children may ascend the funeral pyre. In fact, the contrary is implied.43 In connection with all this, we must remember that Sanskrit usage clearly distinguishes between two kinds of event:

involuntary termination of pregnancy (miscarriage), and deliberate termination of pregnancy (abortion). In contrast to words for miscarriage, abortion terms are always positive killing terms (-hatya*). In context, it is difficult to see how such usage could not have had a significant moral connotation. The fact that the texts were immediately directed at caste-Hindus does not mean that they lacked a more universal moral perspective. Morally and

socially, it was generally assumed that the Hindu way was the superior way. Thus the distinctively moral Hindu ideals and judgments tacitly applied to one and all. From this we conclude that the unborn, in classical Hindu tradition, were accorded a moral status deserving of special protection and that abortion was generally reprehensible because thereby the integrity of the human person (of both victim and abortionist) was seriously violated.

We can throw into relief what has been said thus far by considering now a situation in which abortion was permitted by an authoritative classical text. This is the Susruta*, samhita* a seminal medical treatise of uncertain date (in its present form probably of 3d-4th century C.E., though reference is made to an original, which may have been in existence two or three centuries before the Christian Era). In the "Cikitsasthana*" chapter of this work, in the section called "The Foetus Astray" (mudhgarbha*), the eventuality

of aborting the foetus is considered.

The text begins by pointing out that "there is nothing as difficult as the delivery of a foetus astray in the womb, for here ... the job must be done 'by feel'. . . by one hand, without injury to mother or foetus (if possible)."44 The text continues: "If the foetus is alive, one should attempt to remove it from the womb of the mother (alive)."45as No doubt is left as to the ideal to be striven for: the safety of both mother and child. However, if the foetus is dead (mrte* garbhe), it may

be removed by cutting (and dismembering, if necessary; sutra* 9). The text then considers the situation in which the live foetus cannot be safely delivered. In this event, it forbids removal by surgery. "For if (the foetus) be cut one would harm both mother and her

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offspring. In an irredeemable situation, it is best to cause the miscarriage of the foetus, for no means must be neglected which can prevent the loss of the mother." 46 Abortion then47 is the last recourse, only when it is clearly a question of weighing life against lifethe life of the mother against that of the foetus. Throughout, the lives of both are accorded the greatest respect. It is highly unlikely that the text here was departing from

generally held views in the matter. To say that its judgement was without primary moral content would be absurd.

We may adduce one more consideration to show that, in classical times, the question of abortion and of the status of the unborn was invested with at least as much moral as social significance. Indeed, as we shall see, moral considerations seem to hold their own in what was importantly a social issue. This issue concerns the strong aversion, in the ethical codes, to "reprehensible" procreation, especially reprehensible procreation between members of different castes and the procreation between caste- Hindus and outcastes. Such reprehensible

intercaste procreation in general was called varnasamkara* (mixing of the castes). In our discussion, we shall refer to it as "miscegenation".

In traditional Hindu society three kinds of issue resulting from sexual union were recognised: 1. the offspring of "marriage proper," that is, of licit marriages between members of the same caste; 2. the product of permissible or anuloma intercaste marriages (i.e., marriages "in accordance with the sweep of the hair"). For such unions, the man had to belong to the higher caste; and 3. the issue of reprehensible unions, i.e., of (a) either illicit sex between people of the same or of

anuloma status, or (b) what were called pratiloma unions (viz., intercourse "against the sweep of the hair"). In pratiloma unions, the woman belonged to the higher caste; the greater the caste disparity between the partners, the more reprehensible both union and offspring. We are especially concerned with the children of reprehensible intercaste procreation or miscegenation. Such children were generally at a great disadvantage in society, most of them being

regarded as ritually impure or untouchable. Among the most despised of such offspring were the Candala* (the child of a Brahmin mother and a Sudra* father) and the Paulkasa (usually the child of a Ksatriya* mother and a Sudra* father).48 The situation was complicated greatly by the fact that the offspring of pratiloma unions could themselves miscegenate, often thus producing new categories of outcastes.

The aversion in which miscegenation, in general, was held in traditional Hindu society is evident from the popular texts. The Bhagavad- Gita* rovides a good example. In the very first chapter, the warrior Arjuna is recounting to his friend the Lord, Krsna*, the evil consequences of war: the social relationships between the various clans become gravely upset.

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When the clan is destroyed, the enduring clan- rules collapse. When Rule collapses, disorder overtakes the whole clan. From the ascendancy of disorder, Krsna *, the clan- women are vitiated. When the women are vitiated, then miscegenation occurs. Miscegenation results in hell for the destroyers of the elan and for the clan itselffor the ancestral fathers of such fall (from their heavens), their (post-mortem) libations and offerings having lapsed. By these crimes of the clan- destroyersthat is, bringing about miscegenationthe eternal laws of the clan and of the race are abolished. Once

the eternal clan- rules of the people are abolished, Krsna*, one resides in hell eternalthus have we heard.49 This is grave indictment indeed.

Pratiloma persons, therefore, especially the most despised groups, were subjected in the society of the time to what, by any standards, were intolerable socio- religious strictures. Yet nowhere in texts, so far as I know, is it formally recommended that abortion be resorted to as an acceptable way out, either to avert an insufferable life for the pratiloma child-to-be or to safeguard the parents from ignominy. On the contrary, elaborate provision was made in the

law texts concerning the avocations and rules of life of pratiloma persons.50 Clearly their right to life in the face of adverse social consequences both for themselves and for their parents was recognised and safeguarded.51 V. Reasons for the Classical View

Now, in this part of the essay, let us inquire into the main reasons for this view on abortion and the moral status of the unborn in classical times. A Philosophical Distinction

It will be helpful to start the discussion by reference to a distinction often made by some contemporary western moralists in the context of the moral status of the embryo/ foetus. In this context, these moralists affirm that a distinction is in order between the individual qua HUMAN BEING the individual qua HUMAN PERSON. The individual qua human being, they say, is a member of the human species but, for various reasons, is not yet a personin fact, may never be

a person. Some of these limiting reasons may be the following: the lack of a recognisable human form (in the embryo/ foetus); clear evidence (detected by mechanical devices) of insufficient (rather than abnormal) cerebral activity in some foetuses compared to cerebral activity, in other foetuses, which is accepted and established as pertaining to human persons at that stage of development, and so on. The moralists differ as to whether one or more of

such reasons are the sufficient condition to determine human personhood.

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It is not to the point here to inquire whether the criteria themselves and the distinction based on them, are valid. The point is that some moralists, having established to their satisfaction criteria for distinguishing between human beings and human persons (or at least, for the validity of this distinction), then go on to affirm that abortion in the case of human BEINGS is morally permissible for reasons which may not be valid when abortion of human PERSONS is in question. In practical terms, they incline to the view that

abortion in the early stages of pregnancy cannot be objected to morally with the same force as to abortion in the late stages of pregnancy ("early" and "late" here are given varying interpretations). This is because in early pregnancy, the human being has not yet developedfor one reason or anotherinto the human person with the latter's claim to a moral status qualitatively superior to that of the former (however "human person" may then be further defined).

Now, we may ask, is the classical Hindu view on the nature of the prenatal human individual such as to permit us to draw this kind of qualitative distinction between human being and human person, with its repercussions for the (limited) permissibility of abortion? To answer this, we shall have to examine first the traditional Hindu philosophical position on the nature of human personhood. The Hindu View of Personhood

It is well known that there are many views in Hindu tradition during our period on the nature of the human person. Nevertheless, in this respect, one and only one basic modelwith variations on the themewas accepted from early times in traditional, orthodox Hinduism (viz., in those perspectives or darsanas * which did not explicitly repudiate the authority of the accredited scriptures). According to this basic model, the human person is a composite of two essentially disparate but intimately

conjoined principlesspirit (atman*, purusa*) and matter (prakrti*). Spirit is essentially the locus of consciousness and bliss, and is impervious to substantial change; matter is essentially insentient, tending to diversification and change. For reasons we need not go into here, spirit and matter come together to produce the distinctive individual which each of us is. This union, though finally dissoluble, is nevertheless a profound one and engenders the separate centres of self- awareness we experience

ourselves to be. This experience is characterised by the congenital illusion which fails to distinguish between the "real" self, that is, the pure spirit, and the "false" or composite self (matter-cum- spirit). Liberation, the human goal, about which the different schools have different views, necessarily consists in at least the internalised awareness of the distinction between the real self and the false self. So long as this enlightened knowledge is not attained, each of us repeatedly dies and

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is physically reborn as a continuum of different personalities, each reborn individual being determined as to nature and life situation by the resultant of the continuum's past ego- centred KARMA (i.e., meritorious and unmeritorious action). This process of karma and rebirth is beginningless for each individual and may continue indefinitely. It is terminated by enlightenment, and at death the enlightened soul is liberated from the wheel of rebirth.

This basic model of human personhood is delineated in the Caraka Samhita *. 52 The quotations that follow are taken from a philosophical section of this treatise called the Sarirasthana *. It was typical of the integral outlook of the Hindu mind that a medical text also contained discussions on the nature of the human subject. The Hindus believed that a physician could not effectively minister to the body unless he

viewed it in the perspective of the spirit.

In the section mentioned, the following description of the spirit or atman's * essential nature is given as the evidently acceptable one: "Those who know the atman* say that it is actionless, self- dependent, sovereign, all- pervading, and omnipresent; that it has conscious control over the body (that is, is a ksetrajna*) and witnesses its doings."53 Later the inner self (antaratman*) of the human person is described as essentially "eternal, free from disease, free from old

age, deathless, free from decay; it cannot be pierced, cut or agitated. It takes all forms, performs all actions, is unmanifest, beginningless, endless and immutable."54 In answer to how it is then that, in the human subject, the atman* (as described above) seems to manifest the contrary characteristics, viz., being a limited agent, mortal, dependent upon bodily functions, changeable, and so on, we are told that this false appearance of the atman* results from the atman's* union with

matter (in the form of the body). The body, for its part, is described as, "the support of the conscious principle, constitutive of the totality of modifications of the five elementals (which make up matter), and maintaining the harmonious conjunction (of its parts)."55 Ensoulment, and Consciousness in the Womb

With this traditional Hindu view of human personhood in mind, let us consider now, in the context of the distinction between human being and human person and its implications for abortion, what the classical texts have to say about the nature of human conception and the development of the embryo. Here we seem to be confronted with two traditionswhat we may call a "major" (because of its apparently weightier authority) and a "minor" (which, in contrast to the

major, seems to rely on weaker evidence). Focusing on the major tradition first, there follows a description of what happens at conception, taken from the section entitled "Descent (of the

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spirit) into the womb" of the Caraka Samhita : "Conception occurs when intercourse takes place in due season between a man of unimpaired semen and a woman whose generative organ, (menstrual) blood and womb are unvitiatedwhen, in fact, in the event of intercourse thus described, the individual soul (jiva) descends into the union of semen and (menstrual) blood in the womb in keeping with the (karmically produced) psychic disposition (of the embryonic matter)."56 This seems to mean that conception coincides with the "descent" or

presence of the spirit in the wombthat from the beginning the embryo is the spirit- matter composite that constitutes the human person. There seems to be no scope according to this seminal authority for drawing the distinction between human being and human person, with the implication that abortion at some early stage of pregnancy may be permissible,

In the minor tradition, however, the soul unites with the embryo some time AFTER conception. Here, it seems that grounds do exist for drawing a distinction between human being (the embryo before the union with the soul) and human person (the embryo after the union). The minor tradition is (perhaps uniquely) expressed in the Garbha Upanisad* (circa 2d-3d century C. E .? ), a

minor Upanisad* and hardly a recognised authority in such matters. The Garbha Upanisad* has it that soul and embryo unite in the seventh month after conception:

As a result of intercourse in due season, the embryo forms in the space of a night; within seven nights a bubble forms, in the period of a fortnight, there is a lump and by a month this becomes hard. In two months the head develops, in three months the region of the feet, and in the fourth month the ankles, stomach, and loins form. In the fifth month, the

back and spine form; in the sixth month, nose, eyes, and ears develop. In the seventh month, (the foetus) is joined to the soul, and in the eighth month it is complete in every (part).57

It is important to point out that neither the Garbha Upanisad*, in particular, nor the minor tradition, in general, ever explicitly draws a distinction analogous to that between human being and human person described earlier, either with or without reference to abortion. We cannot derive any conclusions about the permissiblity of abortion, therefore, from any argument which refers specifically

to a time lapse between conception and ensoulment, based on the minor tradition.

But, it may be objected, one does not need to appeal to this kind of argument in the attempt to make a case for the permissibility of (early) abortion in our context. For if it can be shown that even according to the major tradition it is only relatively late in pregnancyif at allthat the mark of ensoulment, viz., conscious experience, occurs, then it can be argued that BEFORE the appearance of this sign only the NECESSARY (not the

Page 55 sufficient) condition obtains for personhood in the embryo. In this instance, abortion may be permissible for reasons and in situations acknowledgedly not valid if and when the SUFFICIENT condition (viz., consciousness) does apply.

This is our cue for examining the evidence, in the classical tradition, as to whether the embryo/ foetus has conscious experience or not. In fact, it was commonly believed that, at least in a relatively advanced stage of pregnancy, there is conscious experience in the womb. This awareness is invariably connected with the so-called garbha- duhkha * or

sufferings of residence in the womb. The Visnu* Purana* says:

An individual soul (jantu), possessing a subtle body (sukumaratanu*), resides in his mother's womb (garbha), which is imbued with various sorts of impurity (mala). He stays there being folded in the membrane surrounding the foetus (ulba). . .. He experiences severe pains . . . tormented immensely by the foods his mother takes. . .. Incapable of extending (prasarana*) or contracting (akunicana*) his own limbs and reposing amidst a mud of faeces and urine, he is in every way incommoded. He is unable

to breathe. Yet, being endowed with consciousness (sacaitanya) and thus calling to memory many hundreds (of previous) births, he resides in his mother's womb with great pains, being bound by his previous deeds.58 The Garbha Upanisad* elaborates on one aspect of this painful experience:

Now (when the foetus) is complete in every aspect, it remembers its past births. Action pertains to what is done and not done, and (the foetus) thinks upon its good and bad deeds. Having surveyed (previous births from) thousands of different wombs, (it thinks): "Thus have I enjoyed various foods and suckled various teats. Again and again both the living and the dead are reborn. Alas! I am sunk in this ocean of sorrow and see no remedy. Whatever I've done, good or bad, for those

about mel alone must suffer the consequences, for they've gone on their way, suffering the fruits (of their own deeds). If ever I escape the womb I'll study the Samkhyta- Yoga* which destroys evil and confers the reward of liberation. If ever I escape the womb I'll abandon myself to Siva* who destroys evil and confers the reward of liberation."59

But the trauma of birththe squeezing in the vaginal passage and the impact of the air outside the mother's body (the so-called Vaisnava* Wind)erases all memories and stupefies (balakarana : makes a child of!) the newborn.60 The Susruta Samhita* is more specific as to when consciousness develops in the womb:

In the first month (after conception) the embryo is formed, in the second ... there results a compact mass. If this is globular (pinda*), it's a male,

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if longish (pesi ) it's a female. .. . In the third month, five protuberances appear for the hands, legs and head, while the division of the other bodily limbs and sections is hardly visible (suksma). In the fourth month, the division of these other limbs and sections appears clearly, while awareness as a distinct category (cetanadhatu*) manifests itself in relation to the appearance of the foetus' heart. . .. Also in the fourth month, the foetus expresses

desires in respect of sense-objects. . .. In the fifth month the coordinating sense (manas) becomes more aware, and in the sixth the intellect (buddhi) is manifest. In the seventh month, the division of the bodily limbs and sections is more defined; in the eighth month the life-force (ojas) concentrates. . .. In one or other of the ninth, tenth, eleventh, or twelfth months, birth takes place, or else (the pregnancy) is void.61

Note that nothing is said here to indicate that in its development the embryo undergoes a quantum leap, passing from one kind of human moral status (human being) to another (human person). On the contrary, in characteristic Hindu fashion, the language here is in terms of progressive MANIFESTATION, of a personhood previously only latent rather than origination of personhood ab initio.62 The Susruta* Samhita* confirms this conclusion when, after describing the development of the foetus, it observes in the face of opposing views that the foetus undergoes an all-round (rather than sporadic) development

from the very beginning.63 For its part, the Caraka Samhita* implies that the conscious principle is active in the fertilised egg, directing its growth, right from conception.64 Thus, in respect of the development of the unborn, the language of the manifestation of consciousness in traditional Hinduism cannot be and never has been taken to refer to qualitatively different moral statuses of the embryo/foetus. There is no scope here then for arguing for abortion in a traditional context.

The same stricture applies to the minor tradition, notwithstanding the time lapse it introduces between conception and ensoulment.65 This hiatus, too, has never been used to distinguish qualitatively, in a moral sense, between one stage of the embryo and another, with or without abortion in mind. So, as noted before, we can deduce nothing positively concerning the permissibility of abortion on the basis of this hiatus. In point of fact, the overriding evidence of the classical texts as a whole speaks in favour of according the status of human

personhood to the unborn throughout pregnancy, with consequent implications for (the impermissibility of) abortion, except in extreme circumstances (see earlier). Other reasons, embracing both traditions, can be adduced for the standard view on abortion. Linguistic Evidence There is the argument from the negative evidence of the linguistic terms used to describe different stages in the development of the embryo.66

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At no stage in pregnancy is the embryo/ foetus designated by a particular term so as to indicate in any way that it is susceptible of abortion for reasons not obtaining when the embryo/ foetus is differently designated. Further, while it is invariably some compound containing bhruna * (embryo/ foetus) which is used to express the reprehensible act of abortion in the literature, bhruna* is never used, to the best of

my knowledge, as a recognised term for designating a particular stage in the development of the embryo. Thus, there is no linguistic evidence to enforce a distinction positing different moral statuses in the unborn, or by implication, favouring abortion. Karma and Rebirth

Another reason which made abortion unacceptable in traditional Hinduism was the belief in karma and rebirth, outlined earlier. This belief, in one or other of its variants, was firmly implanted in the Hindu psyche from very early times and had far- reaching consequences for Hindu practice. It militated against abortion, in that abortion could be regarded as thwarting the unfolding of the karma of both the unborn and the perpetrator(s) of the act.

The unborn's karma matures through its prenatal and postnatal experiences, and abortion unnaturally terminates the possibility of this maturation. Abortion thus gravely affected the outworking of a person's destiny, the more so since it is generally believed that it was as a human being that one could act most effectively to achieve liberation from rebirth.67

An objection may be raised here. Why could not abortion be permissible as itself (unwittingly) predetermined by karma? The Hindus countered this objection by maintaining that the experience of free choice was not an illusion, that the law of karma did not abrogate the laws of dharma, of right living in accordance with freedom and responsibility. In other words, deliberate abortion as a free act violates dharma and, as such, is reprehensible. In Hindu tradition, the real distinction between "timely" and "untimely"

death was recognised. If this distinction did not apply, if everything that happened (abortion included) could indiscriminately be put down to the predetermined unfolding of the karmic law, there would be no place for free, responsible action, and the law of karma, which is based on such action, would itself be subverted. Caraka considers the issue raised by the objection and answers:

If all life-spans were fixed (willy- nilly by the power of karma, abortion notwithstanding), then in search of good health none would employ efficacious remedies or verses, herbs ... oblations ... fastings ... There would be no disturbed, ferocious, or ill- mannered cattle, elephants ... and the like ... no anxiety about falling from mountains or (into) rough, impassable waters; and none whose minds were negligent. . .. NO VIOLENT ACTS, NO ACTIONS OUT OF PLACE OR UNTIMELY (SUCH AS ABORTION). ..

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For the occurrence of these and the like would not (freely) cause death if the term of all life were fixed and predetermined. Also, the fear of untimely death would not beset those creatures who did not practise the means for fending off fear of untimely death. Undertaking to employ the stories and thoughts of the great seers regarding the prolongation of life would be senseless. Even Indra could not (choose to) slay with his thunderbolt an enemy whose life span was fixed. 68

Though a number of philosophical questions are begged in this passage, the point is that the decrees of karma and the freedoms of dharma were not regarded as incompatible in Hindu thought. Thus one could not justify abortion as the instrument of karma in the face of the clear condemnations of dharma. The Embryo: A Symbol of Life

Again, the embryo in the womb was sacrosanct because it was a potent symbol of a dominant motif regulating the traditional Hindu view of lifethat of birth, regeneration, new life, immortality. The theme of the primeval egg of creation from which the world of plurality emerges is a popular one in Hindu folklore. For example, we read in the Mbh .: "When all this (universe) was (originally) darkness, unillumined, covered on

all sides by obscurity, the Great Egg arose, the sole imperishable seed of creatures. They say that at the beginning of an age this is the great, divine cause, and that on which (it rests) is revealed as the true Light, the eternal Brahman."69 There are a number of variants of this image of the egg of creation in the scriptural texts.70 The Satapatha* Brahmana* informs us that in certain rituals the initiate was compared or associated

with an embryo, no doubt because the latter was suggestive of new birth or life.71 In the light of this symbolism, we can see why abortion was generally condemned in traditional Hinduism. Social and Religious Reasons

A more practical reason for safeguarding the life of the embryo stemmed from the social and religious need to produce, especially male, offspring. Since Hindu society was, in the main, patriarchal, male progeny, in particular, were necessary not only to maintain social and economic stability (by a proper functioning of the caste system) but also for religious purposes (the performance of the priestly and

domestic ritual, especially the sraddha* rite to ensure that deceased parents entered a satisfactory postmortem existence). Great store was laid by the birth of a son (or sonsthere was security in numbers) for this latter purpose.

In fact, the need to produce offspring for these reasons determined to a large extent the attitude of traditional (male- dominated) Hindu society to women. Women fulfilled their role by being wives and mothers, i.e., child-

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bearers and child- rearers. The following quotations from the MnS, a seminal law text of our period, show the interplay of some of the ideas noted above: 1. "The husband, having entered his wife, is born here as an embryo, for that is the wifehood of the wife that he is born again of her"; 2. "As is he to whom a wife cleaves, so is the offspring.

Therefore one should protect one's wife with care for the purity of one's progeny"; 3. "Women were made for child- bearing, men for continuing the line, hence public rites are enjoined in the Veda are to include the wife." 72

A special point to note here is that the production of children was a public duty, rather than a purely individual expression of parental rights and choices. Indeed, one of the traditional debts the householder owed society was maintaining society's numbers by continuing the line in accordance with dharma. It would be unHindu, therefore, to regard procreation and concomitant issues (such as abortion) as a private concern of mother (or family) alone. One can understand

how in this whole context thenthat of the social, economic and religious issuesabortion, in general, was condemned. Ahimsa*

Finally, we may mention the influence of the principle of ahimsa* or non-injury in Hindu tradition as a factor militating against the performance of abortion. While it is true that in Hinduism, in general, this principle never enjoyed the unambivalent status it had in the Jaina and Buddhist traditions (the Bhagavad- Gita*, for instance, may be regarded as a defence of just war undertaken out of selfless duty), it still exerted a powerful influence on the Hindu

mind with reference to particularly vulnerable forms of life, such as the embryo. Revitalised in contemporary times by the example of M. K. Gandhi, this principle traditionally applied to all living (especially breathing) beings. It had a twofold aspect: negative, that is, avoiding violence in thought and deed; and positive, being well- disposed towards, in thought and deed.

Since abortion entailed the inflicting of (mental and) physical violence to the point of death on the unborn person, it flew in the face of the ingrained Hindu reverence for (the seed of) life. It ran counter to the Hindu genius to empathise and harmonise with natural forces and processes rather than to exploit and dominate them. This is a main

feature of the rationale underlying ahimsa *. VI. Conclusion Let us now conclude this chapter by summing up the main points of our study and by a brief comment on the contemporary scene in Hindu India. We begin by noting that this study has proceeded by way of a return

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to the sources. We have analysed our topic on the basis of orthodox Hindu Sanskrit texts falling within what has been described as the classical period, from an historical and philosophical point of view. What has been considered is the official teaching of the code- makers. No claim is being made that this study is significant sociologically for conclusions to be drawn, one way or another, as to what was really believed/

practised concerning abortion by other nonregulative sections of the Hindu society of the times. Further, while it is true that this essay has not made use of modern relevant data, a textual treatment such as this is necessary, I submit, for the modern debate that is already emerging. 73 For it is typically Hindu to debate an important issue for life with reference to its traditional religious and moral roots. I venture to say that the topic of this essay has

rarely, if ever, had the benefit of the study brought to bear here.

We may conclude from our study then, that from earliest times, especially in the formative classical period described, both in canonical and collaborative orthodox Hindu literature, abortion (viz., deliberately caused miscarriage as opposed to involuntary miscarriage) at any stage of pregnancy, has been morally condemned as violating the personal integrity of the unborn, save when it was a question of preserving the mother's life. No other

consideration, social or otherwise, seems to have been allowed to override this viewpoint.

After outlining the traditional Hindu model of human personhood, we analysed the reasons for this stance on abortion and the moral status of the unborn. Irrespective of the moment of ensoulment in the womb, no distinction seems to have been made or enforced in the literature analogous to the human being/human person distinction in some western discussions with its bearing on the permissibility of (at least early)

abortion. In other words, de facto, Hindu tradition has always accorded personal moral status to the embryo/ foetus throughout pregnancy. Other reasons converge in shaping the accredited view: advanced conscious experience in the developed foetus; the absence of linguistic evidence endorsing the abortability of the embryo at one point in pregnancy rather than at another; the implications

of the law of karma and rebirth; the dominant influence of the egg/seed motif as suggestive of new life; the need to preserve caste, line, and race, not to mention family; the importance of ensuring a good post- mortem existence for deceased parents by the performance of the sraddha* rite; and the reverence for the principle of ahimsa *.

Note that these are not only rational reasonssocial, religious, and cultural factors, in general, have played a large part in shaping the traditional Hindu attitude to the unborn. And so it must be in the formation of a genuinely human response. The point is that the classical attitude has grown in a distinctive cultural context and that the modern response to the issue

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under consideration will also grow out of that context, as well as be determined by the contemporary Indian context. One cannot argue simplistically, as some moralists would have it, that only timeless rational (as opposed to more widely cultural) factors should be brought to bear in this matter. In any case, what counts for the cogency of purely rational reasons/ arguments for any people/group is often itself culturally determined.

The Hindu attitude to abortion and the unborn is the result of a rich cultural matrix. It will continue to be so determined in the present and the future and only as such can contribute distinctively to the discussion on the topic in the world at large. In this respect, the traditional Hindu stress on the wider social and moral obligations attaching to pregnancy (not excluding those to the child-to-be and the father), rather than the making of pregnancy a

matter exclusively of individual rights (especially of the mother), must be noted. 74

Modern India, a secular democracy, permits abortion by law, under certain circumstances. No doubt this is a law availed of by some. Yet it is true to say that the issues relating to the moral status of the unborn and abortion have neither been aired nor even properly identified, in general, in Indian minds and literature. In public, the topic is by and large taboo. Illegal abortionists in the back street or the bush continue to ply their trade, often with dire consequences for their customers. To check

exploitation of one kind or another in this matter, the issue must be thrown open. In this chapter I have not sought to evaluate or to argue for or against any side. Rather, I have provided but a preliminary (and incomplete) historical and analytical study. Others are invited to continue the task. Notes

1. I can illustrate this from my own experience. In preparation for a visit to two well- known universities in India, shortly after completing this chapter, I offered the present topic (among others) to the relevant departments for possible seminars/ public lectures. I was not too surprised to discover that, in both cases, this particular topic was politely singled out for exclusion on "cultural" grounds. It so happened that soon after my

return from India I was to visit a university in Canada and one in the United States. I made the same proposal; in both instances, this topic was singled out for presentation.

2. Unless the context requires otherwise, in this chapter no significant distinction is intended between the terms "embryo" and "foetus". Further, except where it is made clear to the contrary, our discussion applies specifically to the living, human embryo.

3. In theory though not always in practice, the former are more authoritative than the latter.

4. See P. V. Kane's History of Dharmasastra *. Poona: Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute, 1968, vol. 1, pt 1, 2d. ed., pp. 22f.

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5. "In the event of the miscarriage (sramsana ) of the embryo (due observance of the purification ritual should be made for) as many a night as equals the months of pregnancy," garbhamasasama ratrih* sramsane* garbhasya. For the Sanskrit text, see The Gautama- Dharma-Sutra* (WITH THE MITAKSARA*, SANSKRIT COMMENTARY OF HARADATTA), ed. U. Chandra Pandey, Varanasi: Kashi Sanskrit Series, 172, 1966; p. 147. For an English translation, see THE SACRED BOOKS OF THE EAST, vol. 2, trans. G. Bühler, Oxford, 1879, p. xiv. 17. Unless stated otherwise,

all translations from the Sanskrit in this chapter are my own.

6. See Kane, Dharmasastra*, vol. 1, pt 1, 2d. ed., pp. 306f.

7. "In the event of miscarriage of the embryo (garbhasrava*) (the woman) is purified by (due observance of the ritual for) as many nights as correspond to the months (of pregnancy)," :ratribhir* masatulyabhir* garbhasrave* visuddhyati . Sanskrit text from The Manusmrti (with the Manvartha Muktavali* Commentary by Kulluka* Bhatta*), ed. Pandit Gopala Sastri Nene, Benares: Kashi Sanskrit Series, 114, 1935, v. 66, p. 162.

8. See Kane, Dharmasastra*, pp. 421f, esp. p. 443.

9. garbhasrave* masatulya* nisah* suddhes* tu karanam . Sanskrit text from Yajnavalkyasmrti of Yogishwara* Yajnavalkya* with the Mitaksara* Commentary of Vijnaneshwar*, ed. U. Chandra Pandey, Varanasi: Kashi Sanskrit Series, 178, 1967, p. 410.

10. a* caturthad* bhavet sravah* patah* pancamasastayoh . ata urdhvam prasutih* syad* dasaham* sutakam* bhavet. Pandey, Yajnavalkyasmrti* p. 411. The Susruta* Samhita*, a seminal medical authority of our period, and about which more presently, appears to recall an earlier version of this tradition when it says of miscarriage: "Up until the fourth month there would emerge a discharge from the womb'; then, from the fifth and the sixth (month, we can speak of) the fall' of the (now) solidified body": a* caturthat* tato masat* prasraved garbhavicyutih . tatah sthitasarirasya* patah* pancamasastayoh *.

See Susrutasamhita*, trans. by Atrideva, Benares: Motilal Banarsidass, 2d. ed., 1957; Nidanasthana* VIII. 10. p. 254. The rationale is given here, in the context of the traditional Hindu view on the development of the embryo, for describing miscarriage in early pregnancy by "flow" terms and in later pregnancy by "falling/dropping" terms, viz., the more or less liquified state of the embryonic matter.

11. A good example of the conflation of this important distinction, in translation at least, occurs in Kane when he writes, referring to different sources: "Abortion in the first four months of pregnancy .. . is called srava*" and so on. Not "abortion", in fact, but "miscarriage". See Kane, Dharmasastra*, vol. 4, p. 275.

12. visnum* nisiktapam* (Rg* Samhita* VII.36.9) on which Sayana* comments: (this means) "the preserver of the infant-to-be": nisiktasya* garbhasya raksitaram . See also e.g., X. 184.1, under which Sayana glosses: "May Visnu*, the (all-) pervading deity, make the womb a place for the repose of the embryo": visnur* vyapako* devo yonim* garbhadhanasthanam* kalpayatu karotu.

13. Thus in the Caraka Samhita*, a classical medical text to which we shall return, we are informed that Rg* Samhita* X. 184.1 was used to invoke Visnu* in the ceremonies prior to conception (See the jatisutriya* sarirasthana* in The Caraka Samhita* of Agnivesa* (revised by Caraka and Drdhabala*), ed. G. Pandeya,

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Varanasi: Kashi Sanskrit Series, 194, pt. 1, 1969, 11. p. 818). In this respect Visnu * is to be contrasted with Nirrti*, the destroyer of order and life, including the embryo.

14. maricir* dhuman* pravisanu* papmann* udaran* gaccota va* niharan* nadinam* phenan* anu tan* vinasya* bhrunaghni* pusan* duritani* mrksva . See Atharvaveda (Saunaka) with Pada-patha* and Sayanacarya's* Commentary, ed. Vishva Bandhu, Vishveshvaranand Indological Series 14, pt. 2, Hoshiarpur: Vishveshvaranand Vedic Research Institute, 1961, p. 818.

15. For this, see Bloomfield's contribution to the Journal of the American Oriental Society, vol. 14 (under "Proceedings" for March 1894, pp. cxxii-cxxiii).

16. hadbhutam* abhijanitor jayayai* garbham* niravadhid* iti papmakad* iti papi* kirttis* tasmad* dhenvanaduhayor* nasniyat ... III.1.2, vr. 21, from The Satapatha Brahmana* (of the White Yajurveda in the Madhyandina* Recension), ed. Pandit A. Chinnaswami Sastri and Pandit Pattabhirama Sastry, Benares: Kashi Sanskrit Series, 127, 1937, p. 200. It is interesting to note that, even though under IV.4.3. If (ibid., p. 380) the text calls for atonement flit transpires that a pregnant cow has been killed instead of the requisite barren animal in the course of a particular ritual,

there are (rare) instances in the Satapatha* Brahmana* when the sacrificial slaughter of a pregnant cow is required (see V.4.4.8-10, ibid., p. 479, which pertains to the Rajasuya* sacrifice or inauguration of the king. Here, perhaps the exceptional nature of the sacrifice requires an exceptionally symbolic victim. The king, symbolically identified through the sacrifice with the cow embryo, is seen to be the offspring of the land and of his people and thus the rightful inheritor of both).

17. Two of the most despised groups of outcastes.

18. atra pitapita* bhavati, matarnata*, loka* alokah*, deva* adevah*, veda* avedah ; atra stenosteno bhavati, bhrunahabhrunaha*, candalo'* candalah*, paulkaso paulkasah*, sramano*' sramanah*, tapaso*tapasah, ananvagatam* punyena*, ananvagatam* papena*, tirno* hi tada* sarvan* sokan* hrdayasya* bhavati, IV.3.22. From The Principal Upanisads* by S. Radhakrishnan, London: Allen & Unwin, 1953. Here we must note that from very early on in the literature the expressions bhrunahatya* / bhrunahan* came to have two senses: killing an embryo, and killing a Brahmin (also, killer of the embryo/Brahmin). W. Gampert notes in his Die Sühnezeremonien in

der altindischen Rechtsliteratur, Prag: Orientalisches Institut, 1939, pp. 62-3: "Diese Sünde (i.e., Embryotötung) wurde ursprünglich nut mit bhrunahatya* bezeichnet; im Laufe der Zeit erfuhr dieser Ausdruck jedoch eine Erweiterung seiner Bedeutung, indem er auch die Tötung eines Brahmahen, insbesondere eines gelehrten, umfasste. Die Folge davon war, dass eine vollstän-dige Vermischung der beiden Sünden Embryotötung und Brahmanentötung eintrat und es yon da an oft ganz unklar ist, ob bhrunahatya* (bzw. bhrunahan* zur Bezeichnung des Täters) nur die Embryotötung oder auch die Brahmanentütung bezeichnet" (See also ensuing discussion). To go

into reasons for this fusion of meanings would take us too far afield. Gampert himself does not discuss the matter. Sufficient for us to point out that in our own discussion (1) where both senses of the Sanskrit could apply, there are no grounds for saying that the sense which concerns us, viz. "killing/killer of the embryo," is not one of the main senses intended (indeed, the ambiguity may well be deliberate), and (2) instances often occur when there is no ambiguity in meaning, as the context makes clear.

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19. sa yo mam * veda na ha vai tasya kena cana karmana* loko miyate*, na steyena na bhruna- hatyaya*, na matr-vadhena*, na pitr- vadhena . See Radhakrishnan, The Principal Upanisads, p. 774.

20. See La Maha* Narayana* Upanisad*, ed. and trans. J. Varenne, Paris: Publications de l'institut de Civilisation Indienne, 1960, vol. 1: akaryakary* avakirni* steno bhrunaha* gurutalpagah* (159), varuno* apam* aghamarsanas* tasmat* papat* pramucyate (160); ibid., IV.p.44. See also, corasya annam* navasraddham* brahmaha* gurutalpagah* (436), gosteyam* surapanam* bhrunahatyam* tilah* santim* samayantu* svaha* (437); ibid., X.p.104. Note that in the second reference the text

distinguishes between killing the embryo (bhrunahatyam*) and killer of a Brahmin (brahmaha*), so that Varenne may be presuming too much in translating the bhrunaha* of the FIRST reference by "celui qui tue un brahmane" (ibid., p. 45).

21. Ibid,, vol. 1, pt. 1, pp. 112f.

22. yagasthasya* ksatriyasya* vaisyasya* ca rajasvalayas* cantarvatnyas* catrigotrayas* cavijnatasya* garbhasya saranagatasya* ca ghatanam* brahmahatyasamaniti . See the Visnusmrti with the Commentary Kesavavaijayanti* of Nandapandita*, ed. Pandit V. Krishnamacharya, Madras: Adyar Library Series, vol. 93, 1964, pt. 2, p. 478.

23. ViDS V.132: brahmacarivanaprasthabhiksugurvinitirthanusarinam* navikah* saulkikah* sulkam* adadanas* ca; ViDS pt. I, p. 120. The MnS exempts the pregnant woman from the fine for dropping litter. She is let off with a reprimand and is made to clean up the mess! viz., apadgato'thava* vrddha* garbhini* bala* eva va*, paribhasanam* arhanti tac ca sodhyam* iti sthitih *; MnS IX.283.p.325.

24. pantha* deyo brahmanaya* gobhyo rajabhya* eve ca, vrddhaya* bharataptaya* garbhinyai* durbalaya* ca. XIII.107.50; Poona edition.

25. ayam* ca sakala eva sarvasam* strinam* agarbhininam* abalapatyanam* a* candalam* sadharano* dharmah*, Mit, p. 3. Note that the text places even the worst untouchable (a* candalam*) under the general recommendation of con- cremation. Untouchables were not necessarily beyond the pale of dharma.

26. purnam* iva tailapatram* asamksobhayata'ntarvatni* bhavaty upacarya*, Pandeya: Caraka Samhita* p. 825, vr. 22; See also the jatisutriya* section of the Sarirasthana *.

27. bhrunahani* hinavarnasevayam* ca stri* patati, GauDS p. 214.

28. Kane: Dharmasastra* vol. 1, pt. 1, pp. 53f.

29. atha pataniyani : steyam abhisastyam purusavadho* brahmojjham* garbhasatanam* matuh* pitur iti yonisambandhe sahapatye* strigamanam* surapanam* asamyogasamyogah . See the Apastamba Dharmasutra* (with the Commentary Ujjwala by Sri* Haradatta Misra*), ed. Pandit A. Chinnaswami Sastri and Pandit A. Ramanatha Sastri, Benares: Kashi Sanskrit Series, 93, 1932, I.7.21.7-8, p. 117. Haradatta comments: "abortion' here means killing the embryo by the use of herbs etc.": ausadhadiprayogena* garbhasya vadho garbhasatanam *.

30. pasandam* asritanam* ca carantinam* ca kamatah*, garbhabhartrdruham* caiva surapinam* yositam*, MnS V.90.p.168. The commentator says of these, udakakriyaurdhvadaihikam* nivarteta ...

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31. Under YjS II.236; the Mit. makes this 100 panas , glossing the YjS's satadandabhak by panasatam* dandarha *; see Mit., p. 254.

32. sastravapate* garbhasya patane* cottamo damah*, uttamo vadhamo* vapi* purusastripramapane : "The highest punishment is due for unjury with a weapon and for abortion; the highest or the lowest (depending on circumstances) for the murder of a man or a woman." According to the Mit., the latter half of this statement means that "the highest or lowest punishment due is fixed for the murder of a man or a woman depending upon the virtue, conduct, and so on of the individual concerned:" purusasya striyas* ca pramapane* silavrttadyapeksyottamo* vadhamo* va* dando* vyavasthita veditavyah ; Mit. II.277. For further information about guilt and expiation relating to abortion, see Gampert: Sühnezeremonien Note that the kind of penalty incurred in the texts for abortion is different from the kind of penalty attaching to miscarriage. In the case

of miscarriage, the woman only becomes ritually impure (see notes 5, 7, 9); the abortionist, however, is punished as a WRONGDOER (see passim) with one exception (to be noted in due course).

33. Mit. II.277, pp. 267-8.

34. See note 32.

35. yathoktavadinam* dutam* ksetradharmarato* nrpah*, yo hanyat* pitaras tasya bhrunahatyam* avapnuyuh *. See also, e.g., Mbh. XII.20.8.

36. abhikamam* striyam* yas tu gamyam* rahasi yacitah*, nopaiti sa ca dharmesu* bhrunahety* ucyate buddhaih. Mbh. I.78.33. See also I.78.32.

37. karsnam* vedam imam* vidvan* sravayitvartham* asnute*, bhrunahatyakrtam* capi* papam* jahyan* na samsayah *. Mbh. I.1.205. See also I.56.18.

38. evam* caiva narasrestha* raksya* eva dvijatayah*, svaparaddhan* api hi tan* visayan* te samutsrjet, abhisastam* api hy esam* krpayita* visampate*, brahmaghne gurutalpe ca bhrunahatye* tathaiva ca. Mbh. XII.56.31-2. Note, in reference to note 18, that here, too, a clear distinction is made between slaying the Brahmin and slaying the embryo.

39. ajnatam* dhrtarastrasya* yatnena mahata* tatah*, sodaram* patayamasa* gandhari* duhkhamurcchita . tato jajne mamsapesi* lohasthileva* samhata* Mbh. I.107.11-12a. Note the use of the causative patayamasa* (caused [the foetus] to fall). Gandhari's* is a deliberate act, but in view of the mitigating circumstance of her desperation, this less harsh expression is used for abortion in contrast to the unvarnished bhrunahatya *.

40. sa* sicyamana* asthila* abhavac chatadha* tada*, angusthaparvamatranam* garbhanam* prthag* eva tu. Mbh. I.107.19.

41. See notes 19, 20, 29.

42. See under Abortion: Moral Evaluation in Smrti* (B).

43. See note 25 which pertains to ALL, wives, including the Candala*, EXCEPT those who are pregnant or have young children to care for.

44. nato'nyat* kastamam* asti yaya* mudhagarbhasalyoddharanam*, atra hi ... karma kartavyam* sparsena* ... ekahastena garbham* garbhinim* cahimsata ; Atrideva: Susrutasamhita, "Cikitsasthana*" XV.3, p. 448.

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45. jivati tu garbhe sutikagarbhanirharane * prayateta; ibid., su *. 5.

46. daryamano* hi (garbho) jananim* atmanam* caiva ghatayet . avisahye vikare* tu sreyo* garbhasya patanam*, na garbhinya* viparyasas* tasmat* praptam* na hapayet *; ibid., su *. 10-11.

47. Note the term used, patanam* (causing the fall of the foetus), not bhrunahatya* (slaying the embryo) and the like, to indicate that this deed is had recourse to only in extreme circumstances. It is unjustified then to diminish the gravity of abortion for Susruta* by stating, as in the following extract, that he "recommends" abortion for a wider range of cases: " ... Susruta* recommends abortion in certain cases. When the foetus is known to be defective, or damaged

beyond repair, and there is no hope for a normal birth, surgical removal is prescribed. . .. Craniotomic operations, involving the destruction and subsequent removal of the foetus, are prescribed in certain cases of this nature"; Susruta* Samhita* (A Scientific Synopsis) by P. Ray, H. Gupta and M. Roy, New Delhi: Indian National Science Academy, 1980, p. 22. Such laisser- aller cannot be justified textually.

48. In this light, it is interesting to consider reference 17 in the text.

49. kulaksaye* pranasyanti* kuladharmah* sanatanah*, dharme naste* kulam* krtsnam* adharmo'bhibhavaty uta. adharmabhibhavat* krsna* pradusyanti* kulastriyah*, strisu* dustasu* varsneya* jayate* varnasamkarah . samkaro narakayaiva* kulaghnanam* kulasya ca, patanti pitaro hy esam* luptapindodakakriyah . dosair etaih kulaghnanam* varnasamkarakarakaih*, utsadyante* jatidharmah* kuladharmas* ca sasvatah . utsannakuladharmanam manusyanam* janardana*, narake niyatam* vaso* bhavatity* anususruma . Mbh. (Poona edition) VI.23.40-44. Elsewhere in the Mbh., Bhisma says to (king) Yudhisthira : "He who would seek the death of the king should die an exemplary deathso too the Ajivaka, the thief and the miscegener": rajno* vadham* cikirsed* yas tasya citro

vadho bhavet, ajivakasya* stenasya varnasamkarakasya* ca. XII.86.21.

50. See, e.g., MnS X. If. For a fuller discussion see Kane, Dharmasastra* vol. 2, pt. 2, 2d. ed., ch. 2, pp. 50-104.

51. The same protection was extended to the embryo of an adulterous union, as we see from the following: "In the event of adultery, purity (of the woman occurs) in her season (viz., during the menses, if she has not conceived). If she is with child, she is to be abandoned; (similarly) when a woman slays the embryo or her husband or (commits some other) grave transgression": vyabhicarad* rtau* suddhir* garbhe tyago* vidhiyate ; garbhabhartrvadhadau ca tatha* mahati patake *. YjS I.72, p. 28. The juxtaposition of adultery and abortion above does not exclude condemnation of the latter when it was the consequence of the former.

52. The Caraka Samhita* is said to contain the substance of a comprehensive medical teaching given by the god Indra to a group of seers. One of these, Atreya* Punarvasu, committed the teaching to six disciples, of whom one again, Agnivesa*, composed a treatise of the teaching. Caraka, finally, figures as the authoritative redactor of Agnivesa's* text. His work, the Caraka Samhita*, which is said to have been unfinished, was apparently later revised and completed

by another savant, Drdhabala . The text itself proceeds, for the most part, by way of a discourse between Atreya Punarvasu, Agnivesa*, and others. Though the received Caraka- Drdhabala* version is usually dated between 200-500 C.E., there seems to be no doubt that it represents a medical tradition whose roots dig far deeper into

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the past. There is much scholarly dispute concerning the roles Caraka, Drdhabala , and perhaps others have played in constructing the received Samhia, but for our purposes this debate is irrelevant. Suffice it to say that the Caraka Samhita* embodies the standard Hindu outlook of the classical period on the conception, nature, and development of the human foetus. For a resume and a bibliography of the origin

and composition of the Caraka Samhita*, see M. G. Weiss's contribution, "Caraka Samhita* on the doctrine of Karma," in Karma and Rebirth in Classical Indian Traditions, ed. W. D. O'Flaherty, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1980, pp. 93-4.

53. niskriyam* ca svatantram* ca vasinam* sarvagam* vibhum*, vadanty atmanam* atmajnah* ksetrajnam* saksinam* tatha . Pandeya, Caraka Samhita, ch. 1, su *. 5, p. 690.

54. garbhatma* hy antaratma . .. tam ... acaksate sasvatam* arujam ajaram amaram aksayam* abhedyam acchedyam alodyam* visvarupam ** avyaktam anadim* anidhanam aksaram* api. Pandeya, Caraka Samhia*, ch. 3, su *. 8, p. 743.

55. tatra sariram* nama* cetanadhisthanabhutam* pancamahabhutavikarasamudayatmakam* samayogavahi . Pandeya, Caraka Samhita ch. 6, su . 4, p. 787. "The five elementals" are the fundamental forms of earth, water, fire, air, and ether con- stitutive of prakrti or the material principle which unfolds from its subtle, un-manifest state into the material world as we experience it.

56. purusasyanupahataretasah* striyas* capradustayonisonitagarbhasayaya* yada* bhavati samsargah* rtukale*, yada* canayos* tathayukte* samsarge* sukrasonitasamsargam* antargarbhasayagatam* jivo'vakramati* sattvasamprayogat* tada* garbho'bhinirvartate. Pandeya, Caraka Samhia* ch. 3, su *. 3, p. 737. "in due season": in the law texts, intercourse was permitted from the third/fourth day after the appearance of the menses till the sixteenth day. "The union of semen and (menstrual) blood": it was believed that the procreative factor from the woman's side was the menstrual blood. For a discussion of the symbolism/ interplay of procreative terms and elements in traditional Hinduism, see W. D. O'Flaherty, "Sexual Fluids," in Women, Androgynes, and Other Mythical Beasts, Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press, 1980, ch. 2.

57. rtukale* prayogad* ekaratrositam* kalilam* (kalalam ? ) bhavati, saptaratrositam budbudam* bhavaty, ardhamasabhyantarena* pindo* bhavati, masabhyantarena* kathino* bhavati, masadvayena* sirah* kurute, masatrayena* padapradeso* bhavaty, atha caturthe mase'ngulyajatharakatipradeso* bhavati, pancame* mase* prsthavamso* bhavati, sasthe* mase* nasaksinisrotrani* bhavanti, saptame mase* jivena* samyukto* bhavaty, astame* mase* sarvasampurno* bhavati. See, "The Garbha Upanisad*" in the Anandasrama* Sanskrit Series, vol. 29, 1895, p. 161. "(the foetus) is joined to the soul": thus, jivena* samyukto* bhavati. But the commentator, Narayana*, glosses this as: Jivalifigena* (samyukto .. .), i.e., is joined TO THE MARK of the soulwhich is consciousness. If this interpretation is correct, then the implication is that CONSCIOUSNESS, not ensoulment, occurs in the seventh month. Ensoulment may well have taken place at conception. In this event, the minor tradition collapses into the major.

58. Quoted from Minoru Hara, "A Note on the Buddha's Birth Story," in Indianisme et Bouddhisme (Melanges* offerts à Mgr. Étienne Lamotte), Louvain-la- Neuve: Publications de l'institut Orientaliste de Louvain, 23, 1980, pp. 148-9. Hara gives another quotation, to similar effect, from the Garuda* Purana *; p. 151.

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59. atha ... sarvalaksanasampurno * bhavati purvajatih* smarati. krtakrtam* ca karma bhavati subhasubham* ca karma vindati. nanayonisahasrani* drstva* caiva tato maya*, ahara* vividha* bhuktah* pitas* ca vividhah* stanah . jatasyaiva mrtasyaiva* janma caiva punah* punah*, aho duhkhodadhau* magno na pasyami* pratikriyam . yan maya parijanasyarthe* krtam* karma subhasubham* ekaki* tena dahyami* gatas* te phalabhoginah . yadi yonyam pramuncami* samkhyam* yogam* samabhyaset, asubhaksayakartaram* phalamuktipradayinam . yadi yonyam pramuncami* tam* prapadye mahesvaram*, asubhaksayakartaram* phalamuktipradayinam *. Garbha Upanisad : Anandasrama p. 162-3. The foetus' rueing of rebirth and of the deeds perpetuating it, as also the resolution to take steps

to avoid the process, is a recurrent theme in popular Sanskrit literature. See Hara for more examples.

60. See Hara, "Buddha's Birth Story," esp. pp. 149f.

61. tatra prathame masi* kalalam* jayate ; dvitiye ... (abhiprapacyamananam mahabhutanam) samghato* ghanah* samjayate . yadi pindah puman*, stri* cet pesi* ... trtiye* hastapadasirasam* pancapindaka* nirvartante'ngapratyangavibhagas* ca suksmo* bhavati. caturthe sarvangapratyangavibhagah* pravyakto bhavati, garbhahrdayapravyaktibhavac* cetanadhatur* abhivyakto bhavati .. . garbhas* caturthe masy* abhiprayam* indriyarthesu* karoti . .. (su . 18). pañcame manah pratibuddhataram* bhavati, sasthe* buddhih . saptame sarvangapratyangavibhagah pravyaktatarah*, astame'sthiri* bhavaty ojah . navamadasamaikadasadvadasanam anyatam asmin jayate*, ato'nyatha* vikaribhavati . su . 30; Atrideva: Susrutasamhita, Sarirasthana, ch. 3, pp. 299 & 301, "in relation to the appearance of the foetus' heart": it was believed that the heart was the bodily abode of consciousness. The Caraka Samhita* does not differ substantially in its description of embryonic development. Hara, "Buddha's Birth Story," p. 154, ft. nt. 49, points out that in the Puranas* it was generally held that foetal consciousness appeared from the seventh to the ninth month and notes (p. 157, ft. nt. 71) that the first reference "in

Sanskrit literature to prenatal experience and memory of previous births is found in Rig Veda 4.27.1 (Vamadeva*), and Aitareya Upanisad* 4.6." There is some doubt concerning the interpretation of the Rg* Vedic reference as bearing on the memory of previous births.

62. Note the frequency in the Sanskrit (see note 61) of terms intimating a transition from an unmanifest to a manifest state: suksma*, pravyakta, abhivyakta. Also, there is nothing in this extract of the so-called preformation theoryinfluential in the West in the 17th centuryaccording to which the fertilised egg was an homunculus, or miniature human, complete with tiny arms, legs, head, and so on who simply grew in size as pregnancy progressed.

63. "All the limbs and sections of the body grow simultaneously' says Dhanvantari (Susruta's* reputed teacher)": sarvany* angapratyangani* yugapat sambhavantity* aha* dhanvantarih . Atrideva: Susruta Samhita*, su . 32, p. 302. The Caraka Samhita has it that "the senses, limbs and members (of the embryo) develop simultaneously": evam asyendriyany* angavayavas* ca yaugapadyenabhinirvartante . Sarirasthana, ch. 4, su *. 14, p. 762.

64. "There (in the fertilised egg) the conscious principle with the coordinating sense as its instrument, is already working towards the realisation of the (various) qualities (of the individual)": tatra purvam* cetanadhatuh* sattvakarano* gunagrahanaya* pravartate . . .. Sarirasthana*, ch. 4, su *. 8, p. 759.

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65. But note our comment on Narayana's * gloss in note 57.

66. Hara, "Buddha's Birth Story," p. 154, gives a standard list, apparently mainly of Buddhist origin.

67. In theory, the different versions of the rebirth belief allowed for a person's rebirth, on the one hand, in animal and plant form, on the other, as celestials or gods (devas). In practice, however, the various texts, including the theological treatises of thinkers like Samkara*, Ramanuja*, and Madhva, are preoccupied with the nature, ethics, and destiny of the human person and imply that a qualitative distinction exists between

human and (at least) animal and vegetative life. A corollary of this implication, usually taken for granted and not given due philosophical analysis, is that it is in its human form that the soul can most effectively seek liberation.

68. Quotation taken from M. G. Weiss, "Caraka Samhita* on Karma," p. 95, (see note 52). Emphasis and words in brackets have been added.

69. nisprabhe'smin* niraloke* sarvatas tamasavrte*, brhad* andam* abhud* ekam* prajanam* bijam* aksayam . yugasyadau nimittam* tan mahad divyam* pracksate*, yasmims* tac chruyate* satyam* jyotir brahma sanatanam *. Mbh. I.1.27-8.

70. See, e.g., Satapatha* Brahmana* XI.1.6, 1-2; VI. 1.2., 1-2; Maitri* Up., vi. 8; MnS I.8f.

71. E.g., Satapatha* Brahmana* III.1.3.28, where the sacrificial fire becomes the womb (yoni) of the sacrifice, and the initiate (diksita*) the embryo (garbha); pp. 203-4, Pt. I.

72. 1. patir bharyam* sampravisya* garbho bhutveha* jayate . jayayas tad dhi jayatvam* yad asya jayate* punah . MnS IX.8, p. 287. Here reference is being made to the "rebirth" of the husband in his progeny. 2. yadrsam bhajate hi stri* sutam* sute* tathavidham*, tasmat* prajavisuddhyartham* striyam* rakset* prayatnatah . MnS IX.9, p. 287. 3. prajanartham striyah* srstah* santanartham* ca manavah*, tasmat* sadharano* dharmah . srutau patnya* sahoditah *. MnS IX.96, p. 298.

73. See, e.g., Veena Das' short but pregnant(!) article, "The Debate on Abortion," in SEMINAR, Nov. 1983, pp. 31-35.

74. In this context, Ms. Das writes: ". . . we have been tricked by modern philosophers into thinking that the morality of abortion involves strictly the relation of a WOMAN to the foetus. In fact this dyadic relationship is embedded into a number of relationships involving not only the responsibility of a genitor to the embryo/ foetus, but also the relationship of adult men and women. Further, this arrangement of relationships involves the rest of

society. Without a discussion of the responsibility of society (either through the State or other agencies) towards the embryo, the foetus, and the infant as also towards those who are charged with caring for them, a discussion on the morality of abortion is incomplete." "Debate on Abortion," p. 34.

Page 71 3. Euthanasia: Traditional Hindu Views and the Contemporary Debate KATHERINE K. YOUNG I. Introduction

The extreme debilitation of advanced old age and severe illness have plagued human beings whose awareness and self-definition encompass both the idea of death and the "marker events" 1 that signal the dying process. How human beings have dealt with such awareness and experience has varied from epoch to epoch, culture to culture, person to person. Heroically living out the natural life span despite suffering, suicide to eliminate the difficult dying process, and murder whether by

compassionate or selfish motives have all been human responses to these phenomena.

The history of the concept of euthanasia is closely associated with human dilemmas involved in advanced old age and severe illness. In classical Greece, the term meant the good death (eu-, good and thanatos, death)2 and referred primarily to the mode of dying,3 an easy or painless death associated with drinking hemlock.4 "In Graeeo- Roman antiquity, there was a generally recognized `freedom to leave' that

permitted the sick and despondent to terminate their lives, sometimes with outside help" (Gruman 1978, 261). Thus, the ancient view of euthanasia in the West was close to suicide, in that it was voluntary and self- imposed, although it may have been abetted, especially through provision of poison. Trowell, for example, thinks that some physicians in the Roman empire "did assist suicide, and even

murder, by the issue of lethal drugs" and that the "Hippocratic oath and the oath of Asaph arose as protests against this practise" (1973, 8).

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After such Jewish and Christian thinkers as Josephus, Augustine, and Aquinas 5 discouraged the practise of "active" euthanasia with their insistence on the natural life span, the term came to mean an "easy death" by leading a temperate life or by cultivating an acceptance of mortality. In the seventeenth century, however, "with Francis Bacon's Advancement of Learning (1605), `euthanasia' increasingly came to connote specifically measures taken by the

physician, including the possibility of hastening death" (Gruman 1978, 261). It is with the latter definition that the modern debate has emerged. Based on the idea of active intervention, the primary meaning is now compassionate murder (Trowell 1973, 13-22).

There are Western ethicists today who think that compassionate murder may be a moral act. The arguments proceed in a number of ways. Some challenge the Christian idea of the sanctity of life as an absolute principle by arguing that it is a "principle ... valid most of the time (in pluribus), but in a particular instance (in aliquo particulari) it may not be applicable" (Maquire 1973, 195). Some argue that, while human life is a fundamental value and is to be protected, considerations

of the quality of life also are to be entertained. Others challenge the Christian acceptance of suffering for its redemptive value and argue that life must be lived with dignity and comfort, including an easy or painless death. Still others challenge the definition of murder as the "killing of the innocent" and argue that murder is unjust killing; in this way scope is created for euthanasia as just or mercy killing. Then, too, there are ethicists who challenge religious or legal authority to

forbid euthanasia by arguing that each individual is the absolute master of decisions regarding his/ her own destiny.

Ethicists have debated the merits of compassionate murder. The term euthanasia itself has been delimited in recent years to provide greater precision for the discussion at hand, as new medical circumstances emerge or reflection on various issues becomes refined. While the process of legal definition making is far from over, there is a growing consensus in the West that the term euthanasia is to be reserved for the concept of compassionate murder in medically defined cases

of terminal illness, which involves the medical profession in the active killing of the patient given due process of decision making.6 It has been argued that euthanasia is to be distinguished, on the one hand, from homicide (culpable or inculpable) and, on the other hand, from situations of withdrawal of treatment, pain relief that may result in death, abetting suicide, and suicide proper. Hence, greater specificity is being given to the term euthanasia at

the present, though different points are still debated and different legal systems may yet handle the issue in different ways. While it is becoming increasingly common in Western hospitals to accept withdrawal of treatment as a way of hastening death in situations of terminal illness, it is rare to accept such active intervention as

Page 73 administering poison by a physician. 7 Thus, whereas a distinction used to be made between inactive and active euthanasia or between omission and commission, now the distinction is between withdrawal of treatment and euthanasia as compassionate murder. The former is usually permissible in certain circumstances; the latter, even with its new technical restriction, remains largely unacceptable in the West.

This brief overview of the history of the term euthansia suggests that while euthanasia was related to the phenomenon of suicide in the Graeco- Roman world, it is now viewed as closer to murder, which is not to say that the conceptual boundaries of euthanasia in both these periods were not distinguished from the two extremes and in varying degrees invested with legitimacy. The change in the meaning of euthanasia, however, presents certain difficulties

when one takes up the task of historical and cross-cultural studies. If we were to take today's emergent definition of euthanasia, with its technical insistence on medically defined cases of terminal illness and its circumscribed meaning of a doctor actively killing a patient on compassionate grounds, given due process of decision making, then, by definition, we would be hard pressed to find equivalent situations in the past and in other premodern societies. The

contemporary definition excludes a pre- technological approach to medicine, especially the process of dying, not to mention different value systems.

When we turn to reflection on euthanasia in classical India, our task is made possible if we use, for hermeneutical purposes, the archaic meaning of euthanasia as "freedom to leave," which permitted the sick and despondent to terminate their lives. An alternative working definition for this historical study is self- willed death with reference to the extreme debilitation of advanced old age and the seemingly terminal nature of disease. Utilizing these definitions, we have

sufficient scope to discover what were analogies in classical India to euthanasia in the Graeco- Roman world. The classical Indian view remained operant for a number of centuries (unlike the discontinuity in the West regarding the practise and definition of euthanasia). Recovery of the classical Indian view will be a major step in understanding the history of this phenomenon in India, how it differs from the history of euthanasia in the West, and how it may inform the contemporary discussion of

termination of treatment and euthanasia today. Death has been described as a central concern not only of Indian philosophy and religion but also of Indian sociology:

as a source of Indian religious thought, death is probably unsurpassed; no matter which historical period or cultural level one chooses to examine, concepts lead to or from the problems it presents. ... In the social world, if purity and impurity have anything to do with the way Hindus perceive

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and organize it, death is all the more central because it is the single most polluting human experience. And even if the pure/ impure dichotomy is not the organizing principle of Hindu life, an opposition between death and life may be. (Blackburn 1985, 255)

When one approaches the topic of death in the classical Indian context, one encounters three basic types of death: natural, unnatural (being killed), and self- willed (killing oneself).

With reference to natural death we find that there was a strong Brahmanical (Hindu) prescription to live a hundred years or at least to the end of the natural life span. The funeral or sraddha * rites were performed for those who died a natural death. Those men who died naturally became the ancestors who were sustained through the offerings, ostensibly until they were reborn (though the offerings also ensured that they became

gods (visvadeva* ) as part of the process, thereby creating a double buffer against the idea of death as annihilation).

Unnatural death by being killed in battle, by murder or by accident was viewed as violent and not to be marked by sraddha *. Such death, however, was not necessarily perceived negatively, for it will be argued below that violent death, especially that of a warrior killed in battle, was religiously powerful, for it led to heaven or deification. (This idea is echoed even today in contemporary folk cults, which deify victims of murder or accident.)

Besides natural death and unnatural violent death, there also developed an acceptance of some forms of self-willed death. This category of self-willed death included three different types: suicide; what we shall term heroic, voluntary death (mors voluntaria heroica); and religious, self- willed death (mors voluntaria religiosa). By way of introduction, these three types may be distinguished by the following features. Suicide, which was prohibited, was self- willed death

prompted by passion, depression, or uncontrollable circumstance. Mors voluntaria heroica, found mainly in the milieu of the warriors in ancient times, was: (1) a way to avoid calamity, as when a warrior avoided capture and a woman avoided rape or slavery by a conquerer through self- willed death; (2) a substitute for heroic death in battle that resulted in heaven; and (3) a way to allow peaceful succession to the throne. Closely related both historically and conceptually

to heroic, self- willed death was mots voluntaria religiosa. The latter emphasized the religious dimension (heaven, liberation, or dharma: duty and social order based on religious principles). Religious, self-willed death was found outside the warrior milieu, though it drew from this context. Moreover, it was carefully distinguished from suicide, that is, passionate, self-willed death for reasons neither heroic nor religious.

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The Amarakosa , which is written in the early classical period, places the category of death in the semantic domain (varga) of the warriors (Ksatriyas); after citing thirty terms for killing (vadha), it gives ten terms for natural death (marana) and seven terms for dead (mrta*). While there is no term for self- willed death in this text, we shall argue below that reference to suicide, literally one who kills the self (atmahan*), makes its textual appearance in the Upanisads* and early Buddhism and may be related to a critique of heroic, self-

willed death which was beginning to occur in Vedic society. Atmahatya* and atmaghata* become the technical terms for suicide by the late classical period. The technical terms for the category of heroic and religious self- willed death, however, do not emerge until the Indian vernacular languages with the compounds icchamarana* and istamrtyu* (literally death that is willed or desired); nonetheless, the concept, if not the technical term, exists by the time of the Mahabharata :* naisa* mrtyuranisto* no nihsrtanam* grhatsvayam* (for us who

have voluntarily renounced our home, this death [by refusing to escape the forest fire] is not "not willed" (anista*) (MBh. 15.49.26). The implication is that the death is istamrtyu* or [self-] willed death, that is, desired death which is not evil, for the passage goes on to praise dying through fire, water, or wind (i.e. by jumping through air) by a hermit. (See Note 15 below for full discussion of this passage.) The category of istamrtyu* is also foreshadowed in several more specific terms found in classical Sanskrit or early Prakrit,

which literally refer to the mode of dying yet by context indicate self- willed death, which is legitimate unlike suicide which is illegitimate: thus, mahaprasthaina* (setting out on the great journey, departing this life, dying), samadhimarana* (death while in meditation), prayopavesana* (abstaining from food and awaiting in a seating posture the approach of death), and the Jaina equivalent of prayopavesana*, which is called sallekhana *. To these specific terms we may add a number of descriptions that point to the acceptance if not desirability

of self-willed death by burning, drowning, or jumping. Given this evidence of the phenomenon of self-willed death, the heroic and religious dimensions of which will become apparent in this study, introduction of the categories of mots voluntaria heroica and mors voluntaria religiosa as distinguished from suicide are valuable to facilitate the discussion of euthanasia.

The present analysis necessitates an historical treatment to see how these categories developed and where the topic of euthanasia is to be situated in the more general discussion of self-willed death. Different historical periods had very different understandings of the importance of the natural life span and the acceptability of heroic, voluntary death and religious, self-willed death. To illumine these historical vicissitudes with specific reference to the topic of euthanasia, it is necessary to understand not only the major

shifts of the Brahmanical/ Hindu Weltanschauung through the main epochs,

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but also how they related to and are informed by the dynamic interaction with Jainism and Buddhism. To capture the salient features of the evolving view of euthanasia, we shall look primarily to relevant passages in Sanskrit sruti * and smrti* texts, though on several occasions we shall make reference to Jaina and Buddhist works.

Before we begin the historical treatment of our topic, five general observations may be made:

1. Much sympathy was expressed in classical India for euthanasia in the sense of "freedom to leave" by one suffering from a seemingly incurable disease or by one facing very debilitating old age.

2. Accordingly, euthanasia, belonged to the category of self- willed death and was never formally viewed as mercy killing of another person. Once there was a formal public declaration of the intent to perform self-willed death, helping the person was allowed. The individual's choice and willpower to implement it was therefore mandatory when euthanasia was accepted in

the premodern Indian context.

3. The phenomenon of euthanasia was intimately related to the larger categories of heroic and religious self-willed death, which, in turn, were related to the yet broader context of violence and nonviolence in Indian society and religion.

4. Although there was positive evaluation of euthanasia in classical Hinduism, strong criticism developed by the 10th century C.E., which suggests that abuse occurred either of euthanasia proper or of other forms of heroic and religious, self-willed death to which it was closely associated, despite the attempt to define parameters.

5. The Indian Penal Code, based on British law at the time of the Raj*, views suicide as a criminal act. Because suicide has been interpreted as inclusive of all forms of self-willed death, euthanasia became illegal with the advent of British law in India.

A challenge to the Indian Penal Code's ruling on suicide was made by Justice T. K. Tukol in a series of lectures, to the L. D. Institute of Indology, published under the title Sallekhana* is Not Suicide (1976). While commentators on the Indian Penal Code have included the case of religious fasting to death among the forms of suicide, Justice Tukol argued that such fasting to death (sallekhana ; samadhimarana) is not suicide:

upasarge durbhikse* jarasi rujayam* ca nihpratikare*| dharmaya* tanuvimocanamahuh* sallekhanamaryah*||

The wise ones say that sallekhana* is giving up the body when there is calamity (upasarga), [suffering from] famine (durbhiksa*), old age and decay (jaras), painful disease (ruja), and incurable disease (nihpratikara*) for the sake of dharma.

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antarkriyadhikaranam * tapah* phalam* sakaladarsinah . stuvate tasmadyavadvibhavam samadhimarane* prayatitavyam||

All systems of religion praise the result of austerities (tapas) which is control of mind and action; therefore, one should try to attain dignity/ emancipation from existence (vibhava) in samadhimarana *.

These two verses (Ratna- karandaka- sravakacara* 22-23; text quoted by Tukol 1976, 107; translation here by K. Young) describe the Jaina forms of voluntary death (sallekhana*) as legitimate responses to debilitating old age and incurable disease. It is noted that other Indian religious systems have a similar method of death by austerities and meditation, presumably in the same circumstances, which is dignified and salvific. The present task is to recover the Hindu context

of self-willed death in cases of severe illness and debilitating old age in order to contribute to the Indian debate initiated by Tukol.

Such a challenge that looks to the Indian past makes timely the historical, textual study undertaken here. It may inform the contemporary debate as it unfolds in India and serve as a basis for cross-cultural comparisons when the topic is historical reflections on euthanasia. Such a study will illumine how self- willed death in certain situations of old age and disease was found in India throughout much of history but was eliminated in the early modern period. In

comparison, euthanasia in the sense of "freedom to leave" was rarely found in the West after the Graeco- Roman period, although today its merits are increasingly debated as withdrawal of treatment becomes a common phenomenon in hospitals and the debate over compassionate murder continues. II. Life Affirmation and the Issue of Self-willed Death in the Vedic Period

Prosperity, progeny, and longevity summarize the earliest Weltanschauung of the Aryans in India. Repeatedly in the Rg* Veda, the earliest text, the deities are invoked to shower these benefits on worshippers who perform sacrifice and praise the gods. It is the desire for longevity that interests us here. According to Rg *. III.3.7, for instance, the god Agni is requested to bless the sacrificer with good progeny and long life. Agni is called the universal protector of bodies (Rg *. III.4.2) and is addressed as the source of strength who will give

abundant vitality and exemption from sickness and danger (Rg *. III.18.4). The Lord himself is praised as the imperishable life principle (Rg . III.9.1) and the Asvins (the physician- gods) are beseeched for good health (Rg *. 1.80.4). The concept of one hundred years represents the ideal of longevity:

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O gods, may we hear with our ears what is beneficial, may we see with our eyes what is good. With firm limbs and sound bodies, having sung your praises, may we reach old age, our minds steadfast on god. May one hundred years await us wherein old age is assured, wherein sons will become fathers. May no harm be done to us in the midst of

the course of life. (Rg * 1.89.8-9. English translation of Geldner 1951, 114)

A preoccupation of the Vedas is long life, perhaps because life was precarious on account of disease and war, and the life span was relatively short. The deities are invoked to protect the body, invigorate it with energy, provide it with sustenance, exempt it from disease, or, if necessary, heal it so that one may live the full term of life which is one hundred years.8 In that the deities themselves are the imperishable life force,

they can take the individual across the difficulties of life. Whether we view the charms described in the Atharva Veda as contemporary to or in continuity with the Rg* Veda, prayers for long life and health contained therein reflect the same life affirmation.

Live thou, thriving a hundred autumns, a hundred winters, and a hundred springs! May Indra, Agni, Savitar, Brhaspati* (grant) thee a hundred years! I have snatched him (from death) with an oblation that secures a life of a hundred years." (Bloomfield 1897, 49)

Old age is veritably a blessing from the gods. Prayers for health and protection from disease and other misfortunes indicate that the body is viewed positively. Indeed, so strong is the Vedic life affirmation that immortality is viewed as a continuity to the good, long life, albeit in another realm (svarga). Immortality itself is virtually a secondary interest. The perception

of a rupture occurs only with the idea that Yama, the god of death, and his messengers may take one away. Both the notion of premature death or relegation to the realm of Yama cast a shadow on happiness and reflect that life is indeed precarious. But, by and large, optimism through confidence in divine protection (and praise, ritual, and charm as human actions to foster the gods' good

will) dominates the orientation. If we try to understand this Vedic premise of longevity as a historian of religions, we realize that the concept of longevity, which informs other concepts, is more than an expression of the life principle at the core of human existence, for it is nuanced by salient features of Rg* Vedic society.

Early Rg* Vedic society is an extension of the concept of family and kin, a veritable "being-in-common" where religion and society are not only immersed in each other but also extend beyond the human realm. Accordingly, the collectivity includes (1) all ancestors and (2) all deities who cross over to the human sphere (to which they can communicate by virtue of their an- thropomorphismoften on the analogy of an "acquaintance" to the immedi-

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ate family such as guest, envoy, friend, guide, physician, and so forthbut from which they distinguish themselves by their natural, cosmic, and superhuman traits). Because of the deities' difference from the human collectivity, they are to be treated with respect, deference, and as allies to ensure the maintenance of order (rta *) and well- being, including a long, healthy life surrounded

by kin.

It is for this reason that sacrifice was in vogue. Sacrifice is primarily a way to forge a bonding between oneself and the deities, that is, to forge a sacral relationship. Because of this bonding, it is hoped that the deities will protect one through life. The corollary of this statement is that death as a concept of annihilation is marginalized or destroyed on account of the organic view of well- being and the bonding with the

deities. The extra antidote is the charm, which magically helps to keep Yama, god of death, away.

Without the natural optimism of a youthful population and the security provided by kinship (the family, tribe, etc.), such an optimistic view of life as one hundred autumns, despite the precariousness of life and the relatively short life span, probably would not have developed. Moreover, there would not have been such confidence at the core of the Aryan migration into India, a confidence in power and dominion so great that for a long time it was not

eroded by the many battles with the native inhabitants (not to mention among the Aryan tribes themselves).

With such life affirmation, which is related to the sacramentalization of life but never quite becomes a principle of the sanctity of life, it does not surprise us to find no discussion of suicide (atmahatya*, atmaghata*) in the Veda. And yet, by the 6th century B.C.E., we find clues that suicide is becoming an issue in society at the same time that the categories of mots voluntaria heroica and mots voluntaria religiosa are emerging. To account for this dramatic change, we must take a closer look at the period under discussion.

In the late Rg* Veda and the literature of the Brahmanas*, an interest in control develops. Much of the Vedic energy was consumed by family concerns, the establishment of dominion over the land, and the founding of new Aryan settlements. By the time of the texts of the Brahmanas*,as, there is a desire to control human life, society, and cosmos. More specifically, control is extended in two directions. It is extended over the gods who are now subject to the will of the emerging priests and

intelligentsia (the Brahmins who call themselves gods on earth, for they can guarantee the results of the system of sacrifice). Control is also extended over the non-Aryan inhabitants who are gradually integrated into the social order by adjusting the metaphor of organic unity to accommodate the hierarchy imposed by ruler and ruled, hence kingship and the rudimentary caste system.

On initial view, the new concerns with control and system suggest that

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the passage from kin groups, inclusive of the federation of tribes, to the creation of kingdoms was a relatively peaceful process. But, if we read between the lines of the Brahmanas *

complement this source by comparative data from other societies undergoing a transition to kingdoms, and finally deduce certain antecedents from the literature of Jainism and Buddhism, then a different

view of this transitional period comes to the foreground. To put matters simply, there are clues that the epoch was fraught with terrible violence:

However peaceful and harmless the srauta* ritual may look, there can be no doubt about its violent origin in the heroic battle sacrifice epitomizing the warrior phase. Over the whole of the orderly and obsessively regulated vedic ritual there still hangs the dark cloud of a heroically violent world where gods and asuras are for ever fighting each other in endlessly recurring rounds of conflict. (Heesterman 1984, 125)

It is necessary to understand the escalation of this violence at the time of the rise of kingdoms and the variety of reactions to it in the warriors' milieu in order to appreciate the immediate context of (1) mors voluntaria heroica, (2) the development of suicide and nonviolence, and (3) the relationship of these to mors voluntaria religiosa and euthanasia (which begin to make their textual appearance by the 6th century B.C.E.). Since this aspect of extreme violence, including human sacrifice, has been underestimated by historians in general and historians of

religions in particularbecause of their focus on the ritual violence of animal sacrifice to the neglect of political violencethe presence of widespread violence needs to be argued before we can look at related religious phenomena. At the risk of a digression, I wish to propose a scenario that to me makes sense of the data. Let me begin by locating my hermeneutic clue in Eli Sagan's At the Dawn of Tyranny: the Origins of Individualism, Political Oppression, and the State (1985).

Sagan's thesis is that a study of societies such as ancient Buganda in Africa and ancient Tonga, Tahiti, and Hawaii in Polynesia reveal the emergence of kingdoms, that is, complex soeieites. Complex societies are characterized by the creation of a form of social cohesion other than kinship. This cohesion is the State, which is organized by loyalty to the king and fear of his power to oppress. The State develops a centralized monarchy, organized priesthood,

hierarchically ordered social system, rich culture full of imaginative and differentiated cultural forms (such as epic poetry and theatre), and a religious orientation based on a sacrificial complex. In the State, it is common to find royal incest, prostitution, adultery games, sexual exhibitionism, and compulsive gambling. It is striking, says Sagan, that human sacrifice is a characteristic form of ritual aggression during the rise of kingdoms and tyranny is rampant.

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Leaving aside Sagan's larger thesis of cultural evolution with its psychoanalytic moorings, it may be argued that his analysis of complex society, involving the transition from chieftainship to simple kingdoms, resonates well with the period of Indian history from the time of the Brahmanas * to the emergent epic of the Mahabharata *. In India, one finds not only the transition from tribe to kingdom but also the development of social hierarchy in the form of caste, a well- defined priesthood (which collaborates

with the State), the advent of epic poetry, theatre, a religious complex based on sacrifice, cases of royal incest, prostitution, adultery, sexual exhibitionism, and gambling. In fact, Sagan's diagnostic features of early kingdoms is a good characterization of this period in India.9

When hierarchy is abused, argues Sagan (1985), tyranny is born. Moreover, "license is implicit in omnipotence;" "the two great licenses are the sexual and the aggressive, and early kings were expected to exercise both" (320). With reference to the latter, "a king was a king because he could kill at will" (321), even though he could also be the benevolent protector of the land. The prevalence of sacrifice in complex societies testifies both to aggression and to an

attempt to be omnipotent by controlling life and death. The latter is symbolized par excellence by human sacrifice. If this hermeneutical clue from Sagan is correct, then one should expect to find human sacrifice in the Brahmanas *. The texts, in fact, point to this reality. A parallel to the horse sacrifice is the human sacrifice. One text (see Keith 1925, 347ff) mentions the offering of 166 men at 11 posts. Keith attributes this to priestly imagination,

because there is lack of detail. But the account should be taken more seriously, given comparative evidence10 and the possibility of later Brahmanical editing of the texts (in the face of Buddhist and Jaina critiques) to eliminate details of human sacrifice or to make them symbolic (as in the Satapatha*, Taittiriya*, and the Sutras*).

Keith tells us that the king, on this occasion, may give up his goods and enter into the life of a wandering mendicant. The meaning escapes Keith, as it does more recent scholars who view the violence inclusive of human sacrifice only as a survival from the very distant past. This ritual was performed initially in order to achieve human success, magically, as it were, by taking a human victim. The

later context for this ritual ensures a regular succession to the throne by having the king remove himself from the seat of government, give up his power, and withdraw to the forest. The performance of the human sacrifice on this occasion no doubt is to symbolize the king's sacrifice of himself for the sake of his son. The son, in turn, will perform rituals at the time of his father's death to secure heaven for

his father. Keith suggests that there are two doctrines in the Brahmanas* that prefigure approval of religious, self-willed death from religious motives: (1) the proper sacrifice is that of a man's self, and (2) the final act of the pur-

Page 82 usamedha * and sarvamedha is "the giving away by the performer of the whole of his possessions, including in the latter case even the land, and his wandering into the forest, doubtless as a preliminary to an early death" (1922, 34).

These doctrines must be appreciated, as has been suggested, in the context of the rise of kingdoms, which led to a particularly violent phase of Indian history when the sacrifice of animals was rampant and that of humans not unknown. Before we can understand fully the meaning of this human sacrifice by and of the king, we need to look more closely at the concept of heroic death and a variety of

reactions to violence in the Ksatriya* milieu.

Death in battle has been rewarded by most cultures, for there must be some compensation for male risk in battle beyond immediate material gain. Thus Rg* Veda X. 154.3 (Atharva 18.2.17), which may be dated to about the same period as the Brahmanas* and the rise of kingdoms in the Gangetic plain, suggests "that warriors losing life in battle reap the same rewards that those who make gifts of a thousand cows in

sacrifices secure" (Kane 1973, 58). Later texts indicate that death in battle is equated to participation in the Brahmanical sacrifice itself. "Santiparva* 78.31 states that just as those who join in the bath of the king at the end of the Asvamedha* sacrifice are purified of all sins, so all soldiers (of whatever caste and on whatever side) killed in battle become pure by the destruction of their sins" (Kane III, 1973, 58). Texts such as Gita* II.31-37;

Manu VII. 87-89, Yaj *. I. 324, and so on make the reward explicitly heaven.

Warriors who were defeated in battle sometimes killed themselves out of shame or killed themselves rather than be captured. Similarly, women escaped capture, rape, and slaveryat the time of defeat or after their husbands were killed in battle or when they killed themselvesby willing their own death. With great violence in society, we can predict a high level of violence against women. As Sagan says, the power to take a

woman away from another man is a double tyranny (1985, 291), that is, it is an act of aggression against the woman and the man. These forms of self-willed death no doubt were also associated with heaven.

If attainment of heaven was guaranteed by heroic death in battle or self- willed death to escape capture, rape, and slavery (an idea which may well date from the period of the Brahmanas*, though it is explicitly found in later texts), then, according to this cultural logic, warriors who did not die in or because of battle, despite a valiant career, were not rewarded. (Even Bhismaparva* 17.11 states that "it is a sinful act for

a ksatriya* to die in his house from some disease; the ancient code of conduct for him is that he should meet death from steel" (Kane 1973, 3:58; see also Salyaparva* 5.32, Santi* 97.23 and 25). We may surmise that this insistence on death in battle would seem unjust to those old warriors who had risked their lives on

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numerous occasions in battle, yet survived. May we not assume that such survivors extended the cultural logic to include heroic self- sacrifice toward the end of life to ensure that they too attained heaven? Furthermore, it is likely that the close association of mors voluntaria heroica toward the end of life (as a substitute for death in battle) leading to the attainment of heaven or deification, in turn, posited the seeds for the general connection of self-willed death and the religious goal, heaven or

enlightenment, in the emergent religions of the Gangetic plain, hence the phenomenon of mors voluntaria religiosa.

Besides this concept of heroic death to ensure heaven, self- willed death no doubt was also viewed as an appropriation of the violence of the king. We recall that the king in early complex society is autonomous and can do virtually anything that he wants, even to the extent of killing others as sacrificial victims. We have also indicated that the king's male kin or other warriors in the society may be jealous of his power and wish to imitate it, yet be afraid of royal reprisal

should they go about killing whom they please when they please. It is conceivable that some warriors may imitate the king and his omnipotence by killing themselves, especially since we know from modern psychology that the thing and its opposite may be identical in the unconscious. The violence of the king that makes him omnipotent, in that he decides who lives and who dies, is achieved by others who develop complete power over the self to the

point of killing the self and thereby achieving power over life and death. Just as the king becomes a destroyer and takes a human victim to ward off magically his own destruction and to achieve success, so too a warrior may desire to imitate the king's omnipotence and to ward off his own destruction by taking himself as victim. In this light, violence directed outward and violence directed inward are intimately related. Jealousy, anger, or fear

of the king's power, which may involve a desire to kill him, is deflected back on the warriors who kill themselves instead, thereby becoming omnipotent through taking themselves as sacrificial victims. Could it not be, then, that the category of mors voluntaria religiosa was directly connected to the warriors' milieu, almost as an interiorization of the heroic idiom and heroic mors voluntaria of the day. 11

One common form of self- willed death became death by fire, for the Vedic sacrificial cult was focused on fire, understood as the god Agni. A sacrifice may have a specific purpose: to obtain something by giving something up. So also voluntary, self-willed death became linked to a specific purpose: to obtain freedom (heaven or liberation) through an act of omnipotence, involving the sacrifice of the self. In that self-

inflicted, human sacrifice gave one omnipotence and the power over life itself, this negative power, as it were, could lead to the idea of liberation from violence. Once again, we discover antecedents to mors voluntaria religiosa. The extreme

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violence of the age provoked other reactions as well. One was nonviolence. When a more nonviolent self-sacrifice (such as fasting to death) was substituted for violent self-sacrifice, the goal remained the same. But for some, the more nonviolent means no doubt seemed superior, either as a way to escape violence or as a protest to violence (albeit still by killing the self, nonviolently, as it were).

If omnipotence through self- sacrifice was related to asceticism and withdrawal to the forest, as nonviolent ways to escape the materialism and violence of the age, then such escapism was no longer a cowardly act, anathema to a warrior. Rather, it was positively appropriated and converted into a religious path and goal epitomized by nonviolence and a fast to death, which ensured

heaven or liberation, Such an equation eventually was recorded in the texts. According to Kane (1973, 3:58), "Two men pierce the orb of the sun (i.e. reach heavenly worlds), viz. an ascetic endowed with Yoga and a soldier killed with facing the enemy" (Parasara * 3.37).

In this way, violence and nonviolence were intimately related, in that nonviolence was to be substituted for violence to achieve the goal of omnipotence. Killing the self may have taken more courage and heroism than aggression directed outward. The feeling of omnipotence may have been even greater than that of the king and may have given rise to the idea of the superiority of the ascetic who wills his or her own death. If voluntary self- willed death had its seeds in the warriors' milieu, its significance as a method for omnipotence no doubt was noted by others in the society, especially the

Brahmins who were sensitive to issues of power in their competition with the Ksatriyas . In the Aranyakas or the Forest Treatises, the sequel to the Brahmanas*, we find both Ksatriyas* and Brahmins withdrawing to the forest to practise asceticism. To the extent that the new ascetic power did not threaten the king's power, he allowed its expression. But the ascetic's power and the king's power were bound to conflict, unless models for their complementarity were developed.

Now we are in a position to understand why the king not only sacrificed others to symbolize his omnipotence but also withdrew to the forest to practise asceticism, possibly leading to some form of self-willed death. As a warrior, he probably wished to secure heaven since he did not die in battle. As the most powerful person, his form of death had to be at least equivalent to other Ksatriyas*, who had discovered the key to heaven and immortality

through self- willed death. This analysis is not to underestimate the sociological side of the phenomenon: the king's abandonment of power and physical withdrawal also eased the problem of the transfer of power in the royal family. While such equivalences and substitutions surrounding the issue of self-willed death no doubt appealed to the Ksatriyas* and some Brahmins,

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they must have appeared as forms of suicide to those Brahmins who supported the Vedic prescription of the natural life span. It should not surprise us, then, to find that prohibitions against suicide start to appear in the subsequent texts, the Upanisads . It also should not surprise us to find that the Upanisads reflect philosophical ferment, as thinkers try to come to terms with changing values and

the new religious perspectives developed by Buddhism and Jainism. The issue of the natural life span or self-willed death will be focal to the new thinking that tries to reconcile violence and nonviolence, materialism and asceticism, and action and withdrawal.

To conclude, the rise of kingdoms, which resulted in great violence including human sacrifice, was the background for the emergence of mors voluntaria heroica, mors voluntaria religiosa, suicide, and nonviolence through a number of equivalences and substitutions. These developments played no small part in transforming the Vedic world view, as we shall see in the next section.

III. The Upanisadic* Weltanschauung and Adjustment of the Vedic Value of Longevity

Central to the Upanisadic* transformation was the Brahmanical reaction to, if not participation in, the polarizations of the times. Brahmins, we must not forget, were the priests who consecrated and supported the new kings by their sacrificial expertise. They were not far removed from the seat of power and the violence of the age, for the religious microcosm involved sacrifice. At the same time, Brahmins also vied with Ksatriyas* for power, albeit defined ritualistically and

intellectually. As asceticism became a new means to achieve power, it is conceivable that more and more Brahmins appropriated this new idiom for omnipotence. By making themselves equal to the king, they not only elevated themselves but also brought the king lower. Indeed, in the Upanisads* Brahmins often learned the secret truth of this "ascetic" omnipotence from the Ksatriyas*, but they claimed that Brahmins were at the head of the hierarchy. In short, the individualism

of the age was not without its power struggles.

The new Weltanschauung presented in the Upanisads*, which reflects integration of the challenges of the epoch, is based on a polarity between this- worldly suffering through death after death (punarmrtyu*), later understood as birth after birth (the wheel of samsara*) and the bliss of liberation (moksa*), which transcends the human condition altogether. The rupture in existence is no longer the rupture of death caused by Yama, though this idea lingers. It is the rupture caused by the soul's disengagement from matter, nature, and

body alike. This rupture is now viewed as categorically positive. Human life is no longer valued in its own right, more precisely, for the sake

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of progeny, family, and material well- being so central to Aryan identity in the Rg * Veda. Rather, it is viewed from two competing perspectives: human life as necessary for salvation, and the body as the cause of bondage. While the new theory of rebirth posits that the individual may have had or may have in the future other kinds of birth (for example, as an animal), it is only in a human birth that an individual may seek enlightenment. Hence, the value of human life is defined positively by the unique opportunity that it provides

for the pursuit of salvation. Human status is a product of an individual's karma, a result of good actions in previous lives. Abuse of this human status is productive of bad karma. The result may be loss of human status in the next life and with it opportunity for salvation, thus perpetuating the "bondage of rebirth (samsara*). At the same time, human status is viewed negatively, for the body is the expression of bondage and suffering. Thus, the meaning of human existence has shifted to instrumentality, that is, human embodiment as a means to

obtain the supreme goal. The corollary of this shift is the opposition of soul and body and a stress on individual responsibility for salvation. One can cheat Death of its prey through yoga, comprising austerities and knowledge. This leads to real transcendence and immortality, understood as attaining the Absolute (brahman) and the True Self (atman*). As Blackburn notes (1985, 255), "Vedic sacrifices were designed to ward off death temporarily and attain a full life span for men. A more total

conquest of death was the goal in the philosophies of the Upanishads, Buddhism, and Jainism."

The Upanisads*, considered the end or culmination of the Veda, present this new view of human existence, though the older Vedic perspective is generally incorporated. For example, in Chandogya* Upanisad* 11.2 the Gayatri* chant (which reflects the Vedic orientation) and the breaths of the yogi (which reflect the Upanisadic* view) together ensure a long, prosperous life (the old Vedic ideal).

In Kausitaki* Upanisad* 4.8, it is said that the (Upanisadic*) Brahman fulfills the Vedic goals of life such as longevity. When Brahman in the self is reverenced as the breath of life (asu), one "does not die before the time" (Kausitaki* 4.13). Accordingly, the appreciation of longevity, which is related to the sacramentalization of life, is often integrated into the Upanisadic* perspective. While the Vedas relate longevity to vitality and, in the final analysis, animation or breath itself, the Upanisads* see breath as a symbol of the soul (atman*) and immortality. Long life, moreover, is still desired, but there appears a basic disjunction between samsara*

and moksa *. Yoga as a magic power sometimes replaces praise, sacrifice, and charm as the protector and preserver of life and ultimately the conqueror of death. Pursuit of yoga, however, may be relegated to the last stage of life. Here, too, a long healthy life is necessary to ensure that there is sufficient time for the pursuit

Page 87 of yoga culminating in enlightenment. Through yoga, one conquers sickness, old age, and also death (Svetasvatara *. 2.12).

The Upanisadic* view, however, poses a tension between the Vedic view of a life span of one hundred years and the idea that action (karma) creates bondage. To overcome this conundrum, it is argued that although the renouncer may desire to live a hundred years, karma will not bind him after he has achieved liberation.

Even while doing deeds here, One may desire to live a hundred years. Thus on theenot otherwise than this is it The deed (karman) adheres not on the man. (Isa* 2; Hume 1968, 362)

While the Vedic life affirmation is incorporated into the Upanisadic* Weltanschauung, so that yoga is like a magical power which both protects life to full term and leads to liberation, a new negative view of old age is also found: "May I, who am the glory of the glories, not go to hoary and toothless, yea to toothless and hoary and driveling [old age]! Yea, may I not go to driveling [old age!]" (Chandogya* 8.14; Hume 1968, 273). This verse expresses a desire to avoid extreme debilitating old age, which may be a reflection of the fact that the life span is increasing.

Despite ambivalence over human life and the body, the Vedic respect for longevity and the natural life span remains the dominant Brahmanical attitude. This may be the reason for the following verse, which may be taken as condemning suicide, especially if suicide as a form of escape from violence is becoming common in society.

Devilish (asurya) are those worlds called, With blind darkness (tamas) covered o'er! Unto them, on deceasing, go Whatever folk are slayers of the Self. (Isa* 3; Hume 1968, 362)12 But another interpretation of this verse is that it alludes to the growing custom of self-willed death by the warrior folk "who are slayers of the self."

To highlight the distinctively Brahmanical/ Hindu response to the challenges of the 6th century B.C.E., it is important to consider briefly the Jaina and Buddhist views that draw from the same ascetic and intellectual currents and which, in turn, prompt some of the Brahmanical rethinking that appears in the Upanisads *. The first observation is that Jainism and Buddhism share

Page 88 the premise of samsara * and liberation. Samsara* is bondage, and bondage is suffering, while, once again, enlightenment is transcendence of the human condition.

As an early ascetic movement, Jainism makes a categorical imperative out of nonviolence; the idea takes on moralistic overtones. And yet, the Jaina idea of liberation as radical autonomy (kaivalya) and the custom of fasting to death (sallekhana*) remain close to the ideas of 1) asceticism as withdrawal from violence, and 2) omnipotence as the ability to kill the self. Indeed, Jainism is the first

religion to formalize and legitimate the pratrise of mors voluntaria heroicawhich, as we have argued, was in vogue in the warrior and ascetic circlesas a kind of mors voluntaria religiosa. Jainism also seems to be the first Indian religion to associate mors voluntaria religiosa with euthanasia as a form of self-willed death at the time of debilitating old age or severe illness.

The practise of sallekhana* is described in the Acaranga . it is said that the wise one should know that the time for death has come. If one falls sick in the midst of the fast, one should take food until well. One should not long for life or death. One should die by the elimination of food (bhaktapratya- khyanamarana). One should lie on the ground, rejoice in pain, and, even if animals feed on one's flesh, one should not kill them, nor stir from the position (Acaranga *. 1.7.8.1-10; Jacobi 1884, 74-76).

What is striking about the early Jaina perspective is not only that asceticism and mortification of the flesh have been taken to their ultimate conclusion. It is also that a religion which has, as a cardinal doctrine, ahimsa* or non-injury to any living creatureincluding never killing an insect intentionally or unintentionallyyet has as an ideal: religious, self- willed death. The rationale is that the virtually liberated person is beyond the opposition of life and death. The body will be eliminated anyway when the karmas are used up. A cognizance of imminent death together with perfect control and a peaceful means,

which is gradual and mindful, is veritably the good death. That the almost enlightened one maintains ahimsa* or non-injury to the very end and does not harm insects or wild animals that eat away the flesh is considered a fulfillment of the religious code. Such was the attempt to reconcile the apparent contradiction between self- willed death and ahimsa* given the internal logic of the religion. Thus, it may be argued that Jainism tried to harness the power of violent death through yogic control and fasting as a means to conquer totally death and samsara *.

More specifically, fasting to death (sallekhana*) was given a religious meaning by understanding it to be the means of removing those karmas that remain even after ascetic purification, especially those that define the existence of the body itself or bondage. Sallekhana* was to be done in a religious framework by monks and nuns and was to be controlled by a number of

Page 89 constraints, such as years of preparatory purification, meditation leading to true knowledge, and timing toward the end of life. By associating the fast to death with salvation and governing the practise through certain constraints, sallekhana * was distinguished from both mors voluntaria heroica and suicide proper.

The purpose of sallekhana* was ostensibly to eliminate the body for the purpose of eliminating bondage toward the end of the natural life span. Some monastics resorted to the practise earlier in life when faced by a seemingly incurable disease, even though the merits of doing so were debated in the early tradition. It was thought that the sick could not sustain the

austerities involved in the controlled elimination of food.

Buddhism, too, had its roots in a reaction to the violence of the day. Buddha, who grew up among his own kin (the Sakyas*)whose tribal territory was on the periphery of the Gangetic plain, which witnessed the rise of kingdomswas shocked when he first encountered the political violence by the Ksatriyas* and the sacrificial violence by the Brahmins of the plains. Like the Jainas, Buddha gave a moralistic interpretation to nonviolence but was

careful to seek a Middle Path and to avoid the polarizations of the times. It was Buddha, in particular, who promoted his message by castigating the sacrificial system of Brahmins. Moreover, he continually sought ways to solve disputes nonviolently and to encourage warriors to lay down their arms and take up occupations that would not involve killing (Sinha 1986, 25-26).

Buddha condemns suicide (or self-willed death?) in no uncertain terms. In the Parajika*, Buddha says: "A monk who preaches suicide, who tells man: 'Do away with this wretched life, full of suffering and sin; death is better,' in fact preaches murder, is a murderer, is no longer a monk" (De La Vallée Poussin 1922, 125). Because this remark is addressed to monks, we conclude that Buddha also excludes any form of religious, self- willed death and warns against pessimism even in the

midst of the religious path. Since one of Buddha's five precepts is not to kill any living thing (ahimsa*), the prohibition on suicide follows logically. Similarly, the idea of self- willed death at the time when one's end is near is discouraged, if not prohibited outright. Buddha, on the contrary, encourages individuals to seek enlightenment as early as possible. If suffering becomes overwhelming, one may not be able to have the right mindfulness so necessary to realize the Four Noble Truths.

And yet it seems that meditation on suffering did make some disciples of Buddha pessimistic and led them to the point of suicide. This may be a reflection of the considerable pessimism existent in the society at large, which was related to the violence and turbulent changes brought about by the formation of the kingdoms. Yet, enlightenment as conceived by Buddha was no easy affair, and the quest could engender deep despair if wisdom

Page 90 were not forthcoming. There are three stories of aspirants who are about to commit suicide, so frustrated are they by their inability to progress spiritually, 13 and one story of a monk who contemplates suicide because he is suffering from a terrible illness.

In the first three cases, if despair over the difficulty of realizing enlightenment (nibbana*) prompts preparation for suicide, thoughts of suicide in turn, prompt realization. It is the story that recounts how a monk contemplates suicide because he is suffering from severe illness, which interests us here.

In Samyutta* iii. 123, it is told how Vakkali, who is ill and suffering great pain, is comforted by Buddha. Buddha tells him that his death will be auspicious. Then the monk utters one final time the profession of faith and kills himself by the sword. It is hard to think that Buddha condoned this act from our previous discussion of the early Buddhist perspective, but he must have considered this case an exception (given his compassion and the severity of the disease). Even

though Buddha considered the experience of suffering as potentially redemptive, he was known as a good physician. Perhaps because of this pragmatic orientation, he was willing to entertain euthanasia in exceptional circumstances. His position on euthanasia was also made possible because life has instrumental value in his teachings; he did not have to worry about the sanctity of life. Moreover, it is possible to make sense of the various early Buddhist discussions if we

understand that the desire of Buddha is to prevent any form of self- willed death (whether prompted by escapism or by religious motives) precisely because various kinds of self-willed death were becoming prevalent in society. It is likely that he viewed self- willed death as a kind of extremism and preferred to substitute meditation on death as the means to achieve omniscience and omnipotence. Such a position, however, does not preclude the possibility of Buddha's compassion

toward one who is extremely ill and wishes to die. At the same time, many of Buddha's unenlightened disciples may have viewed the issue differently. Most of them were warriors (Ksatriyas*). If heroic, self- willed death were indeed common in society, then it should not surprise us to find that some of Buddha's followers take up the sword out of frustration, escapism, or as a substitute for death in battle. Whatever the motivation, these close encounters with suicide (or self-willed death) are

described in a didactic way in the Pali* Canon to show how sudden realization may occur at the moment of total despair. To conclude, we find that a new Weltanschauung emerged by the 6th century B.C.E., the premises of which were shared by Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism. These three religions all had to come to terms with such deep polarizations as materialism and asceticism and violence and nonviolence, which developed with the massive upheavals in the society caused by the

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rise of kingdoms or complex society. Moreover, the three religions all tried to tame the violence. Their common concern to prohibit suicide suggests that suicide was becoming a problem in society, perhaps because pessimism and escapism were spreading among the populace at large in this age of great violence, especially if the warriors promoted a form of self- willed death. The response of the three religions to mors voluntaria heroica, however,

differed. While Brahmins recognized heroic, self- willed death as a prevalent Ksatriya * or warrior practise, which was extending into ascetic circles, Brahmins did not wish to see the practise move beyond the Ksatriyas* circle. Most Brahmins continued to insist on the old Vedic ideal of longevity, "one hundred autumns," even when liberation occurred earlier in life and only the continued existence of the body defined bondage. Jainism, by contrast,

highlighted the religious dimension of mors voluntaria heroica so that it is more proper to speak of a mors voluntaria religiosa in the form of a fast to death by ascetics, which brought the salvific dimension to the foreground. Because this fast to death was distinguished from suicide by a number of constraints, it was viewed as a legitimate and preferred option for monastics toward the end of their life. Buddhism, differed from Jainism by not endorsing self-willed

death for monastics. In this sense, Buddhism was more like Brahmanism in its insistence on the natural life span and meditation as the way to eliminate bondage. Buddhism, however, focused more on suffering than did Brahmanism, which clung to the old life affirmation of the Vedas despite the growing pessimism. While all three religions remained sensitive to the issue of the natural life span and reacted to any premature escapism, they also all created scope for the

practise of euthanasia. Brahmins came to endorse the idea of withdrawing to the forest toward the end of life, which may have put them in contact with the practise of self-willed death. (We recall that already in the Satapatha* Brahmana* the king withdrew to the forest to facilitate the problem of succession, possibly with a view to an earlyand self- willeddeath.) When severe disease set in, it was but a small step to will death, having already renounced both

possessions and relations. Jainism recognized, although it did not encourage, the practise of sallekhana* or the fast to death when severe illness occurred. And Buddha himself, through his compassion for the extreme suffering of Vakkali, condoned his self-willed death in these exceptional circumstances.

In short, all three religions had to come to terms with the transformation of the sacramental view of human life to ar instrumental view where life continued to have fundamental value but not intrinsic value. We noticed that this instrumental view of human life may be correlated with a concern with suicide and the practise of heroic mors voluntaria. This new orientation meant that certain questions regarding the quality of life could be

raised. This allowed issues of euthanasia to be considered, for euthanasia is related

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to the quality of life when one is very ill or old. Each of the religions adjusted to the practise of mors voluntaria with sensitivity to the idea of the natural life span, despite the differences of approach to self-willed death from acceptance within certain constraints to denial of the practise. Whatever the differences, greater sympathy was given by all three religions to situations that involved debilitating old age and apparent terminal illness. Finally, the discussion of mors voluntaria heroica and mors voluntaria religiosa proceeded hand

in hand with discussions of suicide as killing the self and ahimsa * as not killing any sentient thing. The Jainas made ahimsa* a tenet of their religion but also accepted sallekhana . Consequently, they had to argue why sallekhana is not killing the self by resorting to the idea of a peaceful mode and religious context, which was confined to advanced mendicants. Buddhists also accepted the principle of ahimsa* but substituted meditation on death for actual self-willed death. While there was an attempt to encourage non- monastics to be nonviolent, a

difference of ethics between monastics and the laity was permitted. This avoided the problem posed by insisting on universal nonviolence (ahimsa*) in the Ksatriya* milieu. Brahmins were faced with the difficulty of adjusting to the new situation through elimination, or harmonization of, the sacrificial system (which involved killing) and ahimsa *. Brahmins had sacramentalized the elderly king's withdrawal to the forest, which involved human sacrifice and may have led the king to self-sacrifice in the sense of mors voluntaria

heroica. They also began to voice concern regarding suicide. In the next period, Brahmins will try to reconcile acceptance of mors voluntaria, prohibition of suicide, and ahimsa* either by a multiple ethic, 14 involving different rules for different groups or situations, or by arguing how euthanasia is an exception to the general rule. Moreover, in the after centuries, mors voluntaria religiosawhich was probably first legitimated by Jainismspreads to Brahmanism/ Hinduism, takes root in Buddhism, and also extends to the laity in

Jainism. While there are debates regarding the legitimacy of the practise, there is still accord when the context is terminal illness and debilitating old age. IV. Religious, Self-Willed Death in the Hindu Smrti* Texts Compared with Similar Developments in Buddhism and Jainism

Contained in the Hindu smrti* texts (6th century B.C.E. to 10th century C.E.) are a number of injunctions and prohibitions that provide guidelines for proper conduct, as well as document changing attitudes in society. With reference to our topic of concern, we find that suicide is severely condemned throughout this period. It is worth quoting Kane's summary of the smrti* statements

on suicide (atmaghata* or atmahatya*) understood as self- destruc-

Page 93 tion usually prompted by extreme emotion, depression, or some external circumstance over which the individual thinks he/ she has no control.

The Dharmasastra * writers generally condemn suicide or an attempt to commit suicide as a great sin. Parasara* (IV. 1-2) states that if a man or woman hangs himself or herself through extreme pride or extreme rage or through affliction or fear, he or she falls into hell for sixty thousand years. Manu V.89 says that no water is to be offered for the benefit of the souls of those who kill themselves. The Adiparva* (179.20) declares that one who commits suicide does not reach blissful worlds. Vas. Dh. S.

(23.14-16) ordains "whoever kills himself becomes abisasta* (guilty,of mortal sin) and his sapindas* have to perform no death rites for him; a man becomes a killer of the self when he destroys himself by wood (i.e. by fire), water, clods and stones (i.e. by striking his head against a stone), weapon, poison, or ropes (i.e. by hanging)." They also quote a verse "that [a] dvija who through affection performs the last rites of a man who commits suicide must undergo the

penance of Candrayana* with Taptakrcchra*". Vas. Dh. S. 23.18 prescribes that when a person tries to do away with himself by such methods as hanging, if he dies, his body should be smeared with impure things and if he lives he should be fined two hundred panas ; his friends and sons should each be fined one pana and then they should undergo the penance laid down in the sastra *. (Kane 1974, 2:924)

This discussion suggests that the phenomenon of suicide is now common in the society. Indeed, if the Mahabharata* is any indication, there is yet polarization. Violence is prevalent (in fact, the Mahabharata* continues to fit Sagan's paradigm of complex society) and so is the desire to withdraw from society (in the Gita*, Arjuna desires to withdraw from battle and renounce action). Perhaps there is even

greater despair in the society at this time, for warriors such as Arjuna question the very purpose of being a Ksatriya *.

The locus classicus for the desire to commit suicide is the example of old King Dhrtharastra* in the epic Mahabharata* (Striparva*). Dhrtarastra*, overcome by grief as he faces the carnage of the great war and the slaughter of his kin (including his own sons), weeps uncontrollably, falls on the ground, laments, and resolves to go the long way that leads to the realm of Brahma . In other words, he wishes to die by the great journey (mahaprasthana), which involves wandering until he drops dead and goes to heaven.

Knowing that it is self- indulgence arising from extreme sorrow that has provoked the king to escape his trials by suicide, Vaisampayana* rebukes such self-pity and lectures him sternly on the meaning of death.15 In the arguments to dissuade Dhrtarastra* from committing suicide, we find an endorsement of and appeal to the Ksatriya's* duty. Ksatriyas* are to fight, for warriors who die in battle win fame and heaven. It is important to note that such death is described as a quicker and therefore easier

means to heaven than sacrifices,

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gifts, asceticism, or knowledge. It is as if a Brahmin author were attempting not only to discourage suicide but also to woo Ksatriyas * back from Buddhism and Jainism by appealing to Ksatriya* pride and stressing the idea that heroic death ensures heaven (the Sanskrit texts in the classical period make heaven the explicit goal of death in battle). The Brahmin authors go one step further and claim that death in battle, in

fact, is an easy way to attain heaven. The dialectic between Brahmins and the heterodox religions was in the making. Attracting the warriors back into the Brahmanical view of the State by discouraging asceticism, suicide (and self-willed death?), and by promoting a philosophy of action was a major task.

While the definition of suicide seems to be all- embracing (any death as the consequence of one's own action), some Brahmin lawgivers, as well as the author(s) of the epics, make exceptions.

But Atri (218-219) states some exceptions viz. "if one who is very old (beyond 70), one who cannot observe the rules of bodily purification (owing to extreme weakness ... ), one who is so ill that no medical help can be given, kills himself by throwing himself from a precipice or into a fire or water or by fasting, mourning should be observed for him for three days and sraddha* may be performed for him". Apararka* (p. 536) quotes texts of Brahmagarbha, Vivasvat and Gargya* about an householder "he who is suffering from serious illness cannot live, or

who is very old, who has no desire left for the pleasures of any of the senses and who has carried out his tasks, may bring about his death at pleasure by resorting to mahaprasthana*, by entering fire or water or by falling from a precipice. By so doing he incurs no sin and his death is far better than tapas, and one should not desire to live vainly (without being able to perform the duties laid down by the sastra*)." (Kane 1974, 2:926)

Clearly here, Brahmin authors accept, in no uncertain terms, the practise of euthanasia (if we understand the premodern meaning of euthanasia to be a good death that is self-willed and self- accomplished as a way to deal with the problems of extreme old age and severe illness).

Modern Western supporters of euthanasia argue that euthanasia should be allowed when one is no longer able to live with dignity and comfort and when the quality of life is intolerably undermined. Brahmin jurists have also sought to define biological, psychological, and social limits for the phenomenon. This was necessitated by the considerable overlap between the desire to escape the difficulties of extreme illness and old age and the desire to commit

suicide proper. For, not only are they both forms of self- willed death, they also may be prompted by extreme emotion, depression, or uncontrollable circumstance. To distinguish euthanasia from suicide, Brahmin jurists proposed a

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number of constraints. For example, either the illness cannot be treated and death is imminent or the condition of the aged person is such that there is no desire for pleasure. Because all social duties are finished, it is natural to withdraw from life. (In the terminology of modern gerontology, this would be a case of disengagement.) Brahmin authors of the legal texts also give a religious dimension to the context of euthanasia, which helps to distinguish it from suicide. Euthanasia may be done when a person no longer can perform the

rites of bodily purification, which may occur in the case of extreme illness or extreme old age. We can understand the Brahmanical position better by looking to the ritual logic of Mimamsa , which is implicit in the formulation of the Brahmanical position. Because these duties are dharmic and required, the nonperformance of them, according to the ritual logic of Mimamsa, would ordinarily create demerit/sin (papa*). Since the incapacitated person cannot perform mandatory, religious duties because of circumstances

beyond control, it was necessary to create an exception to the general rule regarding required acts. Nonperformance of obligatory action by an incapacitated person is to be considered dharmic. If nonperformance of obligatory rituals is considered dharmic for an incapacitated person, then euthanasia, which is defined, in part, by the situation of incapacitation, may also be considered dharmic. If euthanasia is dharmic, then, in Brahmanical terms, it is righteous and religious. Finally, if euthanasia is dharmic and therefore

religious, it belongs to the category of mors voluntaria religiosa and is definitively different from suicide. Such is the legalistic logic. It is important to note that once the jurists create legal scope for euthanasia, they allow easy means, such as jumping from a precipice or into fire and water, unlike Jainas, whose method of fasting to death is more arduous.

It is difficult to know whether the Brahmanical legitimation of euthanasia was a departure from an earlier Brahmanical reluctance to endorse any form of self- willed death, given the prescription of living the natural life span, or whether euthanasia was occasionally practised among Brahmins themselves. What is important is that once, Brahmin jurists reflected on the issue, almost all agreed that it could be condoned in special

circumstances for any individual, Brahmins included.

One implication of this legal scope for euthanasia is that responsibility for self-willed death rests ostensibly with the individual. The Law of Karma is the key to understanding the issue of individual responsibility. It is important for an individual to consider the various criteria for euthanasia and to determine whether the desire to die is legitimately a case of euthanasia or whether it is a case of suicide. The distinction is crucial, for the latter generates

demerit or sin (papa*) and leads to hell. While an individual was responsible to determine whether the desire to die is legitimate or not (perhaps by remembering the arguments made to convince Dhrtarastra* to

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live), the leaders of society were responsible for the larger issue of whether any kind of mors voluntaria religiosa should be legitimated. The decision was made on the basis of the scriptures, the practise of the good people, and societal conditions. There was a recognition of how human lives interconnected to determine the social order. One definition of dharma was, in fact, social order. Practises such as euthanasia were viewed critically in social terms so that the welfare of

society was taken into consideration. Once this had been determined, then an individual was free to choose actions that may be optional but must be dharmic, in that they contribute to the general good of society or at least do not obstruct it.

During the classical period under consideration, when much of the smrti * literature is composed, two additional considerations arise for Brahmins reflecting on issues such as euthanasia: the principle of ahimsa* or (non- injury) to any living thing, and the concept of samkalpa* or intention. Let us first consider the principle of ahimsa* (non- injury), which is accepted by Brahmins in this period for their own code of conductno doubt as a reaction to criticisms made against them with reference to their earlier endorsement of violence, especially sacrificial violence. Once Brahmins accept ahimsa*, then how can they consider euthanasia to be

dharmic when it involves killing the self and killing the self is an obvious denial of the principle of non- injury? As Arvind Sharma has argued in his article "The Religious Justification of War in Hinduism" (ARC, 1986), the pursuit and protection of dharma provides the religious justification of war. Whereas non-injury to living beings was a sadharana- dharma* (duty which applies to all human beings irrespective of stage and station or caste in life), Ksatriyas* had protection of dharma also as the special duty of their caste, a duty which belonged to the category of varnasrama- dharma* (duty according to caste and stage of life). According to Sharma, in case of conflict between

varnasrama- dharma* and sadharana-dharma* (as in the case of the Ksatriyas*), varnasrama- dharma*which includes both defensive and aggressive warfare when dharma is obstructedgenerally had precedence in Hinduism.

Since we have found one situation where killing is dharmic, we may assume that the same logic was operant in the Brahmanical understanding of euthanasia. Accordingly, euthanasia as self-willed death no doubt was viewed by Brahmins as dharmic given the new ideology of nonviolence, because euthanasia supports dharma (by allowing an exception to the general rule of dharma in special circumstances). By this logic of the exception, it is likely that euthanasia was reconciled with the principle of ahimsa *. (In a

similar kind of argument, some Brahmins argued that ritual sacrifice was also a legitimate exception to ahimsa . ) Besides the principle of ahimsa, which helps to define the limits of the phenomenon of euthanasia circuitously through the legal idea of exception,

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another important restraint imposed on mors voluntaria religiosa is the idea of decision or resolve (samkalpa ). The idea of decision or resolve is first given religious significance in the context of Vedic ritual. The declaration of intent to perform a sacrifice is formalized (samkalpa). So important is this pronouncement of intent that the ensuing action and even goal is but the automatic sequel of the resolve (with the qualification that the action be done properly). The resolve or will, therefore, generates a power and this willpower, so to

speak, can define destiny. Over time, the concept of samkalpa* extends beyond the sacrificial context to other types of religious practises, mors voluntaria religiosa notwithstanding.

According to Mimamsa*, the idea of command (vidhi) is related to apurva* or capability that always comes into existence as a result of action. If we understand public declaration of intent (samkalpa*) as analogous to a command (vidhi) in that it is also viewed as a source of law (see atmatusti* below), then because samkalpa* always relates to action and every

action has productive force (bhavana*), this action:

produces the capability (yogyata*) in the agent to hold as his own the fruit declared by law as of that action. This capability, which was absent before the action and has come into existence only as the result of that action, is known as 'Apurva*' in Mimamsa . This apurva rests in the agent of the action even after the overt act has perished, and continues to exist till the fruit of the action is realized. .. This apurva* rests in the agent, for the act also rests in him" (Deshpande 1971, 154): [One must act according to

law not to obtain rewards but] "because my act will make me capable (adhikrta*) for artha i.e. what is conducive to good or welfare. Thus the ultimate sanction of law is 'Moral'. The codana*' determines the validity, while 'artha' determines the value of Law (dharma). This is the nature of apurva* according to the Mimamsa*, which is the ultimate sanction of the rule of Dharma (codana* punarasambhah*) (2.1.5). The rules of law exist because this apurva* exists Every right or claim has to come into being as a result of Duty

fulfilled ... Hence it is, that Mimamsa* jurisprudence starts with the analysis of Duty and not of right. (Deshpande 1971, 155-56)

The five sources of law in descending authority are (1) sruti*(revealed or declared law which is authoritative because "The word of law is potent enough to convey the intended meaning and does not depend on anything else for conveying it (anapeksatvat*)" (Deshpande 1971, 154); (2) smrti* (law as formulated by the authors of the Dharmasutras* and Dharmasastras ; (3) sadacara (custom); and (4) atmatusti* which originates in the desire born of right intention (samyaksamkalpaja*) of those who act within the limits of the above sources of law.

Now we are in a position to understand why to will death. To will death

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is so powerful that it can burn up bad karma and thereby expiate sin. It can produce good karma and thereby direct destiny, including a visit to heaven. And it can even dramatically influence the course of destiny by (1) eliminating all karmas that cause bondage thereby triggering salvation, or (2) appealing to the Supreme Deity's grace to recognize this supreme self- sacrifice. Given the promise of these effects,

we understand the importance of the intention (samkalpa *), which is SO intimately related to the goal (artha) through the intervening idea of willpower. This idea of formal (and publicly announced) intention and the resultant will power helps to separate the phenomenon of mors voluntaria religiosa from suicide done usually in private out of passion, depression, and so forth.

While Brahmin jurists endorsed euthanasia for themselves as well as others in the society, they also continued to acknowledge, by the sheer weight of tradition, some practises of self- willed death performed by Ksatriyas* as legitimate for that caste. The epics and later inscriptions, for example, reveal customs related to older forms of heroic mors voluntaria. The great journey to death (mahaprasthana*) described in the Mahaprasthanika* Parva16 of the Mahabharata* involves a circumambulation through various kingdoms (representative of the earth) until death occurs. Mahaprasthana* was possibly prefigured in the

Ksatriya* custom of withdrawing to the forest (which, we argued, was sacramentalized in the purusamedha* and sarvamedha (rituals) as well as in the Jaina ideal of fasting to death (sallekhana*).

Apararka* (p. 877) and Par. M. (I. part 2, p. 228) quote several verses from Adipurana* about dying by fasting, by entering fire or deep water or by falling from a precipice, or by going on mahaprasthana* in the Himalayas* or by abandoning life from the branch of the vata tree at Prayaga*, the verses declaring that not only does such a man not incur sin but he attains the worlds of bliss. In the Ramayana* (Aranya* chap. 9) Sarabhanga* is said to have entered fire. We find that the Mrcchakatika* (I.4) speaks of king Sudraka* as having

entered fire. In the Gupta Inscriptions No. 42, the great Emperor Kumaragupta* is said to have entered the fire of dried cowdung cakes . . . . The Rajatarangini* (VI. 1411) refers to officers appointed by the king to superintend prayopavesa* (resolving on death by fasting). (Kane 1974, 2:927)

The idea of self-willed death by a yogi or enlightened one (jivanmukta*), however, generated considerable debate among Brahmin thinkers. They often disagreed regarding legitimation of this form of mors voluntaria religiosa. This is curious because there are two obvious connections between self-willed death by an ascetic and religion: being beyond passion, and being able to will one's death. The idea that

the enlightened one (jivanrnukta*) is passionless builds on the logic that the jivanmukta* is indifferent to life and

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death, either because there is no reason to will death or there is no reason not to will death. Theoretically, one is totally indifferent to the body after enlightenment and indifferent to whether one lives or dies. Accordingly, the yogi may or may not will death. A structural opposition develops between the idea of suicide as done by an individual out of passion and the self-willed death by an enlightened one who is completely beyond passion. We may think that such a structural opposition creates firm

boundaries to the phenomenon of self-willed death by the ascetic. This, however, was not the case, for there was also the alternative view that there could be no final enlightenment until there was elimination of the karmas that defined the physical existence of the body. The body, in other words, was a constant reminder that final enlightenment had not yet been achieved. A yogi, therefore, may choose to eliminate the body through self-willed death in order to attain enlightenment.

There may have been several reasons for Brahmanical reluctance to endorse self- willed death by a yogi. One, of course, was the Brahmanical penchant to live out the entire life span, as .advocated in the Rg * Veda. Because a number of Brahmins may have become ascetics and were attracted to the idea of self-willed death, Brahmin thinkers may have been particularly reluctant to endorse this form of mors voluntaria religiosa. Unlike the case of euthanasiawhere extreme human suffering may be involved or the individual was virtually at the end of the

natural life spanthe self- willed death of an ascetic may have appeared to others as robbing life at its prime. If Brahmins and others were attracted to asceticism in early or middle age, their self- willed death may have been perceived as a loss for society, not to mention the families involved. Then, too, perhaps the practise of self- willed death was abused in that it became an easy way to attain enlightenment and bypassed years of asceticism and meditation. This returns us to the idea that the intention (samkalpa*) to die and the resulting will power are so powerful that

they can destroy karma, in this case all the karmas that create bondage. If some Brahmins were accepting the idea of a quick and easy means to enlightenment, then we appreciate Brahmanical ambiguity regarding the practise of self- willed death by an ascetic and the underlying logic that could be exploited.

The Mahabharata* makes passing reference to the fast to death by one who has gone to the end of the Veda (presumably, one who is enlightened) and who is twice-born (dvija: a Brahmin, Ksatriya* or Vaisya*).

sariramutsrjettatra* vidhipuravamanasake*| adhruvam* jivitam* jnatva* yo vai vedantago* dvijah*||

abhyarcya devatastatra* namaskrtya* munimstatha*| tatah* siddho divam* gacched brahmalokam* sanatanam*||

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A twice-born (dvija) gone to the end of the Veda, knowing that life is impermanent, may abandon the body thereby fasting to death according to prescription. After worshipping the gods and honouring the munis, the siddha may go to heaven, the eternal realm of brahma . (Anusasana parva 25.63-64) The Bhagavad- Gita* (17.6), however, disapproves of starving the body:

karsayantah* sarirastham bhutagramamacetasah| mam* caivantah* sarirastham* tan* viddhyasuraniscayan*||

Those who mindlessly starve the composite of elements which is situated in the body, know them to be of demonic resolve. While the Bhagavad- Gita* does not address the issue of self-willed death directly, it does place great importance on one's thought at the time of death determining one's future state:

antakale* ca mameva* smaranmuktva* kalevaram|| yah* prayati* sa madbhavam* yati* nastyatra* samsayah*|| (Gita*)

And at the time of death, whoever leaves the body remembering Me alone, he attains my being. There is no doubt about this.

yamyam* vapi* smaranbhavam* tyajatyante kalevaram| tamtamevaiti* kaunteya sada* tadbhavabhavitah*|| (Gita* 8:6)

Or also what ever state of being he thinks of when he gives up the body at the end, that very state he obtains, O Kaunteya, always becoming that being.

The first verse suggests that mediation on God at the hour of death will lead to salvation. The second verse indicates that other thoughts will lead to rebirth, whether in lower heaven, on earth, or in hell. Full consciousness at the moment of death is extremely important. It is pivotal to one's destiny and may even hold the key to salvation. Because the Gita* takes a stand against premature renunciation of action and severe asceticism

leading to self-willed death, it may reflect a Brahmanical agenda to substitute a thought for the practise of self-willed death. In other words, what one thinks at the moment of death, one becomes or attains.

This thought, which accomplishes what is desired (much as samkalpa* does) becomes an attractive solution to maintain the natural life span. Furthermore, a thought is much easier than death, and such substitution helps the Brahmins to compete with the ideology of self-willed death with its

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promise of attaining the ultimate goal. In this respect, it may be one solution to the issues surrounding self-willed death, one also that is capable of great popularity, for it is both easy and universally available. (In the later devotional tradition (bhakti) these ideas are popularized. One desired not only to think of God at the moment of death, but also to be at a holy place and to die there. Heaven or salvation could be achieved by

this moment's thought, especially at the right place.)

According to Manu (6.49), a mark of one who has attained liberation is that he is indifferent to everything: "Let him not desire to die, let him not desire to live; let him wait for [his appointed] time, as a servant [waits] for the payment of his wages" (Bühler 1967, 207). But Manu (6.31-32) says that the ascetic may die "fully determined and going straight on, in a northeasterly direction, subsisting on water and air, until his body sinks to rest. A Brahmana *,

having eliminated his body by one of those modes practised by the great sages, is exalted in the world of Brahman, free from sorrow and fear" (Buhler 1967, 204). In the same text (6.76-78), we read:

Let him quit this dwelling, composed of the five elements, where the bones are the beams, which is held together by tendons (instead of cords), where the flesh and the blood are the mortar, which is thatched with the skin, which is foul- smelling, filled with urine and odure, infested by old age and sorrow, the seat of disease, harassed by pain, gloomy

with passion, and perishable. He who leaves this body, [be it by necessity] as a tree [that is torn from] the river- bank, or [freely] like a bird [that] quits a tree, is freed from the misery [of this world, dreadful like] a shark (Bühler 1967, 212).

The statements of Manu appear on the surface to be contradictory. On the one hand, the liberated one (jivanmukta*) is to wait for his appointed time of death. On the other hand, he may will his death freely on one of the modes practised by the sages. It is possible to reconcile these two statements by suggesting that Manu, in general, does not want the jivanmukta* to terminate his life prematurely. In other words, self-willed death should ideally occur in old age when the natural time of death is approaching. Manu (6.31) does allow a forest hermit suffering from incurable disease and unable to perform the duties of his order to start on the Great Journey (mahaprasthanagamana* walking until death overcomes).

Patanjali* (Yoga Sutras* 3.21) says that by control (samyama*, inclusive of the last three limbs of yoga) over karma that is fast-in- fruition (sopakrama) and slow (nirupakrama) comes knowledge of death (aparantajnana*). In other words, the yogi understands karma to be of two kinds. With reference to the past karma or prarabdha*, which will come to fruition in this life, he can have power over it through samyama *. One of his powers, (vibhuti *;

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siddhi) is the ability to know, and more importantly, to determine the time of death. Accordingly, one of the eight siddhas enumerated by Patanjali * is prakamya : or the power of an irresistible will, which enables one to obtain anything simply by desiring it. Another power is isitva (sovereignty) by which one can rule "over all things and enjoy unrivalled glory becoming like a god, and even create and destroy creatures, past, present, and future"

(Walker 1968, 2:349). A yogi can will to live or to detach his subtle body from his physical body. Consequently, he can temporarily disappear or create the outward appearance of death and change bodies. The idea that a yogi can know/ determine the time of death suggests that he also has the power to voluntarily transmigrate. These siddhis, however, are to be distinguished from those powers that will put an end to the slow (nirupakrama) karmas,

which will come to fruition only in future lives. Patañjali does not address directly the question of the self- willed death of the enlightened one, yet his discussion of samyama* and the siddhis provides scope for extending the discussion to the context of one who is enlightened. For, in the final life when no slow karmas remain, a jivanmukta* should be able to know/ determine the time of death. He creates no new karmas and, as before, has power over

the fast- moving (sopakrama) karmas. Consequently, he is able to determine the time of death. By knowing the time of death, he can determine death. And by determining death, he may make sure that the body is eliminated at the appropriate moment. This logic can be derived from Patanjali *.

If Patanjali* does not spell out the possibility of the self-willed death of the enlightened one, the Jabalopanisad*, recognized as a late text by most scholars, does. In general, however, it seems that Brahmins were reluctant to endorse self- willed death for Brahmin ascetics or jivanmuktas* (unless, following Manu, it was done toward the very end of the natural life span). It may be concluded that acceptance of the natural life span or self- willed death virtually at the moment of natural death (as in the case

of euthanasia) was generally endorsed by Brahmins for themselves. Samkara* (788-838 C.E.), for example, argues that one must live out one's life to allow the karmas to come to fruition. He implies that the moment of natural death signals the moment when there are no more karmas that create bondage.

We should understand that right knowledge is the cause which renders all actions impotent. But the action by which this body has been brought into existence will come as an end only when their effects will have been fully worked out; for, those actions have already commenced their effects. Thus wisdom can destroy only such actions as have not yet begun to produce their effects, whether they are actions

done in this birth before the rise of knowledge and along with knowledge, or those done in the many previous births. (Samkara's* commentary on Bhagavad Gita* 4.37; Sastri 1972, 150)

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The Brahmanical desire to live out the natural life span is most apparent in the theory of the four asramas , which is gradually expounded in the Dharmasastras . The idea of four distinct stages of life is grafted onto the ancient Vedic idea of the long, good life. The ideal of a hundred years remains, presumably to allow time for the stages of studentship (brahmacarya), householdership (grhastha), retirement to the forest (vanaprastha) and wandering along (samnyasa*). This plan may be seen as the Hindu version of the middle path, for it seeks a final synthesis of Vedic and Upanisadic* orientations. The

old Vedic values of prosperity and progeny are incorporated into the stage of being a householder. The value of longevity is promoted in the concept of the full allotment of time needed to accomplish all goals. The prescriptions of the Ayurvedic* or medical texts are to be followed to ensure a long, healthy life (mentally, as well as physically, through proper diet, exercise, and discipline). The ideal of vanaprastha* is an acknowledgement of the ascetic's customary withdrawal to the forest and the Ksatriya* custom of withdrawal to provide for a peaceful succession. As such, vanaprastha* may have served a

similar purpose: to encourage disengagement as a way to ease the transfer of power in the family. Moreover, moksa* (or heaven) is incorporated as a goal for the last two stages of life. Individuals are to cultivate a life- affirming attitude, albeit with a yogic discipline, introduced in the very first stage and pursued seriously in the last two stages to nurture disengagement and achieve enlightenment.

Despite Brahmanical reluctance to endorse self- willed death by a yogi, in later times figures such as Jnanadeva* (1275-96 C.E .; a Marathi Brahmin) buried themselves alive on attaining liberation. Jnanadeva*, according to tradition, voluntarily ended his life in his twenties along with his two brothers and sister. They felt "they had accomplished their mission in life" (Walker 1968, 2:505). Another interesting case is the tradition about the Kashmiri savant Abhinavagupta (10th-llth century)

(recounted by R. C. Pandey 1963, 23-25). It is said that, by the time Abhinavagupta started to write his Isvara* Pratyabhijna* Vivrti* Vimarsini*, he had attained liberation (jivanmukta*). The last scene of his earthy existence, upon the completion of his life's work, involved walking with twelve hundred disciples into the Bhairava cave never to be seen again. Pandey visited this cave and discovered that one area was large enough to accommodate forty to fifty people. He concludes that it is plausible that that Abhinavagupta went into the cave with some

followers to take samadhi*, "a natural termination of the earthly life of a person like Abhinavagupta" (p. 25). Before we look at the great popularization of mors voluntaria religiosa that develops and how this, in turn, creates serious questions regarding the practise of euthanasia, it is necessary to take note of some developments in Buddhism. They, too, contributed to this pan-Indian popularization. In the Kathavatthu* i.2 there is recorded the story of Godhika who no

Page 104 longer has the concentration to meditate on account of a painful disease. When he thought of killing himself by the sword, Mara , who represents the antithesis of Buddha and symbolizes evil in the Pali Canon, approaches Buddha and says:

"Your disciple wants to die; he has resolved to die. Prevent him. How could one of your disciples die when he is not yet an arhat?" But, as it is explained in the Abhidharmakosavyakhya*, Godhika reached arhatship just after he began cutting his throat. It is said: "Those who take the sword are without regard for life; they achieve insight (vipassana*) and reach nirvana . " "Thus act the strong ones (dhira); they desire not life; having removed thirst and the root of thirst (that is, ignorance), Godhika is at rest." (De La Val1ée Poussin 1922, 26)

These examples are different from the earlier stories where enlightenment may have been prompted by a suicide attempt, but the enlightenment individual continued to live.

It is the last passage, in particular, that suggests that the practise of religious, self-willed death is being accepted into the Buddhist milieu. Curiously, Mara* here seems to present the normative Buddhist position: that a monk or nun should not die before the natural span of life. The suicide of Godhika must have caused consternation to the monastic community. For the Buddhist teachings and example of Buddha's own life discouraged such solutions. That the question is projected onto the persona of Mara*, and there is no reply from Buddha himself, suggests that the passage may be dated to a time when such Buddhist suicides were becoming more common. The official explanation, which appears in the later text Abhidharmakosavyakhya*, is that Godhika did indeed attain enlightenment at the moment he started to cut his throat. More

importantly, such suicide is given official endorsement. Contrary to the earliest texts of the Canon, a new ideal is presented: the strong one (dhira*) who has no regard for life. The ability to take the sword17 and to end one's life is precisely the state of being beyond attachment.

The Pali* work called The Questions of King Milinda poses a conundrum: a monk is not to commit suicide yet the Buddha said to destroy birth, old age, disease, and death. The wily monk Nagasena* argues that both statements are true. A monk is not to commit suicide because he must be a guide for others, and, at the same time, the Buddha instigated us to put an end to life to get beyond

rebirth. Nagasena's* answer may be interpreted as endorsing self-willed death, if one has served as a guide for others.

Once religious, self-willed death is legitimated in Brahmanism and Buddhism in certain contexts, the practise gradually becomes popular. With Brahmanical support of the path of devotion (bhakti- marga*), the tirthas* or sacred places become one focus of the religious world view, and, more specifically, of mors voluntaria religiosa.

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The concept of tirtha * is fully developed in the Hindu epics, dharmasastras*, puranas*, and agamas . By now we find that tirtha is associated with (1) any water, which is sacred by definition: rivers, lakes, falls, artificial tanks, and by extension any powerful feature of the landscape; (2) cross-roads and fords; (3) the place where the gods have crossed over to be present in this realm, that is, the temple; (4) the place to conquer or cross-over the daily problems of life, therefore the place to request boons from the deities to insure prosperity, posterity, and longevity; (5) the place to cross from one phase of life to another, that is, a place to perform the rites of passage (samskara*); (6) the place to cross from

one life to the next, for example, the desire to die on the banks of the Ganga* or at any tirtha* or to perform the sraddhaceremonies there; (7) the place to cross to another loka, that is, because of an excess of one's good merit (punya) a temporary, "vacation" in the paradise of heaven (svarga) or because of one's demerit (papa*) a temporary "imprisonment" in hell (naraka); and (8) the place to cross to liberation (moksa*). (Young 1980, 63)

Since tirtha* is a place to cross over, it becomes a place for religious, self-willed death. The smrti* literature of the Puranas* and the Sthala- puranas* eulogize the fame of holy places and mors voluntaria religiosa by praising how death there ensures heaven. Such religious propaganda served not only to popularize the pilgrimage places but also, in the final analysis, Brahmanism itself, which

mounted a major ideological offensive after the 4th century C.E. on the heterodox religions by a spirit of universalism and easy accessibility to salvation. (These massive changes may be indicated by the use of the term Hinduism from this period on.)

ya* gatiryogayuktasya samnyastasya manisinah sa* gatistyajatah* pranan* gangayamunasangame*|| akamo* vasakamo va* gangayam* yo vipadyate| sa mrto* jayate* svarge narakam* ca na pasyati*|| (Kurmapurana*, I.37.16.39)

The goal which is obtained by the wise onerenounced, immersed in meditationthe same goal can be achieved by one who has abandoned life at the confluence of the [rivers] Ganga* and Yamuna* Whoever perishes in the Ganga* with desire or without desire conquers death in heaven and does not see hell.

jnanato*'jnanato* vapi* kamato* 'kamato* 'pi va*| gangayam* ca srto* martyah* svargam* moksam* ca vindati|| (Padmapurana* srsti* 60.65)

[Whether] knowingly or even unknowingly, intentionally or even unintentionally, a mortal, having gone [to death] in the Ganga*, obtains Heaven and moksa *.

tasmatsarvaprayatnena* tasmin ksetre* dvijottamah*| dehatyago* naraih* karyah* samyanmoksabhikanksibhih*| (Brahmapurana* 177.25)

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O, best of the twice- born! Therefore the men who are desirous of moksa should sacrifice their bodies with every effort at this holy place.

srisaile * santyajed deham* brahmano* dagdhakilbisah*| mucyate natra* sandeho hyavimukte yatha* subham*|| (Lingapurana*, purvardha* 92.168-9)

A Brahmin whose sins have been destroyed should abandon the body at Srisailam *. Indeed, he is freed from the body here as at Avimukta (Benaras); there is no doubt about it.

It seems that the tirtha* called Prayaga*, situated at the confluence of the great Yamuna* and Ganga* rivers, was the ideal place for death by plunging into the sacred waters. Death here guaranteed immediate attainment of heaven. Similarly, the Ganga* and Varanasi* (Benaras) as the sacred river and holy city par excellence became places for such activity. The idea spread to other holy places, for the Sthala- puranas* advertised the fruit (phala) of pilgrimage (tirthayatra*)

and how easy heaven or easy moksa* was available to all. Just how exaggerated the claims could be is demonstrated above: drowning at the tirtha*, whether voluntary or involuntary, produces the same result: heaven understood here as moksa* itself. (According to Matsyapurana* 105.8-12, remembering Prayaga* at the moment of death secures heaven. This is reminiscent of the Gita *. )

Competing with the Puranas*, which popularize Hinduism, are the texts of Mahayana* Buddhism.

In Mahayana* Buddhism between the 2d and 6th centuries C.E., a new ideal type is popularized: the bodhisattva who vows not to have final enlightenment until all sentient creatures are saved. The bodhisattva dedicates his lives to helping others. The supreme form of gift is none other than self-sacrifice, even a gift of his body to feed a starving animal who is a sentient creature who must be helped and ultimately saved. Such accounts found in the Jataka* stories and Mahayana*

texts must have inspired Buddhist aspirants along the bodhisattva path to sacrifice themselves in imitation of the bodhisattvas described in the texts. In that such sacrifice is productive of merit and that such merit can be transferred to another, Mahayana* ethics resemble the ethics of supererogation of the West.18 Such Buddhist supererogation is carried to the extreme: beginners along the bodhisattva path sacrifice their lives to help another but also to accumulate merit for their

own spiritual progress. We have documented how the early Buddhist perspective is modified to incorporate the practise of religious, self-willed death. The antecedents can be found in the Buddhist texts themselves, though the growing popularity of the practise throughout the society after the 6th century B.C.E. certainly played a role in the Buddhist reevaluation. It is still a difficult

Page 107 question, however, how common such religious deaths were in the Buddhist Order. The Chinese Buddhist monk I Tsing (682-727 C.E.) notices on his travels to India that Buddhists there abstain from suicide and self- torture, unlike the Chinese Buddhist monks. 19

It is not surprising that Jainism (which was the first of the major Indian religions to advocate religious voluntary death) extends this practise to the laity. In the Uttaradhyayana*, the Upasaka-dasah*, and the Sagaradharmamrtathere is appeal to the laity to enter the Order, at least in the last stage of life.20 The Uttaradhyayana (V.3) puts the matter succinctly: "Death against one's will is that of ignorant men, and it happens (to the same individual) many times. Death with one's will is that of wise men, and at best it happens but once" (Jacobi 1895, 20). Over time, sallekhana* is extended to the laity, without the intermediary stage of mendicancy. Four different

contexts for the fast to death are enumerated in the Jaina law books: (I) unavoidable calamity (upasarga), which includes captivity by an enemy [and no doubt derives from the context of heroic mors voluntaria]; (2) great famine durbhiksa*), (3) old age (jara*), especially when problems of disease, weakness, and senility start; and (4) severe illness (nihpratikararuja*). Once again, we find close association between religious, self-willed death and old age and severe disease, which brings us to the context of euthanasia.

In the Jaina context of euthanasia, sallekhana* is carefully regulated. One should obtain forgiveness and give forgiveness. One is to make a formal vow (mahavratamarana*) after discussing all sins with the preceptor. Once the vow is taken, the attention is to be focused on scripture. Meditation on the real nature of the self is to be done while one abstains gradually from food and water. At the very end, just before the soul departs from the body, the mantra namokar is to be repeated. The necessary involvement of a guru and the making of a formal vow (analogous to samkalpa*) by the lay person who is extremely ill is a

change from ancient times when a Jaina mendicant could start the fast on his/her own. The practise is now virtually a ritual under control of the Order.

The popularity of the practise of Jaina sallekhana* is attested by numerous inscriptions, which became common after the 7th century C.E. (see Tukol 1976, 18-63). The epitaph on a stone slab, in short, serves as a memorial. (These Jaina memorial stones raise the question of the connection of the Jaina fast to death and the descriptions of heroic death and the hero

and sati* stones as well as the practise of warriors fasting to death in the Tamil Cankam texts.) Because of the prestige and popularity of sallekhana* as the ideal Jaina death, a preferred option, it is fitting that the universal Jaina prayer is: "Cessation of sorrow, Cessation of karmas, Death while in meditation, the attainment of enlightenment; O holy Jina! friend of the entire universe, let

Page 108 these be mine, For I have taken refuge at your feet" (quoted by Jaini 1979, 226-7, italics added). To conclude, between the 6th century B.C.E. and the 10th century C.E. there was increasing prohibition against suicide at the same time that there was popularization of religious, self-willed death. This development affected Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism.

Euthanasia was accepted by all religions. Brahmins, it seems, gave legitimation to euthanasia by viewing it as mors voluntaria religiosa and by defining certain limits to distinguish it from suicide. Brahmins also continued to acknowledge some forms of Ksatriya * mors voluntaria, especially where a connection to religion could be made. They were more reluctant to legitimize mors voluntaria religiosa by enlightened

or virtually enlightened individuals, despite such religious dimensions as samkalpa* or the state of being completely beyond passion. This reluctance, we argued, was because Brahmins themselves were often involved. Buddhists also were reluctant to endorse religious, self-willed death, but they, too, gave the practise textual legitimation. While the practise was rare in India, it became more common in Chinese Buddhism.

Eventually, Brahmanism (as it underwent transformation to Hinduism through its involvement in yoga and bhakti), Buddhism (especially through its transformation to Mahayana*), and Jainism all compete with each other by stressing their universalism and by offering easy means to heaven or enlightenment. In this context, mors voluntaria religiosa becomes even more popular.

In the next section we shall see that as religious popularity grew, it was more difficult to maintain the distinctions between mors voluntaria religiosa (including euthanasia) and suicide. This resulted in reevaluation of euthanasia. V. Criticisms of Religious, Self- Willed Death From the 10th Century C.E.

Religious propaganda regarding self-willed death was so blatant that the numbers of deaths instigated by such hyperbole may have increased considerably. Some lawgivers began to rethink the category by the 10th century C.E., as Hinduism emerged triumphant over Buddhism and Jainism. The Hindu lawgiver, Gautama had already opined "that no mourning need be observed for those who willfully meet death by fasting, or by cutting

themselves off with a weapon, or by fire or poison or water or by hanging or by falling from a precipice" (Kane 1974, 2: 926). Since no sraddha* ceremonies or mourning was to be done for someone who committed suicide proper, we may assume that Gautama classified the above ways of death, which may also be means of mors voluntaria religiosa, as suicide.

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While there was an occasional attempt to bar religious, voluntary death on the basis of sruti , it was only in texts describing the Kalivarjyas (dated by Kane from the 10th century C.E.) that we find systematic prohibition of the practise. The Kalivarjyas are actions once authorized in sruti or smrti*, which are discarded by the consensus of the good people in the Kali Age in order to guard people from the loss of dharma. In essence, they become a means to

instigate reform. Significantly, mahaprasthana*, or going on the Great Journey by an ascetic suffering from an incurable disease, and the religious, voluntary death of very old people by falling into a fire or from a precipice (Kane 1974, 3: 939, 958-9) are now prohibited. The Suddhitattva* holds the view that religious death is allowed in the Kaliyuga only to sudras . Others, for example, Nilakantha, in his commentary on the Mahabharata*, argues that Vanaparva 85.83 refers to

natural death at Prayaga*, not self-willed death. The Tirthaprakasa* forbids only Brahmins from performing religious death there. So strong is the debate over religious, voluntary death that those who do not forbid such death nonetheless place increasing restrictions on the practise. Kane (1974, 4: 609) notes that the Tristhalisetu* forbids the act by one who must support his old parents or young wife and children or by a woman who is pregnant, has young children, or

has not received the permission of her husband.

The Kalivarjya prohibitions and the underlying debate point to a situation of abuse. This leads us to the question: was euthanasia prohibited simply because of its association with mors voluntaria religiosa or was it, too, subject to abuse? On account of the limited number of textual references, it is difficult to determine the answer. There are certainly some latent dangers in the practise of euthanasia. While euthanasia was always defined as an option and an

individual had the moral responsibility to make sure that it was a legitimate case and not a situation of suicide or murder, for which he/she would go to hell, there may well have been pressures to will death. Take, for example, the religious idea of withdrawing to the forest (vanaprastha*). As we have seen, such withdrawal was ostensibly to allow a man and perhaps his wife to begin the quest for liberation proper after their royal or family duties were finished. But they may

also have faced pressures from the family to leave home and delegate their authority and financial resources to the younger generation. Such social pressure with its political and economic dimension may have led to a sense of abandonment, rejection, and pessimism on the part of the elderly. This, in turn, may have led to walking into fire or jumping from a cliff, more as a form of suicide than an act to attain the supreme goal. It is possible, then, that euthanasia was abused.

Despite the fact that euthanasia was the first form of self- willed death that Brahmins accepted, it is noteworthy that when euthanasia became a problem for society, a number of thinkers spoke out strongly against it and tried to formalize their protest as the Kalivarjya prohibitions. Of course, if

Page 110 mors voluntaria religiosa in general had become a serious problem for society, euthanasia, too, would come under scrutiny, since it belonged to this category of self-willed death. Probably abuse of both euthanasia proper and mors voluntaria religiosa accounts for the prohibition of euthanasia at this time.

Alberuni observed (11th century C.E.) the Hindu custom of religious, voluntary death including euthanasia and noted that, despite a special law prohibiting Brahmins and Ksatriyas * from the practise, it was still done.

Now as regards the right of the body of the living, the Hindus would not think of burning it save in the case of a widow who chooses to follow her husband, or in the case of those who are tired of their life, who are distressed over some incurable disease of their body, some irremovable bodily defect, or old age and infirmity. This, however, no man of distinction does, but only Vaisyas* and

Sudras*ially at those times which are prized as the most suitable for a man to acquire in them, for a future repetition of life, a better form and condition than that in which he happens to have been born and to live. Burning oneself is forbidden to Brahmans and Kshatriyas by a special law. Therefore these, if they want to kill themselves, do so at the time of an eclipse in some other manner, or

they hire somebody to drown them in the Ganges, keeping them under water till they are dead.

At the junction of the two rivers, Yamuna* and Ganges, there is a great tree called Prayaga*, a tree of the species called vata* Here the Brahmans and Kshatriyas are in the habit of committing suicide by climing up the tree and throwing themselves into the Ganges. (Sachau 1971, 170-171)

Despite the extended debate and the Kalivarjya prohibitions, the custom of dying at a tirtha* had such textual support in the smrtis* and was so supported by popular imagination that it proved difficult to eliminate. With the vociferous critiques of the Christian missionaries, however, the debate, reopened. Abbé J. A. Dubois, writing at the end of the 19th century, offered his caustic comment: "There are still fanatics to be found

who solemnly bind themselves to commit suicide, under the conviction that by the performance of the mad act they will ensure for themselves the immediate enjoyment of supreme blessedness" (Dubois 1959, 521).

There is one other aspect of religious, voluntary death that contributed to the modern legal definition of suicide. That is the debate (also internal to Hinduism though intensified by missionary attacks) over the practise of sati *.

The word sati* literally means a "good woman" but conventionally refers to the act of sati*, self- immolation of a woman on the funeral pyre of her husband or a woman who performs the act. We have already suggested that sati* may be traced to a form of mors voluntaria heroica in the warrior circles

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in the Gangetic plain. Our reconstruction suggested that the women associated with warriors willed their death to avoid rape, capture, or death, especially when their husbands were captured or killed in battle. Gradually, the practise extended beyond Ksatriya * circles. By the time of the Mitaksara* (14th century C. E. or later), sati* is promoted as the ideal for all women. The medieval writers usually say such an act is dharmic because a woman is

always "to follow her husband." Thus, sati* is the act of a woman joining the cremation of her husband. Moreover her action is considered religious, not suicidal, nor motivated by a desire to escape the plight of the inauspicious widow for a number of reasons. The result of her action is said to secure heaven immediately for herself and her husband. The orientation of a sati* may be termed patiyoga, discipline for and union with (yoga) the husband/ god (pati) (Hejib and

Young, n.d.). For these reasons, then, it may be argued that sati* belongs to the category of religious, self- willed death. By the medieval period, it was considered a "good death," even the ideal death, for a Hindu woman. Like the epitaphs of the Jaina nuns who performed sallekhana*, memorial stones eulogizing the sati* and her greatness were erected.

There were some, however, who opposed the practise of sati . Aspects of the debate over sati emerge in Vijnanesvara's* commentary called the Mitaksara*, on the Yajnavalkya* Smrti . Vijnanesvara himself supports sati* and rebuts carefully those who do not. His discussion enables us to reconstruct what where common objections to sati . One objection raised is that the rule of sati does not apply to Brahmin widows. (Significantly, prohibition of sati* is not included in the

Kalivarjya rules. The above objection, however, sounds as though it belongs to those debates.) Another objection mentioned is that suicide is prohibited for both women and men because it involves "inordinate love of enjoying heaven" which transgresses "a prohibitory rule of law (which forbids suicide)" (Vidyarnava* 1974, 168). Finally, the objection is raised that one who wishes moksa* should not die before the end of natural life, for the sake of attaining heaven, which

is a temporary pleasure. In these objections we find a concern to ensure the natural life span, which we now recognize as a longstanding Brahmin position. One way to support the natural life span was to shift interest away from heaven by viewing heaven as a lower realm and transient pleasure, an idea conveniently found in the early concept of heaven (svarga). Once heaven is devalued in the scheme of things, then sati* and other forms of mors voluntaria religiosawhich made heaven the automatic

result of self- willed deathlost status as salvific acts. Such an attempt to replace the bhakti ideal of supreme heaven by the notion of svarga, however, was doomed to failure. In short, it was difficult to argue against the idea of religious self- willed death. The overlap of the phenomena of sati*, mors voluntaria religiosa, and suicide remained.

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In the forthcoming book: Sati: Historical and Phenomenological Essays (Sharma et al. n.d.), Arvind Sharma traces vociferous foreign criticisms of the act from the time of the early Greeks in India to the Muslims, Christian missionaries, and the British Raj. Because of the sensationalism of eyewitness accounts, Christian religious propaganda against "heathen practises," and even the Raj's justification of British rule on the basis of the need to foster morality in the population, Hindu leaders such as Raja Rammohun Roy take up the cause of reform.

All this leads to Regulation XVII of 1829, which declared the burning or burying alive of widows to be culpable homicide. With religious propaganda, on the one hand, and critiques of Hindu religious, self-willed death, on the other hand, the question remains whether voluntary death in Buddhism and Jainism was also subject to such debate. Santideva * (about 700 C.E.), a Buddhist, had already questioned in his Siksasarmuccaya* whether the sacrifice of one's body is really useful to one's fellow creatures:

In what measure is a disciplea beginnerto imitate the heroic deeds of the bodhisattvas of old? The disciple is ready, willing and resolved even to commit sin and to burn in hell for the sake of another, not to mention sacrificing his limbs and body; but he must avoid any mistake in the realization of his resolve. The question is whether in such and such a case sacrifice or

self-denial is really useful to our fellow creatures; whether there is not some other means of procuring universal welfare. To sum up, the sacrifice of one's body is not in accordance with a wise estimate of the spiritual needs of a beginner. (De La Vallée Poussin 1922, 26)

Since Buddhism by the 11th century was in rapid decline and would soon disappear from the Indian subcontinent, the question of religious, voluntary death for Buddhists in India became a non-issue. It is interesting, however, that the Jainas continue to defend the custom of sallekhana *.

In every case, Jaina teachers are careful to stress the need for "pure means" in undertaking a "controlled" death. They object strenuously, for example, to the sort of practice described in certain Hindu scriptures wherein yogins of a young age and good health are voluntarily entombed while in meditation, hoping to please their gods and attain endless bliss by this "self- offering." Jumping from holy peaks or

disappearing into the sea while in deep trance are similarly decried. Though Jainas are willing to ascribe good (spiritual) motives to individuals who commit such acts, they nevertheless consider these forms of suicide to be absolutely improper and to lead one only to rebirth in hell. Jaina tradition is adamant on this point. (Jaini 1979, 228).

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In other words, Jainas join in the critique of Hindu, self- willed death but justify their own version, which is described as carefully regulated. In fact, Justice Tukol, who is one of the first to challenge the modern Indian legal definition of suicide (see Introduction), is a Jaina. In the preface to his book Sallekhana * Is Not Suicide (1976, Foreword p. 3), there is an account of the fast to death in 1976 by the mother of Shri Chimanlal Chakubhai Shah, a

leading solicitor of Bombay:

She was suffering from jaundice. Medicines did not show good results. Doctors apprehended cancer of liver. She understood everything. She left medicines. She avoided solid food. After that she did not take even liquid food. She did not take in glucose through veins. Doctors advised her to get admitted to the hospital. But she requested her relatives to allow her to shun her body peacefully. She had no

attachment to her body. She had no desire to prolong her life. Gradually her body waned but her mind was firm and peaceful. She took the vow of Sallekhana (= Santharo*) from Shri Kantirushiji, a Jain monk. She heard religious songs and cattari* mangala . On hearing the fourth mangala she passed away peacefully. It was 17th April 1976.

With the longstanding Jaina promotion of sallekhana* and its close association with old age and disease, it is not surprising that it is rediscovered in the modern world to deal with cases of terminal illness when treatment becomes ineffective. It is likely that future discussions may be spurred by the Jainas, for whom the fast to death is still an ideal. For they may argue, on the basis of text and history, that it is a good death and thus is relevant to

the modern debate. Then again, Hindus, too, may be interested in the contemporary relevance of the fast to death. A Hindu equivalent of sallekhana* in the vernacular languages of North India is prayopavesana* (abstaining from food and awaiting in a sitting posture the approach of death). Two modern Hindus who died in this manner are Savarkar, a Maharastrian freedom fighter who fasted to death in 1966 at the age of 83 and Vinoba Bhave who died by

prayopavesana* in 1982. VI. Conclusion The question arises: what can India today learn from the modern Western debate in the light of her own history on this topic and what can the West learn from traditional Indian views on euthanasia?

Perusal of the history of mors voluntaria religiosa including euthanasia in Hindu texts in the light of Buddhist and Jaina developments leads to appreciation of the importance of the interpretation of suicide in the Indian Penal Code written during the British Raj. The interpretation of the Indian

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legal definition of suicide as inclusive of mors voluntaria religiosa surely is a reflection of the longstanding debate internal to Hinduism, which was intensified by the missionaries' focus on the custom as inhumane and a fault of Hinduism itself. Although the definition of suicide was based on British law, it proved useful to help put an end to a variety of practises of self-willed death. While mors voluntaria religiosa was always

viewed as an option based on the choice of the individual, there were certainly religious pressures for choosing this option, especially when it became a sign of, or a way to, enlightenment or heaven. There were also social pressures to instigate a person to choose mors voluntaria religiosa, such as pressure on the king or on elderly parents to leave the family as a way of transferring power to the next generation. The overlap in the methods of

suicide and the methods of religious, self-willed death generated ambiguity, despite the strict legal definitions, making it often difficult for the individual and others to know what the real motivation was. This was especially true of the phenomenon of sati * It was eulogized, on the one hand, as the ideal death for a good woman and, on the other hand, may have appeared to the woman herself as preferable to the severe restrictions and social abuse of widowhood

(therefore making sati* into a type of suicide). Or, it may have appeared to the relatives as a way to eliminate a dependent and potentially disruptive female from their midst and take her financial resources (therefore making sati* into a type of homocide).

The Brahmanical jurists and thinkers tried to eliminate such situations of ambiguity, but they obviously could not control all the extenuating circumstances. That they may have participated in the promotion of the religion by eulogizing self-willed death as an easy way to attain liberation or heaven means that they were sometimes willing to overcome their own misgivings if such propaganda were advantageous. Ensuring the loyalty of the Ksatriyas*,

enhancing their clientele through promoting devotion (bhakti) as a universal religion and way to easy salvation, and safeguarding patriarchal control over women as in the case of sati* were cases in point.

In sum, although there were attempts to prevent abuse, abuse did occur. Accordingly, euthanasia became a social issue and topic for debate. Euthanasia in the context of debilitating old age and severe diseasewhile originally endorsed by the jurists as an exception to the general rule to await the natural end of life (even for Brahmins, which suggests they felt keenly the merits of the case)was

swept up into the general debate over mors voluntaria religiosa. Perhaps because householder Brahmins were involved, euthanasia became one of the first forms of religious, self-willed death to be prohibited. One lesson to be learned from this study of euthanasia in the ancient Hindu context is that it is extremely difficult to limit self- willed death to certain contexts and to prevent abuse even

when there is a strong

Page 115 religious disposition to live out the natural life span. A more general lesson to be learned from this discussion is that there is need to be constantly on guard to prevent abuse of euthanasia; we should not forget that today's large classes of the elderly and of individuals seeking permanent relief from AIDS, are potential victims of abuse in the West, as well. 21

The issue of euthanasia in India is now being reopened since problems raised by advanced medical technology, which sparked the Western re- evaluation of euthanasia, are becoming an ethical agenda in India as well. While Jaina spokesmen have argued on behalf of the contemporary relevance of sallekhana* as a good death, the issue is sufficiently complex to necessitate analysis of all the factors involved. It may be argued that the paradigm of self-willed

death has modern relevance or it may be argued that, because of past history, Indian law should maintain its definition of suicide as inclusive of mors voluntaria religiosa, including self-willed death in cases of debilitating old age and terminal illness.

The first approach does not debate the delicate question of whether any form of hastening death is morally justified, but builds on the classical Indian acceptance of self-willed death in cases of debilitating old age and severe illness in the light of modern discussions. Although the traditional Indian perspective had severe illness as one of the permissible situations for self-willed death, the overlap of this special context and other forms of religious,

voluntary death tended to make the boundaries poorly defined. It may be argued, as Hindus have done, that, when self- willed death is accepted today on the basis of precedent in the Indian context, there should be an attempt to define strict boundaries. To maximize the respect for and support of life, death should be limited legally to cases of terminal illness. Furthermore, to ensure that the situation is veritably one of terminal illness, the

medical profession must be involved. In other words, precaution must be taken to ensure that the decision for self-willed death is not made independently by the individual, given any difficult situation, but that dire circumstances are medically pronounced.

The Jaina practise in the past involved the preceptor and, by extension, the Jaina Order in the decision making and implementation for the laity. Any modern support for self-willed death should mitigate against autonomy of practise but also provide criteria for universal permissibility and control. Accordingly, the Jaina view of the ideal death as sallekhana* before disease sets in (in order to ensure the individual's control and mastery over the time of death) and the Hindu ideal of prayopavesana* need to be

reevaluated so that life is not terminated prematurely. It may be argued that fasting to death in cases of terminal illness should be recognized for all Indians who face this situation, not just Jainas. That Hindus, as well, practised fasting to death provides scope for such accep-

Page 116 tance by the majority. While religious groups may be called upon to help provide palliative care, religious counselling, and support, the broader framework should be medical diagnosis.

Then, too, Hindus have voiced concern that reassessment of self-willed death must proceed cautiously to ensure that any appeal to religious precedent does not reopen the larger issue of other forms of religious, voluntary death. A careful hermeneutic by religious leaders based on the affirmation of a long life (which was so central to the Vedas, the Hindu scripture par excellence, and shared generally by the other Indian religions, as well) should be developed.

It may be asserted that with support of long life at the forefront of national and religious consciousness, self-willed death in cases of terminal illness may be safely reintroduced. By limiting the means of self-willed death to fasting, the overlap with other forms of religious deathwhich, for Hindus, included jumping from a precipice, into a river, or fire, and so onewould be avoided and with them the ambiguous boundary with suicide proper, which also involved such means. The issue of fasting is

currently an important question in Western legal thought. While there is general acceptance of the conscious withdrawal of food in cases of terminal illness as a way of hastening death, there are many in the medical profession who feel that this act should not be done in hospitals with the support of those in the medical profession, because it involves doctors in a basic conflict: to prolong life or to condone that death be hastened. For those who accept fasting as a way to hasten death,

it is acknowledged that one can refuse food oneself and that such refusal may be stated in advance in a living will. If one compares fasting to death and withdrawal of treatment, then they are both similar in that they involve an omission, that is food or life support. They are different in that the former is a sustained act of willpower, which is why it is sometimes viewed as a positive act of killing the self. But since fasting to death involves primarily the self and not the doctor's

active intervention aside from the diagnosis of terminal illness, it may be more acceptible medically and legally. The real problem is the comatose person who is incompetent to make a decision. The question is whether a court order is necessary to make it legally acceptable to omit food.

Furthermore, it may be argued that the above definition of self-willed death would allow a religious dimension of dying to be preserved in situations of terminal illness, albeit under careful medical and legal regulation. In the final analysis, a good death is related to a meaningful death. One way to maintain a meaningful death, at least in a religious society such as India, is to recognize that its meaning is central to the religious Weltanschauung and religious practises of a lifetime. Similarly, meaningful death may be related to a

willingness to come to terms with impending death. It may be contended that, to the degree that the individual prepares

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for natural death by recognizing its imminent approach, then he/she may lessen the fear of death by the power of decision and the exercise of human will. Taking active charge of, or at least responsibility for, the intervening time between knowledge of imminent death and death itself is a way to come to terms with senseless suffering by deliberately choosing to court meaningful suffering, which can be experienced as a positive act of dying. Participation

of the will in the dying process may provide mental calm and ultimately peace itself. Furthermore, the religious perspective also allows the family to provide support and face the inevitability of death.

In short, it is possible to define self- willed death in such a way that it comes to terms with both modern humanistic and traditionally religious expectations and thereby becomes acceptable to the population at large. Even for the person who does not hold to religious views of death, the act of facing terminal illness with full human awareness and participation may be central to a good, peaceful death. Being

human, which includes the exercise of the will to the very end, is not necessarily a denial of life or in religious terms a loss of hope or refusal to be moral or spiritual, but rather, it may be argued, the very fulfillment of human nature.

In the first approach outlined above, a phenomenological solution is proposed to the issue of self- willed death in modern India that focuses on society's obligation to foster life affirmation, takes into account the traditional religio-cultural framework, and opens the debate to a cross-cultural perspective. This phenomenological solution brings together the modern criterion of medical diagnosis of terminal illness and the traditional idea of fasting to death.

Because some individuals may find it too difficult to fast to death, it may be suggested that the decision to die be aided. Help may involve the withdrawal of food or withdrawal of treatment in hospitals. The question may now be raised: is there justification for euthanasia as compassionate murder when a doctor administers poison to a terminally ill patient, given the traditional Indian views of euthanasia as self-willed death? It may be argued that it is possible to extend the traditional Indian

concept of self-willed death to the modern definition of euthanasia as compassionate murder by suggesting that the traditional Indian public declaration of intention (samkalpa *) is analogous to the modern notion of the patient's consent. Just as in the past, help, such as administering poison, was sometimes allowed once a formal intent was publically declared, so by today's modern definition of euthanasia the doctor helps the patient, once the patient's consent has been given in

eases of terminal illness, by administering an overdose of drugs. While the traditional Indian view placed the emphasis on the will of the individual, the modern Western view places the emphasis on the doctor's action after the patient's consent has been given. Functionally, the two definitions allow for

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both the patient's will and the doctor's help to carry out the decision to die, even though the Indian phenomenon was closer to suicide given the emphasis on self-willed death, while the modern Western phenomenon is closer to murder given the emphasis on the doctor's active role in the death. Once again, it has been noted that both the Indian and the contemporary Western views sharply demarcated the phenomenon of euthanasia from the two extremes of suicide and murder, hence

mors voluntaria religiosa and compassionate murder.

But compassionate murder is not yet legal in the West. Despite the attempt to build a bridge between the traditional Indian view of euthanasia as self-willed death with help and the modern view as the patient's consent with the doctor's help, there is still an important difference when doctors, who are to protect life, are assigned the task of actively hastening death through their intervention. For this reason alone, it may be preferable to keep the conceptual

bridge between fasting to death and termination of treatment, rather than fasting and euthanasia.

Despite the ability of these arguments to address religious and humanistic expectations and thereby to bridge past and present, even East and West, there is another extremely serious issue. Pragmatically speaking, should the issue of self- willed death even be reopened at this point in Indian history? While such forms of religious, self-willed death as death at a tirtha * seem to be safely relegated to the past, some Hindus think that the legal

definition of suicide is necessary to keep a constant check on these practises. The recent resurgence in 1987 of episodes of sati*, the taking of cyannide by the Tamil guerrillas in Sri* Lanka* to avoid capture, and the immediate sainthood of a Jaina who fasted to death are cases in point. Of the latter we read:

Yesterday marked the 50th day since 82-year old Badri Prasad stopped eating and since the Jainist ascetic became known to his devotees as a "living god," named Tapasvi Sri Badri Prasadji Maharaj.

Glistening with sweat, he is now too weak to speak to the hundreds of faithful who arrive daily to see him. "He is very happy," his son, 57-year- old Muni Ram Prasad, assures an outsider. "This is what he has always hoped for. He is becoming a saint."

He is the first Jainist priest since 1948 to carry out the ancient death ritual.

But Mr. Prasad's slow starvation has been labelled suicide in the Indian pressand likened to the Sept. 4 suttee of a young Hindu wife on her husband's funeral pyre that caused a national uproar. The Jainist practice is so rare, however, that baffled Hindus seem unwilling to do more than raise wary questions about legality. One prominent member of the faith,

High Court Justice N. L. Jain, has gone on record as saying that no laws are being broken. "It is in accordance with our religion," he flatly

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informed the Indian Express. "There is no pain involved, as the body is in tune with God."

(Bryan Johnson, The Globe and Mail (Toronto), Thursday, September 24, 1987, A8)

Indeed, it may prove difficult on account of strong religious beliefs to re- valorize the Jaina and Hindu understandings of self-willed death. It is striking in the case of Badri Prasad that some of his followers are themselves fasting until he dies. Furthermore, busloads of Jains have visited the living miracle, and a young acolyte priest has said "I want to die like that, also. ... I, too, hope to become a saint someday" (The Globe and Mail, Thursday, September 24, 1987, A8). Thus, it may be impossible

to ensure that it is only fasting to death or poison administered by a doctor in cases of official medical diagnosis of terminal illness that is practised once there is the patient's consent to die. In other words, by again offering a positive evaluation of fasting to death, people may once again look positively on other forms of religious, voluntary death as well, and the endorsement of one practise may lead inadvertently to the endorsement of others. The religious

sentiments thus reinvoked may override the new definition, which is limited to medical diagnosis of terminal illness. Just at the moment of the completion of this study of self-willed death the following appeared The Globe and Mail (Toronto: Dec. 17, 1987, p. A10):

The Indian Parliament passed a law yesterday imposing the death penalty for people who help carry out the ancient Hindu ritual of sutteea widow's suicide on her husband's funeral pyre.

The measure, prompted by the death in September of a young widow in western India, unanimously passed the Rajya Sabha (upper house). It had been approved by the more powerful Lok Sabha (lower house) on Tuesday.

The legislation mirrors a law already in force in the western desert state of Rajasthan and imposes a maximum sentence of death for abetting a successful suttee.

It also imposes prison sentences of as long as seven years for glorifying suttee, and empowers the Government to dismantle memorials and temples relating to it.

A woman who tries to commit suttee could be sentenced to six months in jail under the bill.

Many Indians were shocked by the death of a Rajasthani widow Roop Kanwar, 18, on her husband's flaming pyre Sept. 4 in Deorala village.

The Government charged Roop Kanwar's brother-in- law, who lit the pyre, with murder and filed lesser charges against 22 others, including the dead woman's father.

In a charge sheet filed in the Rajasthan state capital of Jaipur last month, the Government alleged that the woman was forced on to the pyre and pinned down with heavy firewood.

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Given the potential abuse if any form of self- willed death is allowed, a second approach to self-willed death in cases of terminal illness in modern India has also been deemed worthy of consideration. It is aware that re- introducing self-willed death so soon after having eliminated century-old problems associated with mors voluntaria religiosa may cause regression (especially since we know from the history of religions that in times of social, political or

economic stress, particularly when identity is threatened, there may be a regression to religious practises that formerly embraced the religious ideal, and there is an increase in suicide). And it realistically acknowledges that it may prove difficult to ensure medical diagnosis of terminal illness, especially when many do not have adequate access to medical treatment. It would maintain the legal definition of suicide as all- inclusive and a criminal

act. But, should cases of self-willed death in a context of terminal illness come to the attention of the court, the law would be interpreted generously. In sum, both the theoretical and the practical dimensions of the issue of self-willed death in a medical context must be addressed by contemporary Indian jurists and ethicists to advocate the best solution for this particular moment in history.

From a contemporary Western perspective, a study of the traditional Indian view of self-willed death is also worthy of reflection. On the one hand, it provides evidence that self-willed death may be integrated into a religious perspective and give meaning to death. On the other hand, those who advocate freedom to die would do well to remember that even self-willed death can be abused, given political, economic, social, and religious pressures.

If the freedom to die has no medical and legal limits, it may have potential to be exploited despite the good will involved; such is the danger with the Exit Literature. Unrestrained advocacy of the right to die or the right to an easy death as propounded, for example, by the Hemlock Society, should be reevaluated from the perspective of the Indian evidence. This demonstrates how important constraints are in order to avoid a

devaluation of life.

Throughout this study we have attempted to think about the topic of self-willed death positively. And yet our historical reconstruction, in the final analysis, causes us to pause and ponder once more the extremely difficult questions involved, not as a moral a priori but as a reevaluation a posteriori. It may be argued that the contemporary Western debate, prompted by developments in medical technology, should consider the historical and cross-cultural data on this

topic. It must be remembered that the West has had for centuries, thanks to Judaism and Christianity, a presupposition that individuals are to live out

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their natural life span. The West is discussing euthanasia with this presupposition still operant in its psyche. This does not mean that the West should take this presupposition for granted. For humane reasons, a strict legal definition of withdrawal of treatment is now viewed as acceptable. But the West should be wary of the freedom to will death in any circumstance. The ancient Hindus, too, had the presupposition of a long life. After the Vedic age this began to erode and, at times, was

abused on account of the growing popularity of religious, self- willed death and sociological factors that may have pressured the individual to will his/her own death.

It may be argued that Western societies today do not share the same religious perspective that contributed to such abuse (the attainment of heaven by death at a holy place, and so on). It may also be contended that there may be equally serious situations in the futurefrom population explosion to the difficulty of caring for a large population of the elderly, from individuals suffering from AIDS to eugenicsthat could easily stimulate abuse if societies fail to support the natural life span. Pessimism may be engendered in the modern age by other factors, such as living in

the face of a possible nuclear holocaust or even deep questions on the meaning of human life when death is seen as the absolute end. Any perspective that contributes to the possibility of pessimism at the core of the Weltanschauung must be reevaluated. It may be far easier to erode life affirmation than to build it anew out of a pervasive pessimism. The danger lies in that, what starts out as a justification for an exception, such as euthanasia in special circumstances, may pave the way to a more general acceptance of self-willed

death so that individuals take the matter into their own hands and bypass legal restrictions.

In conclusion, it may be said that there are good reasons for all cultures to be sensitive to the human dilemmas involved in the dying process. The issues involve not only the individual but also family and society. History, religion, medicine, and law must all inform today's reflection. It is hoped that the present study contributes to the ongoing discussion on a cross-

cultural basis. 22 Notes

1. This term was coined by Dr. Margaret Somerville, Director of the McGill Centre for Medicine, Ethics and Law, McGill University. I am grateful for a number of discussions with her that helped to retune my understanding of the current Western thinking on euthanasia.

2. The American Heritage Dictionary, 1969, 453.

3. See Paul Carrick's discussion in Medical Ethics in Antiquitty, 1985, 127-8.

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4. For details of the use of hemlock in ancient Greek society and the debate that ensued see Mair (1922) and Rose (1912). If euthanasia as the "good death" were associated with the drinking of hemlock and if controversy over the merits of euthanasia developedas seems to be the case on account of the split over this issue among the various Greek schoolsthen it had probably become a problem for Greek

society. This is no doubt because the practise had become common and not confined to situations of incurable disease and approaching death. The availability of hemlock may have encouraged suicide by individuals who faced any difficult problem or simply old age.

5. It may be argued that Jewish and Christian prohibitions against euthanasia should be viewed against a background of widespread suicide in Greek society (see Trowell 1973, 3-5). It is striking that the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament nowhere explicity condemn suicide, much less euthanasia, though the general Weltanschauung of both support the natural life span. Indeed, it was only after the Dispersion that suicide became more common among Jews and led to serious reflection on the issue (see Margoliouth

1922, 37). Given the lack of explicit prohibitions of suicide in the Bible, the contact of Jews with Greek society and consequently with the practise of euthanasia and suicide may have contributed to the emergence of the issue of suicide in Rabbinic writings and its strong condemnation.

Just as Josephus condemned suicide as an act of self- destruction and running away from God, the early Church Fathers also addressed the issue. They, too, no doubt had to confront the Greek practise. While a few of the Early Fathers condoned suicide in certain situations, others prohibited it. St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas spoke out against it. The three reasons provided by the latter in his Summa (II. ii. 64,5) became the locus classicus

of the Christian position: suicide is unnatural, an offence against the community, and a usurpation of God's power to give and take life. While martyrdom was understood as an exception, the general Christian view followed the position of Augustine and Aquinas in the later centuries. For subsequent theology acknowledged that God, the Creator, alone is the ordainer of life and death and that each one has a duty to preserve life. This view has been

characterized as the principle of the "sanctity of life," which has its focus on God not life per se.

6. Insistence on due process of decision making is an attempt to protect the patient, especially the patient who is no longer able to make an informed decision but whose terminal illness and suffering make euthanasia desirable.

7. The one Western country that is practising euthanasia as compassionate death in situations of terminal illness such as AIDS, is the Netherlands. The government is currently moving toward legalizing it under strict conditions.

8. Ayusmant *, a term of respect meaning "the long- lived one, sire," is used to address kings and monks. This, too, shows that long life is idealized, even though the life span may be short.

9. Examination of the royal consecration, the horse sacrifice, and the human sacrifice (see Keith 1925, 341ff.) reveals a number of Sagan's diagnostic features from gambling to harems, bardic poetry, riddles, ribald dialogue, sexual exhibitionism as well as suggestion of human sacrifice with reference to the purusamedha*, the Purusasukta* (Rg* Veda 10:90), and the rituals associated with Narayana* in the

Satapatha* Brahmana *.

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10. Various arguments have been made regarding the origin of mors voluntaria heroica in India. Griffith (1968, 236) argued, for example, that sati * is alluded to Rg* Veda X. 18.7-8 and Atharva Veda 18.3.1-3, but because the woman seems to lie down beside her dead husband only as a symbolic act and then arises, the praetise must have belonged to the distant Aryan past, hence the symbolic remnant

and the fact that the pratrise is called an ancient custom (purana)*) in Atharva Veda 18.3.1. Griffith offers examples from "old northern poetry" to substantiate his claim. As noted in Note 11 below, the Homeric poems in ancient Greece also furnish several examples of self-willed death.

11. Both the Indian and Greek evidence (see Mair 1922, 27 for details of Greek texts) demonstrate a transition from support of the natural life span to acceptance of self-willed death. While there is some evidence in the Homeric poems of heroic, self- willed death out of shame, sorrow, and threat of rape (the examples of Epikaste, Antikleia, Erigone, Evadne, and the daughters of Skedasos), self-willed death was not explicitly

linked to religious goals, for example, the attainment of heaven or liberation, as occurred in India. Rather, in the post- Homeric age, self- willed death was more an expression of the pessimism caused by the Peloponesian wars; with the discovery of hemlock, it became an easy means to commit suicide or to put an end to the suffering of extreme disease and old age. Despite the differences, however, it is striking that the

historical examples provided by both ancient Greece and India show how easily and quickly the concept of self-willed death, when given societal legitimation, can erode a basic life- affirmation. The historical data from these two centres of civilization suggests that once legitimated, the practise becomes popular, and with popularity it is hard to limit the phenomenon conceptually and prevent overlap with suicide.

12. The word atmahanah*, which appears in Isa* 3 has been generally understood by philosophers and modern translators as metaphorical in meaning: slayers of the True Self, or Soul, i.e., those who forget, neglect, or are ignorant of the Self. This metaphorical meaning is justified by recourse to Brhadaranyaka* 4.4.11 which does not use the word atmahanv but says that people who do not have knowledge or are not awakened go to the worlds covered with blind darkness (te lokah andhena tamasa*

vrtah*). Since this very phrase te lokah* andhena tamasa* vrtah* is found in Isa* 3 as the destination of the atmahanah*, the striking parallel must have given rise to the metaphorical interpretation of atmahanah . On the contrary, it can be plausibly argued though not convincingly established that Isa 3 intends a literal meaning, "slayer of oneself," and therefore is a prohibition of suicide or self- willed death. This interpretation is feasible

given the context of the previous two verses. One is to act renouncing greed and to live one hundred years. Such actions do not bind, since they are without desire and dedicated to God. Therefore one will be liberated, but those who kill themselves thinking it is action that binds will go to hell.

In later times, there was some confusion regarding the interpretation of this verse. (Madhva and Bhavabhuti* give a literal interpretation. Vedantadesika* offers both metaphorical and literal interpretations. Samkara*, Kane, and Radhakrishnan give just the metaphorical meaning.) The question whether suicide is directly prohibited by any Vedic passage is explored in greater detail by Sharma and Young, 1987. For those who wanted a proof text for the prohibition of suicide, Isa* 3 provided one. More importantly, it

refuted the theory that, since actions are binding and the body necessarily acts, one must eliminate the body

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for liberation. The message of the Gita act but without desire for the fruits of actiontakes up the idea of the first three verses of Isa Upanisad ; the Gita, however, stresses that the Self is never slain, 2.20.

13. See the stories of the nun, Siha*, and the monks, Sappadasa* and Vakkali (Mrs. Rhys Davids 1909, 1:54; T. W. Rhys Davids 1913, 2:214).

14. Recognition of differences based on caste and stage of life led to the formulation of different codes of behavior for different groups, hence a "multiple ethic."

15. Dhrtarastra* is reminded that he had excessive indulgence for his proud son Duryodhana and paid court to those of wicked behaviour, which helped to instigate the great war. Because of such irresponsibility, he must* experience the fruit of his own actions and should not give way to grief. Moreover, indulgence in grief never wins wealth nor what is desired, much less salvation. Neither scriptures nor the dead approve of such tears. One should not mourn dead warriors who have been slain

in war, for youth, beauty, life, possessions, health, and companionship are impermanent. All must die in any case. Heroic death in battle ensures that the warrior will immediately gain fame and heaven. Others cannot attain heaven so speedily by sacrifices, gifts, asceticism, or knowledge. Those ignorant people who suffer or meet with destruction as the consequence of their own actions will not attain the supreme goal.

In Mahabharata* 15.49.9-38 we are told that Dhrtarastra*, along with his wife, Gandhari*, and his sister-in-law, Kunti*, was performing austerities for six months during vanaprastha*, the stage of life when they had retreated to the forest. Gandhari* took only water and Kunti* had fasted for a month. One day they were sitting on the bank of the Ganga* in the forest when a fire broke out. Samjaya* who was with them warned them of the advancing fire, but they were so weakened and thin by their austerities (mandapranavicestitah*) that they decided not to escape arguing that "uniting with the fire we will attain the final state" (vayamatragnina* yukta* gamisyamah . param gatim) (Asramavasisikaparva* 15.45.23). Samjaya* says despondently

that this futile death by fire (vrthagnina*) will be not willed/ evil (anistah*). The reply is that, for we who have voluntarily renounced our home, this death is not not willed, i.e., it is willed or desired: (naisa* mrtyuranisto* no nihsrtanam* grhatsvayam*) (26). Furthermore, dying through fire, water, or wind by a hermit is praised (27). They tell Samjaya* that because he is not a hermit, he should escape the fire.

What is interesting about this account is that it is the antecedent to the concept of [self-]willed death (ista- mrtyu*) (which is the Sanskrit equivalent of mors voluntaria heroica or religiosa) and is viewed as legitimate for those who have become hermits or vanaprasthins *. The source of legitimation is because "it is praised," in other words, there is an appeal to custom rather than scripture.

16. In the Mahaprasthanika* Parva, the royal survivors of the great war decide to retire from the world to seek merit. Plans are made for an orderly succession of rule. Yudhisthira* and his brothers offer oblations of water to the elders, perform the sraddhas* of the deceased kin, feed the sages, bestow great gifts on the Brahmins and inform the citizens of their intention (samakalpa*). Clad in the bark of trees, they perform the preliminary rituals, which are to bless them in the accomplishment of their goal, and begin their journey with their faces to the east,

resolved to renounce the world with yogic discipline. They wander through

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various kingdoms. They head south, southwest, west, and finally north. Their circumambulation of the earth completed, they behold the Himalayas * and finally the grand peak of Mount Meru. The first to fall is the princess Yajnaseni*, then Sahadeva, Nakula, followed by Arjuna, Bhima*, and finally Yudhisthira*

17. Perhaps the sword figures prominently here because Buddhism appealed to warriors. In Buddhism, the sword symbolizes the idea of cutting out desire and ignorance, thereby achieving wisdom.

18. For a Western theory of supererogation see David Heyd's Supererogation: Its Status in Ethical Theory (1982) and for a critique see Joel Feinberg's Doing and Deserving: Essays in the Theory of Responsibility (1970, 22).

19. It is thought that the Chinese practise is based on the account in the Saddarmapundarika* of Bhaisajyaraja*, who set himself on fire, so dissatisfied was he with his previous worship.

20. Sallekhana*, for the laity, is legitimized in the Upasakadasah* (Ten Lectures on the Religious Profession of a Layman) wherein is described the death of Ananda*, a lay disciple of Mahavra . He undertakes sallekhana, is reborn as a celestial being in the first heaven, and will be reborn in human form one last time for liberation. According to the Sagaradharmamrta* (i. 12), the lay discipline is to be completed by sallekhana *.

21. "It is questionable if today the young comatose patient is the prototype for the discussion of issues of death and dying. A more probable crucial issue is that of the elderly: a reservoir of relatively defenseless persons, perceived, through bigoted 'ageism,' as unproductive and pejoratively dependent. In them, modernization has created a population stratum that, in a state of nature or conditions of scare economic, 'ought' to be dead." (Gruman

1978, 267).

22. Our discussion has focused only on the dying person who is competent to make decisions and to will death. It has been rightly recognized that the truly difficult problems arise when one is unable to express wishes or make an informed decision. Without going into the details of this aspect of the contemporary debate, let it suffice to point to the report of the Law Reform Commission of Canada: "The law should recognize that the

incapacity of a person to express his wishes is not sufficient a reason to oblige a physician to administer useless treatment for the purpose of prolonging his life; the law should recognize that in the case of an unconscious or incompetent patient, a physician incurs no criminal responsibility by terminating treatment which has become useless." (Law Reform Commission of Canada 1982, 66) Bibliography

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Sarasvati, Svami Satya, and Satyakam Vidyalankar, trans. Rgveda * Samhita* Volumes consulted: 2, 3, 4. Delhi: Shiksha Bharati Press, 1977.

Sastri*, A. Mahadeva*, trans. The Bhagavad Gita : with the commentary of Sri Sankaraicharya *. 6th Ed. Madras: V. Ramaswamy Sastrulu & Sons, 1972.

Sharma, Arvind. "The Religious Justification of War in Hinduism." ARC (Religion and Violence II). Montreal: Religious Studies, McGill University, Vol. 13, No. 2 (Spring 1986), pp. 7-20.

Sharma, Arvind, and Ajit Ray, Alaka Hejib and Katherine K. Young. Sati: Historical and Phenomenological Essays To be published by Motilal Banarsidass.

Sharma, Arvind, and Katherine K. Young. "Isa* 3." Paper delivered to the American Oriental Society, 1987.

Sharma, I. C. Ethical Philosophies of India. Edited and revised by Stanley M. Daugert. Lincoln: Johnsen Publishing Company, 1965.

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Thapar, Romila. "Death and the Hero." In Mortality and Immortality: the anthropology and archaeology of death. Eds. S. C. Humphreys and Helen King. London: Academic Press, 1981, pp. 293-315.

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Trowell, Hugh. The Unfinished Debate of Euthanasia. London: SCM Press, 1973.

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Page 130

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Page 131 About the Authors

HAROLD G. COWARD is Professor of Religious Studies and Director, The Calgary Institute for the Humanities, The University of Calgary. He received his Ph.D. from McMaster University and was a Research Fellow at Banaras Hindu University and Madras University in India. Publications include Bhartrhari * (1976), Sphota* Theory (1980), Studies in Indian Thought (1983), Jung and Eastern

Thought (1985), Pluralism: Challenge to World Religions (1985), Sacred Word and Sacred Text: Scripture in World Religions (1988), and The Philosophy of Grammar (1988). In 1988 he gave "the T. R. V. Murti Memorial Lectures" at Banaras Hindu University.

JULIUS J. LIPNER is Lecturer in the Comparative Study of Religion, Faculty of Divinity, Cambridge University and a Fellow of St. Edmund's College at Cambridge University. After his early university studies in India he obtained his Ph.D. in the History and Philosophy of Religion, King's College, London. He has lectured widely in England, India, Canada and the United States. Publications include The Face of Truth: A Study of Meaning and Metaphysics in the Vedantic Theology of Ramanuja (1986) and

articles on Indology and Inter-religious Understanding. He is currently completing a book on the Bengali Brahmin, Brahmabandhab Upadhyay (1861-1907). KATHERINE K. YOUNG is Associate Professor in the Faculty of Religious Studies, at McGill University, Montreal, Quebec, Canada. She received her M.A. from the University of Chicago and Ph.D. from McGill University in the History of Religions with specialization in Hinduism. She has peri-

Page 132 odically studied and done research in India and has published in several main areas; religion in South India, women in Hinduism, and ethics. The McGill Studies in the History of Religions is appearing under her general editorship.

Page 133 Index A

Abhidharmakosavyakhya *, 104

Abhinavagupta, 103

abisasta*, 93

abortion, 4;

definition of, 42;

Sanskrit for, 42;

as a last recourse, 49-50;

as thwarting karma, 57;

in relation to adultery, 66 n.51. See also bhrunhatya*

Acaranga*, 88

adhikrta, 97

Adiparva*, 93

Adipurana*, 98

Agamas*, 105

Agni, 19, 77;

cult of, 83

ahimsa*, 5,59, 60, 96;

in Jainism, 88, 92. See also non- violence

Aiyer, Paramanheri Sundaram Sivaswamy, 39 n. 100

Alberuni, 110

Allen, Michael, 36 n.48

Amarakosa*, 75

anapeksatvat*, 97

angas", 14, 25

anuloma, 50

Anusasana* parva, 100

Aparaka*, 94, 98

Aparantajnana*, 101

aparigraha, 19

apurva*, 97

Aranyakas*, 84

Arjuna, 26, 50, 93

artha, 21, 97, 98

asauca*, 10, 11, 14

ascetics, 16, 19, 25,84, 91, 101, 109, 118;

self- willed death by, 100. See also yogi

asceticism, 84, 85, 88, 90, 94,100

asramas*, 2,103

asuddha*, 10, 11

Asvins*, 77

Atharva Veda, 43, 78, 123 n. 10

atmahan*, 75;

-ah*, 123 n. 12. See also suicide

atmahatya*, 75,79, 92. See also suicide

atman*, 14, 52, 53, 86;

antar-, 53. See also purusa *; True Self

atmatusti*, 97

Atri, 94

avidya*, 21

ayusmant*, 122 n.8 B

Bacon, Francis, 72

Baird, Robert, 39 n. 106

balakarana*, 55

Basham, A.L., 12

Bhagavad- Gita*, 50, 59, 93, 100, 106, 124 n. 12;

commentary by Sankara*, 102. See also Mahabharata*

bhakti, 18, 101, 108, 111, 114;

marga, 104

Page 134

Bharata, 16-17

bhavana *,97

Bhismaparva*, 82

bhruna*, 42, 57;

ha*, 44;

-hatya*, 44,63 n. 18, 66 n.47. See also abortion

Blackburn, Stuart H., 74,86

bodhisattva, 6, 106, 112

bodily discharges, 3, 11, 12, 14, 22

body:

as loathsome, 15;

of women, 28;

in Yoga Sutras*, 21-22

Brahma*, 93,100

Brahman, 86, 101

Brahmanas*, 79-80, 81, 82

Brahmapurana*, 105-106

Brahmanical, 6, 10, 20, 21, 74, 75, 81, 95, 103

Brahmin, 4, 9, 13, 96, 99, 109, 110;

in ascetic puruit, 84, 91;

crime of killing a, 45, 47;

view of euthanasia, 108, 109, 114;

ism, 19;

jurists and lawgivers, 94-95, 98, 114;

in marriage with lower castes, 50;

and purity, 11, 20, 32;

and sacrifice, 79,85, 89;

and self- willed death, 84, 92, 102

Brhadranyaka* Upanisad*, 44, 123 n. 12

Briggs, George Weston, 38 n.72

Buddha, 6, 89-90, 91, 104

buddhi, 56

Buddhism, 5, 59,75, 76, 80, 85, 86;

in regard to suicide, 89-90, 91,92, 103-04, 106-07, 108, 112, 113 C

Candala*, 50

Caraka, 42, 45, 57, 66-67 n.52. See also Caraka- Samhita*

Caraka- Samhita*, 53, 54, 56,62 n. 13, 66-67 n.52, 68 n.61. See also Caraka

Carman, John B., 34 n.1

Carrick, Paul, 121 n.3

caste, 2, 30, 33, 46, 48, 60, 79, 81;

low, 3, 4, 12, 31,

procreation between members of different -s, 50

cetanadhatu*, 56

Chandogya* Upanisad*, 86,87

Charter of Rights, 3

chastity, 18, 19, 20

Chennakesavan, Sarasvati, 32

Christian, 6,9,72, 110, 112, 122 n.5

Christianity, 1, 120

citta vrittis, 22

codana*, 97

compassionate murder, 5, 72, 73, 77,118. See also euthanasia

conception, 54-56,67 n.57

consciousness, 22-24, 27, 52, 55-56, 67 n.57, 68 n.61

Constitution of India, 3, 4, 12, 31-34

Coward, Harold, 3,35 n.24 D

dakin*, 30

Das, Veena, 69 n.73

Dasgupta, Shashibhusan, 38 n.83

Deshpande, Ganesh Tryambak, 97

dharma, 2, 3, 5, 20, 44, 46, 48, 57, 58, 59,74, 76, 95-96, 97, 109

Dharmasastras* 2, 16, 29,42, 93, 103,105

Dharmasutra*, 16,42

Dhrtarastra*, 93, 95, 124 n.15

doctor, 5,73, 118, 119

Dubois, Abbé J.A., 110

Durga* Puja*, 18

Dutt, Romesh C., 35 n.28

dvandva, 26

dvija, 93, 99-100 E

Eliade, Mircea, 34 n.17

embryo, 4,60;

conception of, 54-56, 59;

killing of, 20, 43-44, 45, 46, 47;

miscarriage of, 42, 62 n.5, 62 n.7;

moral status of, 60;

as symbol of life, 58. See also abortion; foetus; miscarriage

enlightenment, 83, 86, 90, 99, 102, 103-104. See also liberation; moksa*, mukti; nibbana *; release; salvation

Epics, 3, 11, 94, 98, 105

euthanasia, 5-7, 114-15, 117-18;

abuse of, 109;

archaic meaning of, 73;

for Brahmin authors, 94;

for the Buddha, 90;

as dharmic, 95;

five observations regarding, 76;

history of, in Western culture, 71-73;

Jewish and Christian prohibitions against, 122 n.5. See also compassionate murder F

fast to death, 6,7, 84,89, 94, 115, 116, 118-19;

four contexts for, 107. See also sallekhana*

Page 135

foetus, 4,51, 57, 60;

conception of, 54-56;

delivery of, described in medical text, 49-50. See also abortion; embryo; miscarriage

Freeman, James M., 35 n.38 G

Gampert, W., 63 n. 18,65 n.32

Gandhari *, 47-48, 124 n.15

Gandhi, M.K., 59

garbha, 42;

duhkha*, 55

garbhasrava*, 43, 62 n.7. See also miscarriage; sramsana*

Garbha Upanisad*, 54

Gautama (Hindu lawgiver), 42, 108

Gautamadharmasutra* (GauDS), 42, 45

Godhika, 103-04

Gopalan, S., 39 n.100

Gorakhnath* 3, 12, 27-28, 30. See also Kanphata* Yogis; Nath*

Goraksasataka*, 27,28

Griffith, Ralph T.H., 123 n.10

Gruman, Gerald J., 71, 72, 125 n.21

gunas*, 3, 12, 18, 22-23, 24, 25-27, 31,32

guru, 30, 47, 48, 107 H

Harappa* culture, 3, 11, 12-13

Hara, Minoru, 67 n.58, 68 n.61

Harijan, 33. See also untouchables

Hathayogapradipika*, 27

hatya*, 42, 49

heaven, 5, 6, 82-83, 84, 93-94, 100, 101, 103, 106, 111

Heesterman, J.C., 80

Hejib, Alaka, 18, 36 n.26

hell, 51, 95

heroic, voluntary death, 5, 6, 74,82, 83, 90, 124 n.15;

technical terms for, 75. See also mors voluntaria heroica; serf- willed death; suicide

human being, 51-52, 53, 54, 56,60

human person, 51;

Hindu view of, 52-53, 54-55, 56,60

human sacrifice. See sacrifice I

Indian Penal Code, 7,76, 113

Indra, 44, 66 n.52

intercourse, 20, 29,54, 67 n.56

Isa* Upanisad*, 87,123 n. 12

Isitva*, 102

istamrtyu*, 75, 124 n.15. See also self- willed death

Igvara*, 25

Isvara* Pratyabhijna* Vivrti* Vimarsini*, 103

Iswarananda*, Swami, 31

1 Tsing, 107 J

Jablopanisad*, 102

Jaimini, 2

Jaini, Padmanabh S., 112

Jaina/ Jainism, 5, 6,7, 80, 85, 86, 90;

regarding ahimsa*, 59, 88, 92;

view of body, 14, 15;

practice of sallekharna*, 76-77, 88, 91, 92, 98, 107, 112-13, 115, 118-19

jani*, 13

jaya*, 13

jiva, 4, 54. See also soul

jivanmukta* , 98,101, 103;

determining time of death, 101-02

jnana*, 2,28

Jnanadeva*, 103

Johnson, Bryan, 119

Judaism, 1,120 K

kaivalya, 88

Kalivarjyas, 109-11

kaima*, 16

Kane, Pandurang Vaman, 61 n.4, 82,84, 92, 94, 98,108, 109

Kanphata* Yogis, 3, 12, 27. See also Gorakhnath ; Nath

kanya*, 10

karma, 4, 14, 17, 87, 95;

bad, 18-19, 27, 86, 98;

in Jainism, 88;

for Patañjali, 23-24, 26, 36-37 n.61, 101;

and rebirth, 53, 57-58, 60;

for Sankhara*, 102

Katha* Upanisad*, 14

Kathavatthu*, 103

Kausitaki* Upanisad*, 44,86

Kaviraj, Gopinath, 36 n.59

Keith, Arthur Berriedale, 81, 122 n.9

king, 80-81, 82, 83, 85, 92, 114

kingdoms, 80-82, 85, 91

Krsna*, 47, 50-51

Krygier, Jocelyn, 36 n.44

Ksatriya*, 6, 21,75, 84,90;

custom of withdrawing to forest, 98, 103;

duty

Page 136

Ksatriya * (cont.)

of, 96;

killing of a, 45;

marriage between a, and person of lower caste, 50;

mileu, 82, 92;

in power struggle with Brahmin caste, 85;

and suicide, 108, 110. See also warriors

ksetrajna*, 53

kundalini*, 28

Kurmapurana*, 105 L

Larsen, Gerald, 14

Law Book of Visnu . See Visnudharmasutra (ViDS)

Law Book of Apastamba* (Apastamba- dharmasutra *: ApDS), 45

law books, 4. See also Laws of Manu; Manusmrti*

Laws of Manu, 3, 11, 17. See also Manu; Manusmrti*

liberation, 85, 87-88, 103;

for the Buddha, 89;

for Manu, 101. See also enlightenment; moksa *; mukti; release; salvation

Lingapurana*, 106

Lipner, Julius, 4

Lipski, Alexander, 30 M

Ma*, Anandamayi*, 30

Madan, T.N., 34 n.3

Mahabharata* (Mbh.), 4, 16, 42, 81, 109, 124 n. 15;

concerning abortion, 46-48;

concerning the embryo, 58;

Mahaprasthanika* Parva of the, 98;

concerning pregnant women, 45;

concerning self-willed death, 75, 93, 99. See also Bhagavad- Gita*

Mahanarayana* Upanisad*, 44

mahaprasthana*, 75, 93,94, 98, 101, 109

Mahaprasthanika* Parva, 124 n. 16

maha- rasa *. See semen

Mayayana* Buddhism, 6,106

Mair, A.W., 122 n.4

Maitri* Upanisad*, 14-15

manas, 56

mantra namokar, 107

Manu, 46, 93, 101, 102. See also Laws of Manu; Manusmrti*

Manusmrti* (MnS), 43,59,62 n.7,63 n.23. See also Laws of Manu; Manu

Maquire, Daniel, 72

Mara*, 104

marana*, 75

Margoliouth, G., 122 n.5

Marici*, 43

Matsyapurana*, 106

Mayanamati*, 30

meditation on death, 90,91

menopause, 10, 18,30

menstrual blood, 20, 30, 54,67 n.56;

ambiguous character of, 29;

defined as rajas, 28

menstruation, 10, 12, 14, 17, 20, 30;

of widows, 19

Meyer, Johann Jakob, 35 n.29

Mimamsa*, 2, 95,97

miscarriage, 42, 43, 49, 60, 62 n.5, 62 n.7. See also garbhasrava ; sramsana

miscegenation, 50-51

Misra*, Vacaspati, 22, 26

Mitaksara* (Mit.), 43, 46, 49,65 n.32, 111

moksa*, 4, 9, 11, 16, 21, 33, 85, 86, 103, 106, 111. See also enlightenment; liberation; mukti; release; salvation

mors voluntaria heroica, 74, 79, 85, 98, 124 n. 15;

leading to attainment of heaven or deification, 83;

response of Brahmanism, Buddhism and Jainism to, 91;

of a king, 92;

and sati*, 110, 123 n.10. See also heroic, voluntary death; self- willed death

mots voluntaria religiosa, 74,79, 92, 99, 113-15, 118, 120;

Brahmin reluctance to legitimize, 108;

as classified by Gautama, 108;

as related to euthanasia, 95;

for Jainism, 88,91;

in relation to the Kalivarjyas, 109-10;

and the rise of the kingdoms, 83, 85;

sacred places and, 104-05;

as separate from suicide, 98. See also religious, self- willed death; self- willed death

mrta*, 75

mukti, 28. See also enlightenment; liberation; moksa *; release; salvation

Murti, T.R.V., 35 n.35 N

nadis*, 27-28, 38 n.74

Nagasena*, 104

Page 137

narakagarta, 17

nastikya *, 15

niskama*, 19

Nath*, 28-30. See also Gorakhnath ; Kanphata Yogis

nibbana*, 90. See also enlightenment; liberation; moksa *; mukti; release; salvation

Nilakantha*, 109

nirupakrama, 101, 102

nirvicarasamadhi*, 23

niyamas, 2

niyoga, 47

non- violence, 84, 90. See also ahimsa* O

O'Flaherty, Wendy Doniger, 29

ojas, 56 P

Padmapurana*, 105

Pali* Canon, 90, 104

Pandey, R.C., 103

papa*, 95

Parajika*, 89

Parasara*, 84,93

patanam*, 66 n.47

Patañjali, 2, 3, 21-27, 30, 32, 101-02. See also yoga; Yoga Sutras*

patiyoga, 111

patni", 13

Paulkasa, 50

Poussin, L. De La Vallée, 89, 112

prakamya*, 102

prakrti*, 3, 10, 23,52

prana*, 27, 28;

ayama*, 14

prarabdha*, 101

pratiloma, 50-51

Prayaga*, 106, 109

prayopavesa*, 98;

-na, 75, 113, 115

pregnancy, 14, 45, 52, 56, 60, 61

punamrtyu*, 85

Puranas*, 16, 42, 48,68 n.61, 105

purification, 6,11;

water used for, 13;

through menstruation, 20;

through tapas, 19;

by yogi, 25-27

purity, 3, 4, 11;

in relation to chastity, 14;

of daughters, 18. See also suddha*

purusa*, 14;

medha, 81, 98, 122 n.9;

as True Self, 23, 24, 25, 27;

vadha, 49. See also atman *; True Self

purva* mimamsa*, 2 Q

Questions of King Milinda, The, 104 R

Radhakrishnan, S, 2

rajas, 3, 12, 15, 18, 22, 24, 25, 26;

defined as menstrual fluid, 28;

in women, 31

Raju, P.T., 2

Rama*, 16-17

Ramakrishna Order, 31

Ramayana*, 16, 17, 30,98

Rammohun, Raja, 112

Ratna- karandaka- sravakacara*, 77

Ravana*, 17

release, 9, 14, 23. See also enlightenment; liberation; moksa *; mukti; salvation

religious, self- willed death, 5, 6,74, 81, 88;

in Buddhism, 89-90, 106, 108, 112, 119. See also mots voluntaria religiosa; self-willed death; suicide

Rg* Samhita*, 43. See also Rg* Veda

Rg* Veda, 13,68 n.61, 77-79, 82, 86, 122 n.9, 123 n. 10. See also Rg* Samhita*

Rhys Davids, Mrs., 124 n. 13

Rose, H.J., 122 n.4

Roy, Rammohun, 7 n.1

rta*, 13, 79 S

Saehau, Edward C., 110

sacrifice, 79, 85, 86, 93, 97;

animal, 80;

horse, 81, 82;

human, 80-82, 83,84, 85, 92;

self-, 84, 98;

self-, of bodhisattvas, 106

sadacara*, 97

sadhana*, 30

sadharana- dharma*, 96

Sagan, Eli, 80-81, 82,93

Sagaradharmamrta*, 107, 125 n.20

sakti*, 21, 29

sallekhana*, 6,7,75, 91, 98, 109, 125 n.20;

and ahimsa*, 92;

in contemporary Indian society, 76-77, 113, 115, 118-19;

four contexts for, in Jaina lawbooks, 107;

significance of, for Jainas, 88-89. See also fast to death

salvation, 86, 100, 101, 105. See also enlightenment; liberation; moksa *; mukti; nibbana *; release

Page 138

Salyaparva *,82

samadhi*, 103;

marana*, 75,76

Sama* Veda, 13

samkalpa*, 96-99, 100, 107, 117

samsara*, 17,26, 85, 86, 88

samskara* 23-24, 37 n.61

samyaksamkalpaja*, 97

samyama*, 101, 102

Samyutta- Nikaya*, 90

Sankara*, 2, 102

Sankhya* school, 13, 14, 22,27;

Yoga, 55

Santideva*, 112

Santiparva*, 82

Sarirasthana*, 53

sarvamedha, 82, 98

Sastri, Shakuntala Rao, 34 n. 10

Satapatha* BrAhmana*, 43, 58,63 n. 16, 81, 122 n.9

sati*, 1, 6, 10, 11,36 n.42, 111-12, 118;

legal aspects of 114;

and purity, 18-19;

by wives of warriors, 110-11;

in Vedas, 19, 123 n. 10. See also suttee

sattva, 3, 10, 12, 15, 18, 22-23, 25

sauca*, 10, 14, 25

Sayana*, 62 n. 12

self- willed death: and ahimsa*, 88, 92;

for ascetics, 99-100, 103;

for Brahmin jurists/ thinkers, 95,98, 102, 108, 109;

in Buddhism, 89-90, 103-104, 108;

of enlightened ones, 98, 99, 102;

by fire, 83;

introduction to, 74-76, for Manu, 101;

in modern Indian society, 115-20;

in Vedic period, 77-85;

for warriors, 83-84, 87,88, 91, 94. See also fast to death; heroic, voluntary death; mors voluntaria heroica; mors voluntaria religiosa; religious, self- willed death; sallekhana *; suicide

semen, 3, 4, 16, 22, 29, 54,67 n.56

Sen, Sanat Kumar, 31

Shah, Shri Chimanlal Chakubhai, 113

Sharma, Arvind, 96, 112

siddhi, 102

Siksasamuccaya*, 112

Sita*, 16-17, 20,30

Siva*, 55

Smith, Donald Eugene, 33

smrti*, 16, 18, 33, 37 n.61, 42, 105, 109, 110;

in relation to abortion, 44-48;

suicide in, texts in comparison to Buddhism and Jainism, 92-108

sopakrama, 101, 102

Soul, 4, 54, 55, 67 n.57, 107

sraddha*, 5, 58, 60,74, 108

sramsana*, 43, 62 n.5. See also garbhasrava *; miscarriage

sruti, 16, 33, 42, 97, 109;

in relation to abortion, 42-43

Sthala- puranas*, 105, 106

Stutchbury, Elizabeth Leigh, 35 n.40

suddha*, 10, 11. See also purity

Suddhitattva*, 109

Sudras*, 14, 21, 50, 109

suicide, 5, 6, 71,72, 79,87, 118, 120;

in Buddhism, 89-90, 104;

concern of Indian religions to prohibit, 91;

in Jainism, 88;

in Mahabharata*, 93. See also atmahan *; atmahatya *; selfwilled death

Susruta*, 42

Susruta* Samhita*, 49, 55-56, 62 n.10

suttee, 45, 48, 119. See also sati*

svarga. See heaven

Svetasvatara* Upanisad*, 87 T

Taittiriya* Sahita*, 13,81

tamas, 3, 12, 15, 18, 22, 25, 26, 87;

in regard to women, 20, 31

Tantras, 16

Tantric, 3,27, 29,30

tapas, 19, 26, 77, 94

terminal illness, 5,72, 73, 115, 120

Thomas Aquinas, Saint, 122 n.5

tirtha*, 104-05, 110, 118

Tirthaprakasa*, 109

Tristhalisetu*, 109

Trowell, Hugh, 71,72, 122 n.5

True Self, 23, 24, 86, 123 n. 12. See also atman ; pursa

Tukol, Justice T.K., 76-77, 113 U

unborn. See embryo; foetus; garbha

Untouchability (Offenses) Act of 1955, 33

untouchables, 20, 32. See also Harijan

Upadhaya, Bhagawat Saran, 34 n. 11