by Keren Arbel
In the Upaniṣads, on the contrary, prāṇa was conceived as the ultimate object of meditation since it was perceived as the closest physical manifestation of the unchanging principle in each person – the embodiment of Brahman, namely, the ātman. However, the Upaniṣads are not clear as to how one meditates (upāsva) on prāṇa as ‘prajñātma’ (Kauṣ III.2). Kenneth Zysk has pointed out various practices associated with prāṇa in the Upaniṣads, such as fasting, washing the mouth with water (the mouth is where prāṇa is),72 the offering of oblations to each of the five bodily winds, eating the remaining offering, washing the mouth again and meditating on ātman with a mantra (e.g., Maitri Upaniṣad 6.9).73 He further explains that one has to practice rhythmic breathing for attaining divine prāṇa. 74
Thus, as far as I can observe, the instructions in the early Upaniṣads of how one uses prāṇa to attain divine prāṇa are quite vague. It is also not clear whether prāṇa in the early Upaniṣads is (1) the actual breath; (2) the sensation of breath in a specific organ (the heart or the nose, for example); or (3) an abstract notion of breath as the ‘life principle’. This is contrary to specific instructions given by the Buddha in the Anāpānasati Sutta and the Satipaṭṭhāna Sutta. In these texts, the practitioner has to observe the actual process of breathing in and out; that is, as the process of breathing is manifest in each moment.
It would seem to me that the early Upaniṣads share similar intentions and vision with the various ‘forest traditions’, namely, the search for liberation from rebirth and the attainment of immortality. However, the overall impression is that, rather than prescribing a practical path to liberation, the Upaniṣadic sages were more engaged in speculating about metaphysical theories; that is, the nature of the self, the realization of Brahman and the state of immortality. What I am suggesting is that there is very little evidence that early Upaniṣads were the product of practitioners who were part of the ascetic-meditative traditions.
The apparent lack of a detailed and precise contemplative praxis in the Upaniṣads suggests that those practices that do occur in these texts might have been the product of philosophical speculation or borrowed from non-Vedic contemplative traditions. Bronkhorst has come up with an interesting hypothesis concerning this issue. He suggests that the early Upaniṣads bear witness to two religious currents: (1) the Vedic emphasis on knowledge and the goal of reaching Brahma, and (2) the non-Vedic idea of liberation from rebirth. The details of Bronkhorst’s research are available in his book.75 Here, it will suffice to review one of his examples for supporting this hypothesis. He quotes a passage from the Chāndogya Upaniṣad:
[T]hose who know this (i.e., the identification of various objects with aspects of the sacrificial fire), and those who worship in the forest with the thought ‘tapas is faith’… will reach Brahma. This is the path leading to the gods.76
According to Bronkhorst, this Chāndogya passage ‘borrows the non-Vedic aim of liberation from rebirth, puts it in a Vedic garb, and offers it as reward for typically Vedic type of knowledge’ (i.e., reaching Brahma).77 Bronkhorst concludes his chapter on the early Upaniṣads by saying that the real interest of the early Upaniṣads
[I]s the non-Vedic search for the true nature of the self. The ideal of the non-Vedic ascetic who, through cessation of activity, aspired to become freed from the effect of activity did not find much resonance in these Upaniṣads, though, and is not obviously present in them.78
If one accepts this line of reasoning, it can be surmised that while the Buddha was aware of the various speculative ideas the Brahmins had been theorizing,79 his contemplative techniques could not have been borrowed from the Upaniṣadic type of spiritual quest. If this is so, it can also be postulated that references to yogic practices in later Upaniṣads might very well have expressed Buddhist (and Jain) influences, and not vice versa.
Relatedly, Crangle has also pointed out that in later Upaniṣads, explicit and detailed references to yoga techniques suddenly appear.80 This is particularly evident in the second Upaniṣadic group (Katha, Iśa, Śvetāsvatara, Mundaka and Mahānārāyana Upaniṣads). The greatest number of terms derived from the root dhyai (twenty) occurs in the Śvetāsvatara and Maitrī Upaniṣads.81 However, both the Śvetāsvatara and Maitrī Upaniṣads are dated after the rise of Buddhism82 and seem to demonstrate the influence of Buddhism on later Upaniṣadic thought.
For instance, in Śvet I.11, the kleśas and the destruction of suffering are connected to the practice of dhyāna, a terminology that is distinctively Buddhist in nature.83 The Maitrī Upaniṣad also seems to show a clear Buddhist influence, which exhibits a dialogue with the Buddhist tradition. This indicates that by the time the Maitrī Upaniṣad was composed, the Buddhist tradition was already a well-known religious tradition in India. Maitrī 7.8, for example, seems to refer to the Buddhists by accusing those who advocate a doctrine that ‘denies the self by false comparisons and proof, [and] does not discern between wisdom and knowledge’.84
Given that, it appears obvious that Buddhist doctrine and praxis were already well known to the authors of this Upaniṣad, since they explicitly refer to a notion that is absent from the oldest group and hints to Buddhist doctrine. The use of mithyā dṛṣṭānta to refer to the denial of the doctrine of self (nairātmyavāda)85 seems to allude to the Buddhist use of micchā diṭṭhi as a description of non-Buddhist views. Furthermore, the reference to ‘thieves unworthy for heaven’ who deny the doctrine of self and do not discern between wisdom and knowledge (na janāti veda-vidyāntarantu yat) points to the intention of the Maitrī Upaniṣad to give superiority to the term veda over the term vidyā (Pāli vijjā) that was central in Buddhist thought. It looks as though the authors of the Maitrī Upaniṣad see themselves as part of the Brahmanic-Vedic tradition while excoriating heterodox traditions that do not see the Veda as authoritative.86 Two such traditions can be Buddhism or Jainism. Therefore, I tend to agree with Crangle’s assertion:
The evidence suggests that the ideas and fundamental techniques of yoga have been appropriated by the Upaniṣads from heterodox sources. Buddhism is the most probable source. This conclusion further undermines the theory of a purely linear development. The sudden appearance of explicit, detailed reference to yoga in the post-Buddhist Upaniṣads lends support to the theory of a synthesis of indigenous, yogic practices with the Aryan methods and ideas.87
II The fourfold jhāna model in the Jain tradition
In the previous sections I discussed the likelihood that Brahmanism was the source for the fourfold jhāna model. This hypothesis seems quite doubtful at this point. Having said that, I would like to make few reflections regarding the possible influence of Jainism on Buddhist meditation theory. One very interesting fact is that the practice of the jhānas is never associated in the Nikāyas with either Nigaṇṭha Nātaputta88 or with the Ājīvikas.89 SN IV.298–302, for example, depicts both Nigaṇṭha Nātaputta and the naked ascetic Kassapa as two persons who do not believe the jhānas are even possible, never mind having experienced them. Furthermore, as a complete series of meditative states, the practice of the jhānas appears in the Nikāyas only as a teaching given by the Buddha and his disciples. This is contrary to depictions of ascetic and meditative practices that were practiced by the unawakened Bodhisatta before his awakening and proclaimed by him to be unbeneficial to the spiritual quest.90 Yet, the Buddha never made such declarations with regard to the four jhānas. 91
Interestingly, Jain texts provide little information on the details of dhyāna practice.92 According to Bronkhorst, there are only a few occurrences of jhāṇa and its derivatives in the Āyāraṃga Sutta/Ācārāṅga Sūtra, one of the oldest Jain texts.93 In addition, all these occurrences are found, according to Bronkhorst, in the ninth or eighth chapter; therefore, they may be a later addition.94 A more elaborate description of the term dhyāna occurs in the Tattvārtha Sūtra, an early Jain Sanskrit text from the second century CE. This text was accepted as authoritative by all Jain sects.95 It s
ummarizes ‘in aphoristic form the basics of Jaina epistemology, metaphysics, cosmography and practice’.96
In this sūtra, dhyāna is divided into four types: mournful,97 wrathful,98 analytic and pure dhyāna. 99 The first two are one-pointed concentrations which may occur spontaneously by focusing upon objects unsuitable for spiritual progress.100 Therefore, they are mediations that are connected to unwholesome states.101 Only the last two kinds of dhyāna – analytic dhyāna (dhammam) and pure dhyāna (śukla) – lead to liberation.102 According to the Tattvārtha Sūtra, analytic dhyāna is the investigation of the scriptural commandments, the nature of physical and mental suffering, the effects of karma and the shape of the universe and its content.103 Note that this type of dhyāna seems quite similar both to the Buddha’s instruction to learn his teaching and reflect upon them104 and to the Buddhist practice of contemplating experience in terms of the three characteristics. There is no resemblance to the description of the fourfold jhāna model in the Nikāyas. The Jain version seems to refer to broad contemplative praxis and not to specific states, such as the Nikāyic fourfold jhāna model.
The highest dhyāna, according to the Tattvārtha Sūtra, is ‘pure dhyāna’ (śukla dhyāna) and it is divided into four varieties: (1) multiple contemplation, (2) unitary contemplation, (3) subtle infallible physical activity and (4) the irreversible, motionless state of the soul.105 In the first two kinds, the activities of body, speech and mind still operate; the third kind is attained by the omniscient person a moment before final liberation, when all gross and subtle activities of speech and mind and body stop altogether. According to Jain commentary, there is no fall from this state. When the third dhyāna variety is over, the omniscient person continues to the last variety – the irreversible, motionless state of the soul. This last attainment is where the soul becomes still as a rock and the omniscient person immediately attains disembodied liberation.106
The similarity between the Tattvārtha Sūtra account of ‘pure dhyāna’ (and the other types of the lower dhyāna s) and the description of the jhānas in the Pāli Nikāyas is not evident. The only apparent resemblance between the two is the reference to vitarka and vicāra107 in the first two varieties of ‘pure dhyāna’. The Tattvārtha Sūtra describes a process in which the meditator contemplates the multiplicity of objects (this is when both vitarka and vicāra operate) and then contemplates the oneness with no change of object (at this stage vicāra is absent). It is noteworthy that although these two terms appear in the first jhāna, the Tattvārtha Sūtra account resembles more closely the Buddhist practice of observation (anupassana) and investigation of phenomena (dhamma-vicaya). Lastly, according to the Tattvārtha Sūtra and its commentaries, the omniscient person who attains the third variety of śukla dhyāna does not return to active life, since the attainment of this meditation ends with disembodied liberation (ayoga kevalī) of the fourth variety.
In contrast to this depiction, other attainments occur when a person is still alive and still allow such a realized person to return to normal activity. These are the attainment of the jhānas and even the attainment of cessation (nirodha-samapatti), which might be compared to the attainment of complete stillness. Bronkhorst has offered an interesting observation regarding the last two stages of ‘pure dhyāna’. He points out that these two stages are described in physical terms rather than mental terms.108 This is contrary to the fourth jhāna (and the ‘attainment of cessation’), which is characterized in terms of mental qualities – the purification of sati and upekkhā (and the cessation of perception and feeling in the case of the attainment of cessation).
What I would like to suggest in light of the preceding is that the identification of the jhānas with Jain dhyānas is problematic; the suggestion that the Jains are the originators of the fourfold model in the Nikāyas is even more problematic. In other words, when we consider the preceding, the identification of the jhānas with Jain dhyānas has no firm basis; moreover, all Jain accounts of dhyāna practice are later than the Pāli Nikāyas (and never associated in the Pāli suttas with the type of spiritual praxis presented by the Jains).
It is interesting to mention in this regard Jaini’s observation that the correlation between the śukla dhyāna and the precise mechanism whereby the passions are negated (the summum Bonum of the Jain spiritual path) is not fully explained by Jain texts.109 In light of this, it is possible that Jain thinkers, who had contact with Buddhist ideas from the origination of Buddhism, were influenced by these ideas and practices and thereby incorporated a terminology that was central to early Buddhist texts for polemical purposes. The word ‘influence’ in this regard should be understood as referring to the idea that central and innovative ideas (and terms) of a rival religious system might stimulate various reactions by its opponents. One reaction can be to create a philosophical negation of the opponent’s idea. This reaction is exemplified by what the Buddha did with regard to the idea of purification by water.110 Another reaction is to consciously ignore it. This tactic can cause rival religious systems to remodel their opponent’s idea to fit their own understanding of the spiritual path, even at the expense of generating some ambiguities. A good example of the latter in Buddhist thought is the use of the term āsava. The term ā sava is a central Jain term that occurs frequently in the Nikāyas111 even though it seems incompatible with Buddhist understanding of the nature of the impure mind. The term āsava derives from the verb ā + srū and means ‘flowing in’ or ‘flowing out’. In Jain philosophy it is used to describe the karmic matter that ‘flows in’ when one performs actions; as a result, it sticks to the soul and prevents the soul to be pure and liberated. Somaratne has pointed out that it is quite probable that the arahant’s depiction as āsava’s free, represents the Jain notion of a liberated person. This is contrary to the term saṃyojana, which is purely a Buddhist categorization and is compatible with Buddhist understanding of bondage and liberation.
The preceding example shows how remodelling the opponent’s idea to fit another religious system can be seen as a tactic for responding to an adversary’s challenges. This can be done by adopting central terms from other religious traditions, moulding them into a different conceptual system and thereby giving them a new meaning.112 I would suggest that the term dhyāna, which was central in early Buddhist awakening scheme, was adopted and re-moulded by the Jains and later on by other yogic traditions.
III Some historical considerations
I would like to address one further historical consideration to support the theory that the fourfold jhāna model is a Buddhist innovation. It is most likely that Buddhism wielded great influence in pre-Common Era India. This would account for the term jhāna, a central term in early Buddhist texts, having become prominent in other yogic systems. I will propose that the lack of early evidence for the existence of the fourfold jhāna model in non-Buddhist traditions that suddenly became central in later yogic texts (in various adaptations) is due to the influence of Buddhist meditation theory. As every inquiry has its limits, I shall confine mine to some reflections and provisional suggestions.
After the rapid growth of Buddhism in early India, and up to the revival of Hinduism during the Gupta dynasty (fourth to sixth centuries CE) and the decline of Buddhism in India (from the twelfth century CE), it is reasonable to assume that Buddhism became dominant enough to affect other religious traditions. When Aśoka became the propagator of Buddhism (269–232 BCE), it seems likely that the Buddhist community already had reached a considerable size and was influential. Indeed, it would be hard to imagine why an emperor would have chosen as his personal religious belief an unknown and un-influential religious tradition, to propagate to his people. It has been suggested by Romila Thapar that Aśoka’s choice of propagating the Dhamma was the result of looking for unifying principles that could be accepted by any religious sect.113 Although Aśoka did not intend to force Buddhism as his state religion, it seems dubious to ignore the political significance of choosing publicly one religious tradition over
others, including the use of distinct Buddhist ideas and formulations in public monuments.114 Note Romila Thapar’s observation that at the time of Aśoka:
Buddhism in the context of society as it was then, was not just another religion. It was the result of a widespread movement towards change which affected many aspects of life from personal beliefs to social ideas. Any statesman with an understanding of the period would have had to come to terms with such an important new development.115
Thapar also asserts three reasons that Buddhism was an appealing religious movement in early India: (1) Buddhists demanded relaxation of the social rigidity, a position that had a tremendous appeal among lower sections of the caste system; (2) the conception of the ‘middle way’ that ‘propagated a code of ethics which took into consideration the practical necessities of daily life’ made it accessible to those who could not become ascetics; and (3) there was an element of democracy in the organization of Buddhist monasticism.116 Thus, Aśoka’s choice to become a Buddhist,117 apart from emulating his father and grandfather who chose non-Brahamanic traditions as their personal beliefs,118 seems to exemplify his political shrewdness. If Thapar is correct, and Buddhism was already a well-known and influential tradition at the time of his accession, Aśoka must have been quite astute in his political observation, using the power of the new religious movement for his own agendas.
It is most likely that Aśoka acted as patron of the Buddhist tradition. Royal patronage meant substantial constitutional support, which must have helped the Buddhist tradition to become even more widespread. The Aśokan Schism Edict from Allahabad, Sañci and Sarnath exemplifies this active participation of Aśoka with issues concerning the Buddhist saṅgha. This edict was the subject of considerable debate, a debate whether it describes Aśoka’s active part against a schism in the saṅgha (that, according to the Theravāda sources, led to the origination of the Theravada School) or, as suggested by Bechert and reinforced recently by Herman Tieken, represents his concern with divisions within local individual saṅghas.119 In either case, it shows that the emperor had an interest in regulating the Buddhist saṅgha. Herman Tieken has argued in his article that Aśoka’s concern with the possibility of a split of local saṅghas into two separate communities shows that he feared the saṅgha’s split would interfere with the smooth flow of trade.120 This conclusion supports the assumption that by the time of Aśoka’s reign, the Buddhist communities around India (monastics and lay) had been important and influential enough to cause the emperor concern regarding splits within local Buddhist communities. If the Buddhist tradition was not widespread and influential, it would be hard to imagine why Aśoka was actively engaged with the saṅgha’s internal affairs.121