Rashmun on the materialist roots of Upanishadic grand-standing on spirituality

 Here  again is Rashmun, in my opinion a very promising Indologist, and an erudite rationalist skeptic, with typical gusto, taking an analytical  swipe at the pretensions and motives of the legendary Upanishadic ideologue and theoretician, Yajnavalkya.

In the process, what you will notice below is an excellent rendition of an analysis of history and philosophy  that uses the method of 'progression of the relations of production in shaping culture of a society'. This is much like the dialectical method of historical analysis pioneered by Karl Marx, and reproduced very ably in the context of Indian ancient history by the great historian, DD Kosambi.

Without wasting any further time in effusive introduction, here is the opinion piece, with nothing more than my highlighting of some high points  of Rashmun's analysis

  Yajnavalkya and the Material Requirement of an Upanishadic Idealist

The secret wisdom of the Upanishads is imagined to have the most wonderful power of its own. This power is so 'great' that it promises not merely the worldly things like cattle, offspring and fame; it can even assure something which nothing else can.

In a famous story of the Upanisad (Brihad Aranyaka Upanishad iv.5.3-4), Yajnavalkya--about to retire--wants to have his property settled among his two wives Katyayani and Maitreyi:

Then said Maitreyi, 'If now, Sir, the whole earth filled with wealth be mine, would i be immortal thereby?'
'No', said Yajnavalkya, 'as the life of the rich, even so would your life be. Of immortality, however, there is no hope through wealth.
Then said Maitreyi, 'What should I do with that through which I may not be immortal? What you know, Sir, that indeed tell me.'

This delights Yajnavalkya, and he initiates his wife into the secret knowledge he possesses.

The importance of this story for illustrating the new Upanishadic attitude is rightly emphasized. A considerable number of Upanishadic passages assert that the secret wisdom of the age promises immortality. But let us return to Yajnavalkya's story.

The word used for immortal in the story is 'amrta'. The early Rig Vedic poets are aware of this word no doubt. But they use it rhetorically, usually to describe euphoria induced by the intoxicating drink, soma; but the idea of 'secret wisdom' leading to immortality never occurs to them, nor the idea of 'property settlement' in the Upanishadic sense. 

They do not have property as Yajnavalkya does and hence have no opportunity to cultivate the cult of secret wisdom. 

Yajnavalkya's property, whatever be its source is obviously relieving him of the problem of maintaining himself by his own manual labour. How can Yajnavalkya, without being thus relieved, devote himself to the cult of pure consciousness? The basic requirement for this is leisure enough for the purpose.

The contempt for the verdict of practice, on which the idealist outlook so vitally depends throughout its Indian career, can be possible for the philosopher only in so far as he is relieved of the basic responsibility of practical life--in short, in so far as he is ensured of the leisured existence.

The material conditions in which the early Vedic poets live do not permit them the the luxury of a leisured existence. With their control over nature comparatively rudimentary, they cannot but be obsessed with the problem of physical survival--a problem which is solved in ancient society mainly by collective functioning.

The devotion of a selected few of the community to the cultivation of pure speculation is not yet objectively possible, for the community does not produce enough surplus to meet their material needs.

In contrast in Upanishadic India (around the eighth and seventh century BC), things are different. There is considerable progress in the control over nature, thanks mainly to the introduction of iron implements on some scale and the improved technique of agriculture and handicrafts, which are now added to cattle-raising.

Human labor acquires the ability to produce much more than is necessary for its bare maintenance. At the same time, the products of labor do not go to the laborers themselves; or in the words of the early Vedic poets, they are not 'shared out' amongst the tribesmen. In fact, this act of 'sharing out' is so important to the early Vedic poets that they in their mythological imagination it is raised to the status of veritable deities. They call these deities Bhaga and Amsa, literally 'the share'.

In Upanishadic India, however, the surplus produced by the direct producers is usurped by the kings and nobles.

An early Indian law-giver wants to rationalize this accomplished fact. Describing the ideal mode of living of the king or noble, Gautam (Gautam Dharamasastra x.29-30) says:

But to the collection of these taxes he shall always pay particular attention. He shall live on the surplus.

The accumulation of this surplus makes the kings and nobles enormously wealthy in terms of the age. Depending on this surplus to maintain themselves on a grand scale, they have all the leisure of life to pursue and patronize the cult of pure consciousness. The kings surround themselves by their flatterers (rajanya bandhu) and are often described in the Upanishads as taking very keen interest in philosophical discourses. But this does not mean they have the monopoly of the 'secret wisdom'. Outside the circle of the nobility, there are persons with exceptional gifts claiming profounder wisdom endowed with more imposing power.

Such a one was the 'great' Yajnavalkya.

Attracted by the magical potency of Yajnavalkya's wisdom--and above all perhaps by the rumour that this wisdom even ensures immortality or escape from death--one of the prosperous kings of the age, Janaka of Videha, is only too eager to part with a substantial portion of his wealth to the philosopher as payment for being initiated into the secret wisdom. Without being a plunderer of the surplus of the direct producers, Yajnavalkya thus becomes entitled to a part thereof.

Nothing is more attractive for the kings than the prospect of overcoming death or attaining immortality, a fascination prevalent amongst the wealthy rich even today, some of whom have paid vast sums of money to have their bodies preserved in the hope that they may be brought back to life in the future after science has advanced far enough to be able to do so. This is basically also the same temptation that leads the Pharaohs of Egypt to waste colossal amount of wealth to build pyramids. Compared to the Pharaohs, the kings of the petty Upanishadic states have far less wealth. But that is not the point. The point is that for these kings also the temptation of overcoming death is irresistible. They pay for it according to their means.

All this does not mean that for Yajnavalkya and his co-philosophers the promise of immortality ensured by their secret wisdom is necessarily a sales talk. It may as well be a part of their make-belief. But whether make-belief or not, it does pay. And because it pays, it can relieve the philosopher of the problem of maintaining himself by his own labor. It even enables Yajnavalkya to amass considerable property before his retirement.

For Yajnavalkya, it is quite logical to tell his wife that this property does not ensure immortality; that immortality is ensured only by his secret wisdom. Why else should his patron agree to pay him so well for being initiated into the secret wisdom? However, what Yajnavalkya does not add is that though this property does not ensure immortality, it can and does ensure leisure for cultivating the cult of pure wisdom. Without the solid support of the material wealth--the grand gift of the patron--the alternative for him is working for a living. But with the life of manual labor, Yajnavalkya's philosophy of pure contemplation does not fit. From this point of view, therefore, Yajnavalkya's worldly assets are not so unconnected with his world denying philosophy as he would like his wife to believe.

Thus for understanding Yajnavalkya and his philosophy it is necessary to take note of his property and understand its sources. Where does it come from? The Upanisads are not at all vague about this. Here is a typical description of the general setting of his philosophical discourse (Brihad Aranyaka Upanisad iv.1.1):

Janaka, king of Videha, was seated. Yajnavalkya came up. To him the king said, 'Yajnavalkya, what brings you here? Is it because you want cattle or hair-splitting discussions?'
'Indeed both, your majesty', he said.

It should be noted here that in Upanishadic India, material wealth was largely measured by the number of cattle one possessed. Thus this great idealist philosopher, with his intense contempt for the material world shows no hesitation to admit that he is not merely interested in philosophy; he is also interested in the payment for it.

Metaphysically the cattle--like everything else in the world--are unreal no doubt. But these are not to be ignored for without these the meta-physician is not assured of his leisured existence which enables him to spin the world denying philosophy of Upanishads and Vedanta.