In mastering the forces of matter and the arrangement of genes, has humanity accomplished the termination of its own role? And in this case has it only to disappear, or to direct itself toward a new Golden Age? This is a question that future events alone will answer. In the meantime, in the hope of survival, or in order to prepare ourselves to disappear and pass the torch to the supermen who will succeed us, what must our behavior be?
In response to this question, Tradition provides an ethic, a minimal code of behavior, which, if it cannot save us, can at least retard the day of reckoning.
The door that leads to the way of wisdom is opening slightly. Will men have the discernment and courage to enter in and thus forestall the final day? In any case, few will be chosen.
Appendix I
Language: Instrument for the Transmission of Knowledge
The Nature of Language
THE SIMPLEST FORM OF VIBRATION THAT OUR SENSES can perceive is the vibration of air, which, within certain limits, we sense as a sound. We can use sound vibration as a departure point and means of comparison for an understanding of the other, more complex vibratory states—whether they concern the structures of matter or of life, or the phenomena of perception and thought. We have seen that, because of his double nature, man has two roles to play: one concerns the continuation and development of the species; the other concerns the transmission and evolution of knowledge.
There are parallels between the transmission of life and the transmission of knowledge, between the Being of Flesh and the Being of Knowledge. The elements that form the genetic code are, like those which form language, similar and limited in number. They are called the Aksharä(s) (constants).
As far as language is concerned, the Aksharä(s) are the various elements of articulation that the vocal cords can emit and the ear can recognize. There are fifty-four of them. In addition, there are the fifty-four intervals of the musical language that can be distinguished by the ear and that have psychological effects. An analysis of musical intervals will allow the establishment of numerical factors that act as a kind of mathematical key to the diagrams and graphs at the base of the structures of life; it will also give us an insight into the mechanisms of perception, sensation and thought.
The Manifestation of Thought
THE basic instrument for the formulation of knowledge is language, whose limits establish the possibilities for analysis and the transmission of thought.
What is language? How can the variations in articulated sounds be used to define, express, and transmit ideas? Indian grammarians and semanticists tried to define the nature, possibilities, and limits of language, as well as its relationships with the structures of the world and the mechanisms of thought. Thought exists outside language; the various languages are merely collections of signs (sound or otherwise) that are used to delineate thought and transmit its approximate outlines. It is therefore essential that the vocabulary and the structures of language not be confused with ideas. Nevertheless, according to the Hindu grammarians, there must be some relation among thought, perception, and language; without it, language could not act as a vehicle for the others. In this area, as in the others, they have therefore sought out archetypes that are common to the mechanisms of perception and thought, and to the structures of language, music, and the other modes of communication.
An idea is an inner vision that we try to formulate with the help of those symbolic elements which are the words or gestures we use. The crudeness of such a formulation may be greater or lesser, depending on the richness of our vocabulary, but it is always a mere approximation. An idea is not in itself connected to language. We seek words to express it, and often hesitate between different alternatives. An idea first appears in an indivisible form called Sphota. It can be compared to a landscape lit up by a flash of lightning. Some notions, some experiences and sensations, often the deepest and the most violent, remain inexpressible. Mystics cannot describe their experiences. We ourselves cannot communicate the nuances of pleasure or sorrow with any precision. Language can therefore be a barrier. It is, according to the theories of Yogä, necessary to remove the barrier of language and to "reduce the mind's activity to silence" in order to achieve a perception of the suprasensory world.
The idea is born in the substratum of consciousness called Parâ (the Beyond), where it appears as a kind of vision (Pashyantî). Dreams form part of this Pashyantî. In order to transform an idea into an instrument of action or communication, we attempt to define and formulate it mentally, using the symbols of language. This stage is known as Madhyamâ (intermediary). It is clear that such a formulation is approximate, for we have at our disposal only a limited number of tokens or words with which to form its outlines. At length we exteriorize it in a sound form called Vaikharî (exteriorized). These last two stages are particularly developed in mankind, although they vary according to the intellectual capabilities and the vocabulary of individuals. They are extremely rudimentary in animals.
Through the practice of Yogä we perceive the four stages in the manifestation of thought as being localized within four of the main centers of the subtle body, which is the inverse of the physical body. Parâ is situated at the base of the vertebral column; Pashyanti is close to the navel; Madhyamâ is in the area of the heart; and Vaikharî is in the throat. As always with Yogä, brain centers are involved which can only be localized and controlled through the parts of the body, the corresponding nervous centers, which they command. The theory of the Creative Word is based on an analogy between the processes involved in the transformation of thought into word and sound vibration, and the processes of divine thought, which becomes the substance of the world in the shape of energy vibrations. This analogy enables the Yogi to start from the word and work his way backward, thereby reaching, without going outside himself, the birthplace of the manifested, the limits of the "beyond" (Parâ), the "Principle of the Word" (Shabdä Brahman). It is through this experience that we can have an idea of the process by which the universe is exteriorized by Divine Being.
At the beginning, like a wind that is blowing, I cry out the worlds in space," says the Divine Being of the Rig Vedä. Divisible being emanates from the Being which is indivisible Existence-Consciousness-Joy; From Sat (existence) springs forth Energy, which manifests itself in the form of an elementary vibration that can be compared to a primordial sound (nâdä). It is from this vibration that the boundary point (hindu) issues, separating what is manifest from what has not been manifested. [Sharadâtilakä 1.7]
An echo of this concept is to be found in all traditions: "In principium erat Verbum ante omnia facta sunt. .. ."
According to the Sâmkhyä, the universe has developed from elementary formulae that are mathematical in nature, or at least able to be expressed in mathematical or geometric terms (in this case called Yanträ[s]) and which are common to all aspects of creation. There is no difference of nature between the formulae at the base of the structures of the atoms of matter, the movement of the stars, the principles of life, the mechanisms of perception and thought, which are, all of them, parallel and interdependent manifestations of energy, resulting from common patterns. Language, by means of which we exteriorize and materialize thought and describe the apparent world as it is perceived by our senses, must therefore present to us characteristics analogous to those of the process by which the universe develops. A study of the bases of language, its limits and constituents, should provide us with an idea of the nature of the world; by delving back to the sources of language, we should gain an understanding of the process by which thought is transformed into speech and should be able to uncover something of the way in which the Creative Principle that is the divine "Word" is manifested in Creation. The same result can be achieved starting from visual elements, such as the language of gestures, or biochemical elements, which are the formulae of matter and life, since all aspects of the world are based on a limited number of patterns and formulae.
A distinction must be made in all linguist
ic theories between words and their meanings. In the aspect of Mahat, Universal Consciousness, Shivä is identified with the meaning of words. The word itself, the instrument of sound with which we express meaning, is a form of energy and is therefore part of the realm of Pakriti (matter), regarded as feminine. "Shiva is the meaning; the word is his wife" (Lingä Purânä 3.11.47).
A study of the formation of words and the roots of language reveals that they always start from abstract notions and move toward the concrete; they start from the general and progress toward the particular. In order to understand a word, its root must be studied. The processes involved in the formation of language appear analogous to the processes of creation.
Provision is made for the birth, possibilities, and limits of language in the very structures of the human animal. The five places of articulation that allow the formulation of the means of communication which we call language are no more accidental than the fact that humans possess five senses, five fingers, and five forms of perception, and that five apparent states of matter exist for us. Man only invents that which he is predisposed—but not predestined—to invent. The organ of language precedes the manifestation of language, and not the other way around. It is thus implicitly part of the plan from the outset.
The Mîmânsâ(s) and the Tanträ(s) study the ritual and magical formulae, that is, the use of language as a means of communication between different states of being. The Vyâkaranä, moreover, studies the structures, the limits, and the contents of language. Its application to Sanskrit is but one example among many. The study of the symbolic meaning of the phonemes, whose use is to be found in Manträ(s), the formulae used to evoke the various aspects of the supranatural world, belong not to the Sanskrit language, but to a general theory of the symbolism of sounds.
The error of wanting to reduce a study of the symbolic bases of language to the elements of a particular language considered to be sacred has often turned the approach to this problem off course, as has sometimes been the case with regard to the Greek, Hebrew, or Arabic alphabets, or for Sanskrit itself.
Texts
THREE are many texts about Creation, conceived as the manifestation of the Principle of the Word (the Shabdä Brahman) and also about the transmission by sound of concepts and the semantic contents of the musical or articulated sound. These texts also study the manifestation of thought through the intermediary of the word, and the parallels that this manifestation can provide with the birth of the world viewed as an apparent materialization of the thought of its creator. Among the most important surviving works on the subject are the Vedic Pratishâkhyä(s), the Kâshikâ, and the Rudrä Damaru of Nandikeshvarä (prior to Pânini), Pânini's Ashtâdhyayi (fourth century B.C.) and its major Commentary, Patañjali's Mahâbhâsyä (second century B.C.), and Kalâpa's Vyâkaranä (first century). To these must be added the ancient Shaiva grammars, of which the one by Râvanä is legendary, and to which Bhartrihari refers in his Vâkyapadîyä (seventh century A. D.). This matter is also treated in several Upanishad(s) and treatises on Yogä.
For this study on the nature of language, I have relied on a long article by Swâmî Karpâtrî, published in the Hindi language journal Siddhantä with the title "Shabdä aur arthä" (Words and Their Meaning).
In mythology the origins of the theory of language is attributed to Shanmukhä, the son of Shivä, and the pre-Aryan Dionysos.
The invocations with which the Vâkyapadiyä (Bhartrihari's great treatise on the nature of language) begins appeal to the goddess of the mountains (Pârvatî), to the eternal Shivä (Sadâshivä), to Shivä as the god of the South (Dakshinamûrti); they refer to the Tanträ(s), the gamä(s), and to the ancient Shaiva grammar by Râvanä. There is no mention of the Vedä or the Vedic gods. Bhartrihari also makes reference to the Jaïnä tradition, the other great current of protohistoric thought in India.
We have already seen with respect to the Tanmâträ(s) that a form of communication exists which corresponds to each state of matter or element. Thus there is a language of smell (the element of earth), a language of taste (the element of water), and a language of touch (the element of air). (The tactile language is extremely rudimentary in mankind. A shaking of hands, the pressure of feet under the table, not to mention the caresses of love, are all part of the language of touch.) There is also a language of sight (the element of fire), which is used by man in gesture, mime, and ideograms.
The language of sound, corresponding to ether, is divided into a musical language and an articulated language. The musical language is based on the numerical relationships of frequencies and on the rhythmic division of time. Spoken language is formed from articulated sounds, to which certain tonal elements of music are added. The various forms of language can combine with each other. Gesture, mime, intonation, and rhythm work in combination with the word and allow the expression of what words alone cannot transmit. All living beings have a language; yet it would seem that man is the only one in possession of an elaborate language, even though some animals have a significant number of "words" or "signs." The Shatapathä Brâhmanä (4.1.3.17) says: "Only one quarter of language is articulated and used by men. Of the remainder, which is inarticulate, one quarter is used by mammals, one quarter by the birds, and one quarter by reptiles."
These languages use various means of transmission, which are not necessarily perceived by us. It is sometimes a question of ultrasonic transmission or along the lines of radio or radar, permitting direct intuitive communication (the reading of thoughts, etc.). Gesture, mime, and the emission of certain waves play an important part in the language of animals, insects, and even plants, although with plants, for which time has a different value, the slowness of movement makes changes imperceptible to us. In the same way, bird language, which is too fast for us, appears to us like a recording played at the wrong speed. Insects communicate over very long distances by means of extremely delicate odors.
Man finds that some sounds have a direct relationship with some emotions, but on the whole we tend to believe that the use of phonemes to represent ideas is conventional. This raises a fundamental question. For the Indian grammarians, sounds must have originally a meaning and a logic of their own. This is what allows them to be the image of material or abstract realities. It was the grammarians' belief that language was originally entirely monosyllabic and tonal. By this theory, Chinese is closer to the primitive languages than the Semitic, Aryan, or Dravidian languages. A monosyllabic language functions by the juxtaposition of substantive elements (nâmä), elements of form (rupä), and elements of action (kriyâ), and therefore lends itself to a parallel representation by means of graphic symbols, ideograms or by gestures (mudrä).
The phonemes, which originally have a precise meaning (indeed a natural meaning), form the material from which the basic roots of language are formed; these roots will combine to constitute words whose meaning is a combination of the constituent parts. It would seem that in no language can any new roots ever be invented. These could, in any case, be nothing but a transposition or displacement of the original meaning, since there can be no new elements of articulation. In order to define ideas, all languages therefore use the fifty-four possible articulated sounds. This is very limited material, which means that words can only be approximations allowing a vague outline of the thought they express.
The organ of speech is constituted as a Yanträ, a symbolic diagram. The palatal vault (like the celestial vault) forms a hemisphere with five points of articulation allowing the emission of five groups of consonants, five main vowels, two mixed vowels, and two secondary vowels, assimilated to the planets.
Likewise in the musical scale, there are five main notes, two secondary ones, and two alternative notes, which are not arbitrary but correspond to fundamental numerical relationships between the sound vibrations that we can find at the base of all musical systems. Our perception of colors has analogous characteristics. We cannot in any case invent new vowels, new places of articulation, or new fundamental colors. The po
ssibilities of our vocal organ and the powers of discrimination of our perception are severely limited, coordinated, and preestablished according to criteria to be found in all aspects of creation.
The Maheshvarä Sûträ
THE material of language (that is, the set of articulated sounds that will permit the definition and transmission of thought) is classified in a mysterious formula that is considered to be the source and summation of all language. This formula is known as the Maheshvarä Sûträ and is symbolically described as issuing from the Damaru, the god Shivä's little drum, whose rhythm accompanies the dance by which he gives birth to a world which "is nothing but movement" (jagat). The Maheshvarä Sûträ attempts to establish the relative significance of the phonemes, the basic sound-tokens that form the material of language, and their relationship with the fundamental laws that rule the material, subtle, and transcendent worlds.
The analysis provided here of the Maheshvarä Sûträ is based upon the two short treatises attributed to Nandikeshvarä and the commentaries on them. Nandikeshvarä attributes a basic meaning to the various linguistic elements according to the placement and movements of the vocal organs that produce the different sounds of the spoken language. The commentators explain how the sounds produced by the various efforts of the vocal organs can be used to materialize concepts, and how such inflections, which can seem to be minimal even on the microcosmic scale, can, when multiplied to the scale of the universal being, reflect prodigious energies.
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