While other civilizations throughout history have either put an emphasis on emaciation from wealth and splendour ravenously, or perished themselves in their endless quest for profits, however, it is the Hindu civilization which stands outstandingly with their practical conceptions, like

सुखस्य मूलं धर्म:। धर्मस्य मूलं अर्थ:॥
मर्यादां स्थापयेदाचार्याणामत्यन्वा यिनमापाय स्थानेभ्यो वारयेयुः।
~Cāṇakyasūtra

At first glance, both the stock market, or even investing in general, may seem equivalent to gambling. There are justified reasons for concluding this statement, though they are the incorrect ones as we shall examine later on. 

Those reasons for the said presumption being the common endeavour for a return on their initial money (or bet), blindfold speculation and an insatiable thirst for making the next profitable breakthrough, as many ordinary people have come to perform with ever more widening access to financial markets. But, this doesn’t make financial markets necessarily a “gamble”. Kumārilla Bhaṭṭa says, प्रयोजनमनुद्दिश्य न मन्दोऽपि प्रवर्तते, that not even an imbecile engages in a task without an appropriate intention or purpose. This is also the case in both the stock market and gambling. Before coming to the stock market, we must gander a glimpse of betting and its prospects with congruence to the Vaidika authority, which includes the Vedas and Dharmaśāstras among other texts.

In addition to the infallible Vedas1, the Smṛti of Manu is held in the highest regards by the great ācāryas such as Kumārilla Bhaṭṭa2, Ādi Shankarāchārya3, Bhagvadpāda Rāmānujācārya4, etc. The Manusmṛti declares:

द्यूतमेतत् पुरा कल्पे दृष्टं वैरकरं महत् ।
तस्माद् द्यूतं न सेवेत हास्यार्थमपि बुद्धिमान् ॥
~ Manu 9.227

This means that since many former cycles (Kalpas), gambling has been seen as a great menace, therefore wise men shouldn’t resort to gambling even in jocular recourse.

In the Dyutavibhāga of Vivādaratnākara of Chaṇḍeśvara, Kātyāyana and Brihaspati are quoted5. They say that wagering shouldn’t be consumed by cultured folks as it incites anger and greed and those lascivious men who engage in such endeavour destroy their wealth. Arthaśāstra [3.20] and Kātyāyana [as mentioned above], among other śāstras, do have provisions for tractability for gambling or betting, where, if regulated by law and with forfeiture of portions (in the won amount) to the revenue officials, gambling is legalized albeit condemned as seen as a vice.

Yājñavalkya (2.202) states in his smṛti, द्युतमेकमुखं कार्यं, that gambling is a craft for idiots. Śrī Kṛṣṇa says in Gītā [10.36] - द्यूतं छलयतामस्मि in which Govinda lists himself not only being virtues but also vices, as Ādi Shankara comments - अक्षदेवनादिलक्षणं छल्यता. In his Gudārtha Dīpīkā6, Madhusūdana Sarasvati comments that “the fraudulent and agents of those who cheat each other for the means of depriving others of all their wealth without producing something of value on their own individual agency.”.

Therefore gambling is not a legitimate recognised source of wealth. It is strictly prohibited, as also explicated in Medhātithi Bhāṣya on Manusmṛti [4.226] where various kinds of wealth are categorised in which value earned obtained through gambling is declared to be “black”, listed in similar rank with fraud, hypocrisy, robbery, stealing, bribery, and causing pain. In his commentary on Manu [10.115], Medhātithi quotes Pāraśara of clearly stating that the wealth acquired through gambling is ‘impure’. Hindus have an extraordinary mindfulness for the piety of objects which they indulge in, whether it is the dietary habits, people they interact with, mundane habits, and in this case, money. For a Hindu believes that one becomes what one consumes of, as seen in the distinctive case for annadoṣa, henceforth such strict prescriptions are laid down in the scriptures. Wealth too, if earned unrighteously can grant momentary pleasures, but would never be the cause of beatitude if it is departed from Dharma, for such wealth would lead not to fulfilling contentment, but convolution of one’s subtle mind and body, and thus eventual ruin. No action is without an inadvertent or deliberate consequence.

Now coming to the subject matter of the Stock Market, it is defined in a simplified form as a market place where various publicly-listed companies or corporations offer their stakes (parts) in exchange of money offered by the individual agencies (can be a single person as well) through various means of various financial instruments such as stocks, bonds, arbitrage, Future & Options, etc., so that the accumulated money can be utilised for furthering corporates’ operations therefore further elevating their value, raising the stock value, and thus profit those who have invested in them. Things can also deteriorate for the worse if the corporation fails to validate and sustain its perceived value in the market, which would result in plummeting of its stock/share value.

सप्त वित्तागमा धर्म्या दायो लाभः क्रयो जयः ।
प्रयोगः कर्मयोगश्च सत्प्रतिग्रह एव च ॥
~Manusmriti 10.115

The verse states that there are seven valid means for earning wealth, those being: inheritance, acquisition, purchase, conquest, investment, industry, and receiving of gifts.

Here, quite discernibly, “purchase” and “Investment” are a verified means of income in accordance with Dharma. Same śloka is quoted in Parāśaramādhavīyama7, which says that investments or payments made for gains (in future) to others who in turn avail those funds, is a form of income. In his Chaturavargachintāmaṇi, Paṇdit Hemādri quotes Gautama Dharmasūtra to corroborate his assertion that monetary transactions made for interests and dividends in future is a source of income, even for the śūdras, accentuating the duty of vaiśyas that though it is the vaiśyas varṇa who engages in enterprises and ventures, but Shūdras can also partake by earning dividend or appraisal in their investments, in addition to their services. The 4th adhyāya of Vivādapada of the Nārada Smriti also allows advancements of money to an individual for multiple fold monetary returns.

To take a theological view as well, in Gītā [3.12], it is said by Śrī Kṛṣṇa:

इष्टान्भोगान्हि वो देवा दास्यन्ते यज्ञभाविता: ।
तैर्दत्तानप्रदायैभ्यो यो भुङ्क्ते स्तेन एव स: ॥

That Devas have, so to speak, shares or loans for the beings they provide material value (wealth, longevity, etc.) and thus we are obliged to perform Yajña to give them their preferred returns for even more acquisitions in our ventures. For it is through these sacrificial acts, that the Devas are worshiped, and requite wealth, in forms of rain et cetera, for human beings to prosper. 

In Gītā [4.25], Yajña is deemed as a transaction, Ācārya Shankara comments8 that the yajñas through which devas are propitiated are deva-yajña, and so on, based upon the entity which is propitiated through oblations. 

Yāskācārya has assigned the meaning of Yajña with “to/for self” in Nirūkta. In the first adhyāya of second kaṇḍikā, the etymology of yajña is given. For being an activity of beseechment (yāchanā), the name “yajña” is coined. As the officiator requests Devas for something in return, as no act is performed which does not fulfill oneself.

आत्मनस्तु कामाय देवाः प्रिया भवन्ति।
~Bṛhdāraṇyakopaniṣad (2.4.5). 

इष्टान्भोगान्हि वो देवा दास्यन्ते यज्ञभाविता: ।
तैर्दत्तानप्रदायैभ्यो यो भुङ्क्ते स्तेन एव स: ॥
~Gītā (3.12)

Meaning, that the celestial gods, being satisfied by the performance of sacrifice, will grant you all the desired necessities of life. But those who enjoy what is given to them, without making offerings in return, are verily thieves. Similarly in Bṛhdāraṇyakopaniṣad (3.8), a mutual relation is given, where despite being more than capable, Devas rely upon humans for “havi” or libations, and humans perform sacrificial acts for the gods for rewards in return, or assuage.  

Apart from the śāstriya paksha as presented above, one can discern the caving contrasts when it comes to dissimilarities between the stock market and gambling. Honest work vs dishonorable reliance on mere luck or misfortune of the other. In the stock market or such pertaining field, an individual scrupulously analyses financial statements, assets’ performance, recent trends, past fluctuations with differing perturbances in the market, government policies, global shifts and events et cetera, it’s a whole complicated calculus in itself. Meanwhile, gambling relies on a mere reprobate chance. In the endeavour of investment (stock market) an individual has some level of authority in regards to his decisions and is not completely in mercy to factors outside his dominion, and with one’s assorted prudence can either retrograde his state of affairs, or can thrive even in times of financial slaughter.

Wagering or betting doesn’t bring such faculty and one becomes slave to their serendipities. Another factor besides one’s preparedness is ‘time factor’ which can be explained as such, a person shrewd in his trades can foreshadow a market’s trends and can take decisions accordingly, thereby dexterous persons can be in the game as long as they are willing to be owing to one’s talent and capabilities. This factor is missing in gambling where the chances of losing increases exponentially with more bets and the frequency of occurrence of gambling, thus a gambler is limited to only his luck and few random chances. Cosmic mathematics can grant him to win some money he did nothing for - except taking the risk.

Unlike gambling or in cryptocurrency, investors in stock of a company have something to claim upon, it is not arbitrary and based on some beautiful fraction of value, even in the form of a certain proportion of a company - as offered in an IPO (Initial Public Offering), which is a legal claim, it can be discerned that it has a credible claim on something, unlike gambling which is conflated it with it. 

Markets also have an unequivocal recurring tendency to balance itself. Balance in terms of as markets are composed of rational people, who obviously have the incentive to engage in it for producing value conspicuous in their bank accounts, so once there is profit earned many are penchant to withdraw from it, thus reducing the demand and therefore on account of direct proportional relationship, the price. As the price value is diminished, many other offerers, who are interested in the company’s growth, and hence also want to ride the green boat, invest their capital in the company’s pool, thus again augmenting the price dynamics.

The intrinsic capability of the free market to counterpoise itself, makes it different from the gambling landscape, which functions on completely different dynamics. There is relevance as a factor service in the form of capital, and factor payments in the form of dividends involved. The public has to utilise its data of the track records of the company, future directions, government policies, public mood, leadership structure, or in short the overall sophistication of the said company, and on the other side, the company for its allure has to offer relevance, and an explicit juncture for the observing eyes.

It is correct that market is driven by instincts by animalistic, base spirit of the mass-psyche, but it would be a statement of incompetence, as market is driven by a number of subjective, and objective matters. Investors are rational beings as well who are driven by their analysis of the market, which are based upon the intrinsic value of the invested commodities.

Being invested in the stock market is also rewarding for people with low time preference, as made clear previously. For example, if a person had invested in one of the top S&P 500 companies 20 years prior, it would have a near absolute guarantee of a positive return.

One needs to understand that the blind arbitration of perceived chance as in the case of gambling etc., where there is nothing real behind the screens, whereas in contrast funds of the stock market actually have actual sophisticated economic structures which have real implications upon the world and its inhabitants, though it would not be completely unfounded to view the stock market (and financial world in general) as a mad rave behind endless graphs and sheets of numbers fluctuating spontaneously at overwhelmingly rapid instances, but they do have real graspable impact upon the world, where people have many things to lose apart from just money.

Stock market and investment inherently are oriented towards a “Lower time-preference” whereas gambling is “high time-preference”, one merits patience and long term cogitations , whilst the other merits frivolous profligations. “Good” money is characterized by its ability to produce even more wealth, in this context Sāyaṇa’s and Skandasvāmin’s Bhāṣyas can be quoted on Ṝgveda [1.1.3] for Agni deva exhorting him for manifolding increment in wealth , — as this mantra is attributed to Yajña associated for gaining wealth —

Āsvalāyana Grihyasūtra [7.8] is also quoted by Sāyaṇācārya9, to support the purport. 

At the end of the day, both endeavours are based on an innate desire to earn money, though the deciding factor which differentiates them are the methods of achievement. मन एव मनुष्याणां कारणं बंध मोक्षयोः, as said in the Amṛtabindopaniṣad, the intention behind an action is the cornerstone of its outcome. 

Note: This article addresses the foundational principles and mechanics of the stock market as an economic institution and does not endorse, condone, or make any representation regarding the unethical, manipulative, or fraudulent practices that may occur within it.

This article was originally published in our magazine Sadghoṣa.

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At its core, cognitive dissonance requires the coexistence of two opposing ideas in one’s mind. This creates an internal friction, that rather than paralyzing our actions, it forces us to produce outcomes that seem inconsistent and even hypocritical to an external observer. For example, someone who strongly admires a political leader may come across serious allegations against them. Instead of revising their opinion, they might question the evidence or assume bias, thereby preserving the internal contradiction.

This mechanism is not just individual, it can be harnessed to socially reinforce and strategically amplify. In contexts, where group identity becomes homogenous and dominates individual identity, dissonance can actually help maintain unity. It allows people to stay aligned with the group even when there are internal contradictions. This is particularly visible in India, where politics has long engaged with deeply rooted religious identity, raising the stakes of belief and belonging.

To understand how this works, it helps to break-down religious identity into parts. In the case of Hinduism, identity is not one fixed thing, it operates through several layers that interact with each other.

The first is the primordial layer. This is the inherited ascribed foundation of identity, that one grows up with, shaped by family, early life, and cultural surroundings. It is not consciously chosen, but absorbed, often before reflective awareness develops. It embeds a person in a broader civilizational framework, and provides a sense of continuity and grounding. Because primordial a nature, it is relatively stable and emotionally grounded. But in political contexts, this same layer is often presented as fragile or under threat, which can trigger a strong protective response, that operates less through doctrine and more through preservation of inherited belonging.

The second is the behavioral or ritual layer, comprising of nityakarma (daily rituals), utsava (festivals), dietary habits etc. Unlike the primordial layer which is absorbed, this is adopted through re-enactment and participation. It’s main function is aligning the individual with the collective through shared practice. The tension begins when these practices are pushed into new forms by political mobilizations, through movements, organizations, neo-sects, under the umbrella of Hinduism. These may sit uneasily with an individual’s prior, which are often personal and private modes of engagement, thereby creating dissonance.

The third is the social-categorical layer. Here, religion becomes about boundaries, and belonging becomes relational, i.e. who belongs and who doesn’t. Hindu traditions have historically displayed a wide range of differences: different philosophical schools like the ṣaḍ-darśanas, various Vedāntic traditions, and many sampradāyas. There are also differences between vaidika and āgamika practices, and broader identities like Vaiṣṇava, Śaiva, Śākta, and Smārta, all within the idea of varṇāśrama. But political mobilization often compress this plurality, pushing toward a more uniform identity and sharper distinctions.

Fourth is the ideational layer. This includes doctrines, philosophy, and ethics i.e. what is considered to be true and what is considered as right or wrong. This layer is more flexible and adaptable layer as beliefs are reinterpreted and selectively emphasized. Dissonance is also most visible here when externally driven identities, such as those prescribed by political movements, demand actions that conflict with internally held doctrinal frameworks. Resolution often here requires reinterpretations, as individuals adjust their understanding of śāstra(s) to maintain coherence with evolving identity commitments.

On top of all this is something important, the mechanism of salience. Religious identity is not always at the front of our mind. It comes and goes depending on the situation. Salience refers to the degree to which this identity is foregrounded in perception and decision-making. Political mobilization influences it. It keeps identity chronically active, by saturating the social environment with symbols, messages, and repetition. As salience intensifies, interactions between layers become more pronounced, making cognitive dissonance more frequent and more difficult to ignore.

This is where dissonance becomes sharper. The layers don’t always align. What someone believes may not match what the group expects. Private practices may not fit public demands. A sense of stable identity may clash with repeated messages that it is under threat. These are not abstract issues, they show up as real internal pressure on the psyche.

At the level of belief versus group identity, tension can arise when a person holds on to a traditional understanding of Vedic adhikāra. In such a view, access to certain forms of scriptural interpretation or ritual participation is structured through inherited qualifications like dvija status. This can come into conflict with broader group narratives that emphasize uniform and a collective representation. The individual then has to somehow reconcile doctrinal commitments based on śruti and varṇāśrama frameworks prescribed by the śruti with these newer expectations of equal participation.

At the level of private practice versus public expectation, the issue becomes more practical. Many individuals follow religious practices shaped by sadācāra and lineage-based traditions (paramparā). These are often personal, contextual, and not meant for display. However, when there is pressure to conform to more visible, standardized expressions of religion, this creates discomfort. Practices that were once quiet and specific, whether in daily worship, temple routines, or recitation, may now be expected to fit into a more public and symbolic framework. This creates a gap between inward discipline and outward conformity. Similar tensions appear when diverse traditions like Śaiva, Vaiṣṇava, or Śākta practices are brought under a single, uniform expression for the sake of collective identity.

At the level of inherited identity versus perceived threat, the shift is more psychological. Many people grow up experiencing their religious identity as something stable and continuous. But when narratives begin to frame this identity as being under threat, that sense of stability is disturbed. A worldview shaped by varṇāśrama-dharma as an ordered and enduring system may start to feel incompatible with calls for a unified identity formation. Continuity is no longer taken for granted, it is reinterpreted through a sense of vulnerability. A similar pattern emerges when long-standing diverse ways of coexistence are seen as incapable and insufficient in the face of perceived external challenges.

Across all these situations, the individual is pulled apart in different directions at once. These demands cannot always be satisfied together, which creates a clear sense of internal tension. Let us take the case of the Sabarimala Temple Entry Controversy and examine it through this framework.

Thoughts in favour of the traditional rules first have to be understood on their own terms. If I were on this pakṣa, I would begin with the understanding that Bhagavān Svāmī Ayyappan is worshipped as a naiṣṭhika brahmacārī, an eternal celibate. This understanding is rooted in the Śrī Bhūtanātha Upākhyānam, a sthala-purāṇa associated with the Sabarimala temple tradition. To a committed āstika, this alone is sufficient grounds to uphold the customs of the temple. The source of authority in matters of Dharma, ritual conduct, and sacred observance comes from śāstra, that is, from śruti and smṛti, rather than from modern constitutional frameworks, which were never conceived as scriptural authorities or as the substratum of religious life.

However, the modern Hindu mind rarely exists untouched by reformist and constitutional discourse. A Hindu today is often shaped simultaneously by inherited religious instinct and modern political morality. Because of this, the opposing pakṣa must also be examined.

If I were on the side opposing the traditional restrictions, I would argue that the practice violates Articles 14 and 15 of the Indian Constitution, namely equality before law and the prohibition of discrimination on the basis of sex. I may further invoke Article 17, arguing that notions of menstrual impurity resemble the same exclusionary logic historically associated with caste-based untouchability. Article 25 may also be cited, defending the right of all individuals to worship without exclusion from public religious institutions.

These two sides, though fundamentally opposed, can coexist within the same individual. That coexistence of conflicting convictions is precisely what cognitive dissonance describes.

As a Hindu raised within the framework of Dharma, my primordial identity is deeply tied to continuity, sacred inheritance, and belonging. When narratives of “liberation” portray these traditions as inherently oppressive or malevolent, the conflict is not merely intellectual, it becomes personal. The attack is experienced not simply as criticism of a custom, but as criticism of the moral legitimacy of one’s inherited world.

This tension does not spare the behavioral layer of identity either. As a child, I may have observed the forty-one-day Maṇḍala-vratam before pilgrimage. Through repeated participation, such practices cease to feel external; they become part of one’s relationship with family, community, and deity. Yet practices once experienced as sacred discipline are now frequently interpreted in public discourse as discriminatory or exclusionary. What was once understood as ācāra is reframed as social prejudice.

The same conflict extends into the social dimension of identity. I may see myself simply as a devotee of Dharmaśāstā, connected to fellow pilgrims through shared observance and reverence. Yet increasingly, the entire tradition itself is characterized as oppressive or regressive. The dissonance emerges because I do not perceive the constitutional pakṣa as entirely illegitimate either. Both frameworks now exist simultaneously within the same mind, each demanding moral acceptance.

If cognitive dissonance may be understood as the collision of opposing convictions, then salience may be understood as the frequency and intensity of that collision. As the Sabarimala issue is repeatedly debated across media platforms, political discourse, and public commentary, the conflict becomes increasingly difficult to ignore. The contradiction is continuously reactivated, forcing reflection even when one wishes to avoid it.

From this point onward, several psychological responses become possible.

The first is rationalization. “I believe that Dharma must adapt to changing times, and therefore I will reject this tradition in favour of a revised moral framework.” In this case, inherited customs are reinterpreted as historically conditioned rather than eternally binding, which is wrong.

The second is compartmentalization. “Although these contradictory beliefs coexist within me, I will refuse to examine them together. I will keep them mentally separated and avoid confronting the contradiction directly.” Over time, however, repeated unresolved conflicts can produce a fragmented or unstable sense of identity.

The third is disengagement. “I will withdraw from the issue entirely by distancing myself from the religious framework itself. By abandoning the identity under strain, the psychological burden disappears.” In such cases, disengagement becomes a method of escaping persistent internal conflict.

Seen from this perspective, the emergence of new forms of Hindu identity which are viparīta-artha to that of the teachings of the śāstra-s cannot be understood merely as political change or theological reform. These identities are often shaped through repeated cycles of contradiction, reinterpretation, suppression, and psychological adaptation. To understand how such transformations occur, one must reconstruct the internal process through which these conflicts are experienced and how they are wrongly resolved.

This tension does not remain passive for long. As conflicting beliefs, practices, and identities accumulate, they generate a persistent psychological discomfort that demands resolution. Political mobilization intensifies this process by constantly increasing the salience of religious identity through symbols, narratives, and public discourse, causing contradictions that were once isolated to overlap. Personal belief begins clashing with collective expectation, while private ācāra collides with public performance and reformist pressures. As dissonance becomes chronic, individuals respond in different ways: some reinterpret dharma through modern ideological frameworks, others compartmentalize conflicting convictions, and some disengage altogether from the religious framework itself. These responses do not eliminate the tension; they reorganize it, gradually producing a chimeric identity shaped through years of contradiction, reinterpretation, and adaptation. Seen this way, transformations within Hindu identity are not merely political or cultural developments, but deeply psychological responses to the struggle for internal coherence amidst competing civilizational frameworks.

Illustrations: @patitbrahmin on Instagram

This article was originally published in our magazine Sadghoṣa.

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India’s secular constitution guarantees every religious denomination the right to manage its own affairs. In practice, when the denomination is Hindu, that guarantee has worked rather differently.

Across southern India, state HR&CE departments and Devaswom boards control over one lakh Hindu temples: roughly 44,000 in Tamil Nadu, 34,500 in Karnataka, and at least 24,722 in Andhra Pradesh, with thousands of other temples in Kerala and Telangana.1 No equivalent statutory machinery places mosques or churches under comparable direct administration. Muslim institutions operate through the Waqf structure, which has its own governance problems but is not a mechanism for state officials to run the daily affairs of religious sites. Churches are governed through private trusts and canon law. The difference in how the state approaches these communities is, in its essentials, a difference in kind and not merely degree.

The financial implications of this control are substantial. States collect mandatory contributions from temple revenues, and Andhra Pradesh authorises an extraction of 8.5% through contribution and audit fees under Section 65 of its 1987 Act. State-appointed officials manage temple landholdings extending to 4.67 lakh acres in Andhra Pradesh alone, many of which have faced encroachment disputes going unresolved for years.2 These are not administrative details at the margins of the argument. They describe a situation in which the state does not merely oversee religious institutions but effectively runs them.

This system has a political genealogy. It was built through legislation passed by Congress governments and Dravidian parties, sustained across administrations of varying orientations, and defended by the network of academics, editors, and policy commentators who constitute what one broadly calls the Indian left. When the Supreme Court struck down core provisions of this control in 1954, the Madras government, then under Congress, passed corrective legislation within months to rebuild what the Court had dismantled. When audit objections accumulated into the hundreds of thousands in Tamil Nadu, mainstream progressive commentary did not treat this as a systemic failure attributable to the administrative model itself. When temple lands were encroached upon, the intellectual reflex was not to ask whether state management had created conditions for that encroachment. The silence on these questions was a choice, even if not always a fully conscious one.

Under the Waqf Act of 1995, mosques maintain community-led management. The state’s role extends to audit and oversight, and revenues must be used for Islamic religious and educational purposes. The point is not that minority institutions are wholly unregulated; general trust law, education regulations, and income tax provisions apply to them as to any institution. The point is that there is no Church Act, no Muslim Religious Endowments Act structured anything like the HR&CE legislation, no government officer inserted into a diocese or mosque with the powers that an HR&CE Executive Officer holds over a Hindu temple. That specific architecture of direct administrative takeover has one target.

The Constitution appears, on its face, to guarantee something quite different from what the HR&CE Acts deliver. This is worth sitting with before moving to the statutory detail, because the constitutional architecture is itself part of the argument.

Article 25 guarantees every person the right to freely profess, practice, and propagate religion, subject to public order, morality, and health, and to state laws on social welfare and reform. That qualification in Article 25(2) is important. It is what gave constitutional cover to temple-entry legislation, and one should be honest that such reform was necessary. Article 26 then grants religious denominations the right to manage their own affairs in matters of religion, to own property, and to administer that property in accordance with law. Article 27 prohibits compelling citizens to pay taxes for the promotion of any particular religion. Article 30 gives minorities the right to establish and administer educational institutions of their choice, a protection that courts have interpreted broadly over subsequent decades.

Read together, these provisions sketch a state that maintains a respectful distance from religious institutions, intervening for purposes of social reform when necessary but not constituting itself as the permanent administrative manager of any religion’s affairs. The HR&CE Acts occupy a rather different constitutional space than that sketch suggests.

The Andhra Pradesh Charitable and Hindu Religious Institutions and Endowments Act, 1987 places all Hindu religious institutions under the general superintendence and control of a state-appointed Commissioner. Section 15 authorises the government to constitute Boards of Trustees across all temple income levels: those earning above one crore rupees annually have boards appointed directly by the government; smaller institutions have their trustees appointed by a Deputy Commissioner. Section 16 abolished hereditary trusteeship on the day the Act commenced. Families that had maintained temples for generations lost their institutional role through a single line of legislation. Section 29 inserts a government-appointed Executive Officer into temple administration with authority over finances, records, property, legal proceedings, and expenditure. Section 65 compels temples to pay a 7% contribution levy and a 1.5% audit fee to the state. Section 1(3) of the same Act explicitly exempts Waqf from its scope. Mosques and churches appear nowhere in its 78 pages.

Tamil Nadu’s framework is similarly structured and in some respects more expansive. The Commissioner exercises general superintendence and control, appoints and removes trustees, installs Executive Officers, and channels temple revenues into Common Good Funds administered through state machinery. Karnataka followed the same model under its 1997 Act, adding provisions compelling temples earning above ten lakh rupees annually to surrender ten percent of their net income into a state-controlled Common Pool Fund.

The Supreme Court identified the constitutional tension early. In Commissioner, Hindu Religious Endowments, Madras v. Sri Lakshmindra Thirtha Swamiar of Shirur Mutt (1954), it held that while the state may regulate secular aspects of temple administration, a law that “takes away the right of administration from the hands of a religious denomination altogether” is incompatible with Article 26. That was a meaningful constitutional limit. What followed, however, was a protracted contest between judicial constraint and legislative persistence that the judiciary did not decisively win, and the Court’s own jurisprudence on religious autonomy became considerably more complicated in subsequent decades.3

The political history of how the HR&CE structure was built and defended is more interesting than a simple account of legislative overreach.

After Shirur Mutt, the Madras legislature passed Act XXVII of 1954 within months, a corrective amendment designed to preserve state control through revised legal language. The religious heads did not accept this. In December 1955, the Madras High Court heard the challenge in Sudhindra Thirtha Swamiar v. Commissioner for Hindu Religious and Charitable Endowments, as the mathadhipatis sued the state directly over the new amendments. The state litigated back. The matter reached the Supreme Court again, which delivered its ruling in November 1962. Across this entire eight-year arc, through multiple legislative interventions and two rounds of Supreme Court scrutiny, the Congress government never seriously considered withdrawal from temple administration. The Tamil Nadu HR&CE Act of 1959, passed while this litigation was still active, was not a cautious response to judicial concern. It was the consolidation of a model the state had decided to preserve regardless of constitutional friction.

One could argue, charitably, that the state genuinely believed temple administration had become a matter of public interest given the scale of endowments, the extent of hereditary abuses, and the need for caste reform. That argument has some basis. What it cannot explain is why the same logic was not extended to other religious communities, and why the administrative structure expanded rather than contracted as the specific reform objectives were addressed through separate legislation.

The intellectual environment that sustained this arrangement drew on a particular reading of Indian secularism. Scholars like Rajeev Bhargava have argued that Indian secularism, unlike its Western variants, practices “principled distance” from religion rather than strict separation: the state may engage with religious institutions to promote social reform, and withdraw from them when reform is achieved.4 That theoretical framework is not unreasonable on its face. The problem is that in practice, the engagement with Hindu institutions never reached the withdrawal phase. The “principled distance” was applied asymmetrically. Close administrative engagement with Hindu temples, respectful distance from mosques and churches.

The DMK, whose political identity was built substantially on Periyar’s rationalist rejection of caste hierarchy and Brahminical religious authority, had particular historical reasons to frame temple control as social liberation rather than religious intrusion. That framing had genuine roots in the history of exclusion from sacred spaces. What it produced institutionally was a permanent administrative apparatus that outlasted any plausible social-reform rationale. The broader Indian left, through their journals and other academic institutions, provided the theoretical vocabulary that made this arrangement look like progressivism rather than selective state control. The question of why no comparable intervention was considered appropriate for mosques or churches was not seriously posed in these spaces, partly because answering it honestly would have required engaging with an uncomfortable structural asymmetry at the heart of the secular project itself.

The standard justification for the HR&CE regime rests on three claims:

1. Temples were sites of caste discrimination.

2. Hereditary administration had produced financial mismanagement.

3. State oversight was necessary to protect worshippers.

These claims are not invented. Hindu temples, particularly in the South, had histories of exclusion that were real and documented. Hereditary control of endowments had in some cases produced genuine mismanagement. The issue is not whether abuses existed, but whether the constitutional remedy became structurally permanent in ways the original justification cannot sustain.

The Untouchability (Offences) Act was passed in 1955. From that point forward, caste-based exclusion from temples had a dedicated legal remedy with criminal sanctions. If the administrative apparatus of the HR&CE Acts was genuinely a temporary corrective aimed at caste reform, one would expect some narrowing of scope after 1955, some return of administrative authority to denominational bodies as the reform objective was met through other legal means. There is none. Executive Officers remained. Trustee appointment powers remained. Contribution levies remained. Common Good Funds grew. Congress governments defended the structure through active litigation for eight years. DMK governments entrenched it further with new legislation. The reform rationale has been recycled across seven decades to justify a bureaucratic structure that was never designed to be dismantled.

The state did not enter temples, correct a specific injustice, and withdraw. Reform became administration, and administration became, in practical terms, something close to ownership.

The persistence of the administrative logic is evident in contemporary temple governance. In 2026, the Tamil Nadu HR&CE Department commenced the appointment of non-hereditary trustees to 214 temples, once again invoking the familiar rationale of improving accountability, transparency, and administrative efficiency. It would be historically dishonest to deny that hereditary systems, in certain cases, produced genuine concerns relating to exclusion, concentration of authority and financial mismanagement. The question is not whether reform was ever justified, but whether a corrective mechanism can continue indefinitely until the distinction between temporary supervision and permanent control disappears.

This brings into focus the difference between the State’s authority to regulate and its authority to replace. A constitutional state may legitimately require religious institutions to adhere to standards of financial propriety, prevent unlawful discrimination, and protect public interests. A far more difficult question emerges when the State assumes for itself the power to determine who shall govern a religious institution and what form its governing structure shall take. More than seven decades after Independence, the continued exercise of authority suggests that what was introduced as a remedy for historical failures has evolved into an enduring administrative relationship between the State and Hindu temples.

The defence offered for this arrangement is that temples, given their vast resources and their importance to millions of worshippers, require a degree of public oversight greater than that applied to ordinary private institutions. Yet this justification inevitably returns to the central unresolved question of the HR&CE debate: if the possibility of mismanagement is sufficient to justify direct state participation in governance of Hindu temples, what constitutional principle explains the absence of a comparable structure for other religious institutions, where accountability is ordinarily secured through general laws, judicial remedies and internal community mechanisms rather than continued state appointment of administrators?

The financial-corruption justification fares no better empirically. Tamil Nadu’s HR&CE department has accumulated nearly 1.5 million unresolved audit objections over several decades.5 Temple lands face documented encroachment disputes that government audit bodies have themselves flagged. In 2025, the Madras High Court initiated contempt proceedings against officials for failing to recover encroached temple lands. When the Tirupati laddu contamination came to light in 2024, it was not a random institutional failure. It was a failure of the specific administrative structure that had been in place for decades, in which sacred institutions are managed through layers of state-controlled bureaucracy answerable to government rather than to the worshipping community. The system that was supposed to eliminate corruption produced its own variety of both.

A recent episode concerning temple expenditure further illustrates this institutional tension. The Tamil Nadu HR&CE Department had approved forty-six projects worth ₹245.85 crore, including 29 marriage halls and 17 commercial complexes to be financed using temple resources. These projects had progressed through the administrative machinery and remained pending until they encountered legal obstacles, including court proceedings and stay orders, after which the Department eventually withdrew them in 2026.

The episode is revealing not because the projects were ultimately cancelled, but because of what the cancellation suggests about the source of institutional restraint. The protection of temple resources in this instance did not arise from an obvious internal limitation within the administrative structure; it occurred within a framework of judicial scrutiny that questioned the legality and propriety of such expenditures. The relevant question, therefore, is not merely whether the system can correct itself after external intervention, but why such proposals reached the stage of approval in the first place.

The historical significance of this pattern extends beyond a single contemporary controversy. Since the Shirur Mutt judgement of 1954, the relationship between the judiciary and the HR&CE framework has been marked by a recurrent tension; courts have repeatedly articulated constitutional boundaries on the extent of state involvement in religious institutions, while legislatures and administrative authorities have consistently sought to preserve extensive powers through revised statutory mechanisms. The modern controversy over the temple expenditure demonstrates that this underlying conflict between judicial limitation and administrative expansion has not disappeared, but merely has assumed new forms.

The stronger counterclaim, and the one the left has rarely addressed directly, is the Article 30 asymmetry. Minority communities retain broad constitutional protection to establish and administer educational and religious institutions shaped by their own traditions, and courts have interpreted this protection generously over the years. Christian institutions run schools, colleges, seminaries, and hospitals with substantial autonomy, subject to ordinary regulatory law but not to a statutory officer holding the powers of an HR&CE Executive Officer. Muslim institutions operate through Waqf structures and community governance. One can accept all of this as legitimate constitutional protection and still ask: what principle explains why Hindu denominations cannot enjoy comparable autonomy over their own temples? The answer that is usually offered, explicitly or implicitly, is that Hindu institutions require different treatment given their historical relationship to caste. But the Untouchability (Offences) Act addressed caste exclusion directly. And the administrative machinery that survives has no coherent connection to that original purpose.

What does the persistence of this arrangement reveal about the conception of secularism the Indian left actually practiced, as distinct from the secularism it theorised?

The constitutional framework, as scholars like Granville Austin documented, was designed by a Constituent Assembly aware of the tension between state neutrality and social reform. The framers permitted state intervention in religious affairs for purposes of reform but did not envision that intervention as a permanent administrative takeover of one religion’s institutions while leaving others untouched. Articles 25 and 26 together suggest a model in which the state enters religious life to correct specific injustices and then recedes. The HR&CE model does not recede, it institutionalises.

The post-Independence secular state developed, over time, a consistent double standard in its constitutional practice. When dealing with Hindu institutions, the operative language was reform, regulation, redistribution, and secular administration. Temples were conceptualised not as autonomous religious communities managing their own affairs but as quasi-public institutions requiring supervision. Revenue generated by a Hindu denomination could be pooled and redirected through mechanisms outside that denomination’s control, as the Common Good Fund provisions under Section 70 of the AP HR&CE Act illustrate. When dealing with minority religious institutions, the operative language shifted: autonomy, protection, cultural preservation, constitutional safeguard. The right under Article 30 was interpreted broadly. The right under Article 26 was interpreted narrowly, at least as applied to Hindu denominations.

This is not a conspiracy theory. It is a description of what the legislation says and what the courts have, for the most part, permitted. The asymmetry was not always the product of deliberate bad faith; it reflected a political settlement in which the Congress and Dravidian establishments had specific reasons to control temple administration, and the secular intelligentsia provided a vocabulary that made that control look principled rather than political. That vocabulary was genuinely believed by many who used it. That does not make it accurate.

What one can call this arrangement is selective secularism: a practice in which the secular state’s willingness to intervene in or withdraw from religious institutions depends not on a neutral constitutional principle but on which religious community is involved. It is not the only possible reading of Indian secularism, but it is the reading the statutory record most directly supports.

The Indian left has, for decades, positioned itself as the defender of constitutional principle against communal and majoritarian politics. That self-presentation deserves to be tested against the text it claims to uphold.

Article 26 does not contain an exception for Hindu denominations. Article 14 does not permit differential regulatory treatment of religions without principled justification. To be precise: the Supreme Court has not conclusively held that all HR&CE provisions are unconstitutional, and the jurisprudence since Shirur Mutt has been considerably more permissive of state regulation in many cases. That is part of the honest picture. The constitutional argument being made here does not depend on a finding of absolute legal invalidity. It depends on a simpler observation: the state applied different standards to different religious communities, built and sustained that differential treatment through deliberate legislation, and the intellectual establishment that championed it presented this as secular equality.

This is not an argument against the specific protections that Articles 29 and 30 afford to minorities. Those protections are constitutionally grounded and historically defensible. The argument is about what their application, alongside the HR&CE regime, reveals about how Indian secularism was actually practiced by those who claimed to be its architects. Either the principle of religious autonomy applies across communities in some reasonably consistent way, or it is being administered as a political preference dressed in constitutional language. The HR&CE Acts, the litigation record, the seven decades of unresolved audit objections, and the complete absence of any equivalent statutory takeover of mosques or churches together point toward the second description rather than the first.

That may not be the final word on Indian secularism. There are serious scholars who would contest this framing, and the relationship between state, religion, and social reform in a society with India’s history of caste hierarchy does not reduce to a simple formula. But the specific constitutional question raised by the HR&CE regime, which is why one religious community’s institutions are permanently administered by the state while others’ are not, has not been answered satisfactorily by those who built and defended the system. Saying reform is not an answer when the reform rationale ran out decades ago and the administrative apparatus remained.

This article was originally published in our magazine Sadghoṣa.

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The Greek word Philosophus was used to mean both Knowledge and Love, and it is on this basis that the English word Philosophy was popularised. Even though its primary meaning is detailed deliberation or contemplation, the word is still used for contemplative systems within specific subjects. Nowadays, the word Philosophy is even used for each strain of Darśana. Any modern Western scholar holds philosophy to be just a perspective on life. In his view, Philosophy introduces the flow of an era, born from the struggle between ages.

A philosophy is also related to the life events of its creator. Plato was an educator in a royal household, hence his philosophy carries a special influence from this political connection. Heraclitus was born into a downtrodden class, hence his Philosophy became one of change, since the oppressor class had to be changed. Helūmūsius represented the middle class, and Karl Marx represented the emerging working class; hence, according to this view, their philosophies were shaped accordingly. Marx was born in a time of great upheaval, so his life and philosophy was also one of revolution.

Even though this is true in part, it is nonetheless only the natural state of things. Such doctrines cannot be called darśana, since emotions are primary in them, and emotions are not darśana. Through emotion, even a widower can have a vision of his beloved. It is natural to doubt the truthfulness of thoughts that are affected by one’s situation. It is clear, for instance, that a tongue afflicted by a pitta disorder cannot taste the sweetness of jaggery; an eye afflicted by a pitta disorder sees even a white conch as yellow; a man bitten by a snake perceives even a sour lemon as sweet; and objects appear blue or yellow if viewed through blue or yellow glasses.

The lustful man sees the world as full of beautiful women, while the jñānin (the one who knows) sees the entire world as Brahman. The insect that lives on the nīma (Indian lilac) tree finds it difficult to experience the sweetness of rock sugar, and an ant living on a hill of salt cannot taste sugar even upon reaching a mountain of sugar, unless it first removes the particles of salt from its mouth.

Similarly, unless one rises, through penance (tapasyā), proper conduct, dispassion, and the practice of yoga (cittavr̥ttinirodhaḥ), above love and hate, prosperity and adversity, & the personal and the environmental, the true knowledge of subtle subjects is not merely difficult but impossible.

From the Bhāratīya perspective, sanctified deliberation — that is, deliberation on sanctified subjects such as Dharma and Brahman — is called Mīmāṁsā1, while the authoritative deliberation that leads to the faultless experience of the ultimate, true nature of objects is called Darśana2.

In other words, that which, through valid means of knowledge (pramāṇas), leads to knowledge of the self and the non-self is called Darśanaśāstra. Pramāṇa is that which reveals the unknown, not that which accomplishes the undone. Knowledge, unlike action, is not within Man’s control.

In performing an action, not performing it, or performing its opposite, man is independent, but the same cannot be said of knowledge. Once a connection is established between Pramāṇa and Prameya (the object of valid knowledge), the resulting knowledge arises whether or not one desires it.

Darśana is dependent on Pramāṇa. Pramāṇas are of various kinds, both agreeable and disagreeable, among which Pratyakṣa (direct perception), Anumāna (inference), and Āgama (also called Śabda, verbal testimony) are primary.

Some hold the view that the deliberation and study of questions such as “Who am I? Where have I come from? What is this universe?” constitutes darśana. Similarly, some scholars cal it to bel the study of nature and its workings, along with the observation of oneness within it.

But these views, too, contain only part of the truth. Not all darśanas can be authoritative on every subject. We can call this neither complete falsehood nor complete truth. Among Western philosophies especially, this kind of differentiation is pronounced. Darśana, on the other hand, does not show this much differentiation, since its roots lie in the eternal, authorless Veda, the scriptures based on the Veda, spiritual revelation (Yogaja R̥tambharā Prajñā), worldly perception and inference. Even so, not all the sages (R̥ṣis) are regarded equally on every subject; rather, in whichever subject a particular sage attained knowledge of the truth through Dhāraṇā, Dhyāna, and Samādhi (concentration, meditation, and trance), that sage’s authority is held ultimate only in that subject — as with Pāṇini, Kātyāyana, and Patañjali in grammar, and Jaimini and Vyāsa in Mīmāṁsā.

Among Western philosophies, most have arisen from the perspective of inquiring intellects, driven by a thirst for knowledge. Many Western philosophies have also emerged in pursuit of political goals; the ultimate goal of Darśana, however, has always been freedom from sorrow, victory over death, and the attainment of mokṣa. Along the way, the acquisition of Dharma, Artha, and Kāma are also recognised as goals.

Western philosophies mostly extend only as far as the Mind — even those that accept a “Self” tend to treat the Mind and the Self as one and the same. Nor do they deliberate on creations prior to this one, which is drastically different from the Bhāratīya concepts on the same.

Hence, we conclude that the Bhāratīya Darśanas are fundamentally distinct from the Western conception of Philosophy. While Western philosophy is largely an intellectual pursuit of knowledge for its own sake, the Darśanas are oriented towards a practical, soteriological goal.

Note: This piece is an English translation of an excerpt from Svāmī Karpātrī Mahārāja’s book Marxvaad aur Ramrajya.

The above quote, among few others from the eternal śruti and several Hindu śāstras1 which constitute the foundation of the Hindu Dharma preach the greatness of Manu and his smṛti.

And yet, it has become the most disparaged text, which is vilified as a result of the process of the intellectual subjugation of the Hindus in the past unfortunate centuries, that even the most projecting and self-acclaimed protectors of the Hindus, nowadays, are revulsive towards the Manusmṛti to the point that your mere association with Manu can get you a treatment like the medieval witch hunts. Such is the aversion, and irrational loathe against Manu harboured by the boasting champions of rationality. Yet, these knights of rationality, logic etc., are never seen engaging with the text, or the wider tradition of the Dharmaśāstras, with a genuinely inquisitive temper. How can you detest something which you are not aware of? And can you be aware of something, until you haven’t investigated it holistically? And can you set yourself for an investigation, and arrive at unbiased conclusion not sullied by your previous tainted views, until you have an equanimous and respectful temperament, even for your intellectual opponent? Such is the state of intellectual affairs.

As someone who has experienced the high tides of disdain against the Dharmaśāstras, or its precepts, our author Nithin Sridhar ji, a Civil Engineer by background, felt an awakening during the time of Sabrimala Temple Entry Case (2016-17) of really knowing the lingering traditions that have survived the ultimate test of time from their timeless sources. These are the śruti and smṛti, through which the true face of what is endeared as the Sanātana Dharma can be known. This resulted in his first book Menstruation Across Cultures : A Historical Perspective (2018) - which is peculiar for its genre, standing to exposit upon the view of the Dharma on the issue of mensturatrion, and defend the unjustified attacks based on modernistic lenses. Another such project of its kind being Sinu Joseph ji’s Women and Sabrimala (2019), and Ṛtu Viḍyā (2020).

What sets Nithin Sridhar ji apart in contemporary scholarship on Hindu traditions is his genuinely constructivist engagement with the śāstras themselves. As the author explains in the foreword, although initiatives such as the Indian Knowledge Systems (IKS) movement have popularised the idea of viewing the world through an “Indic” lens, they often lack the depth and spirit necessary to remain rooted in the Tradition. Instead of drawing their interpretive frameworks, conceptual categories, moral assumptions, and philosophical foundations from the śāstras, they frequently rely on ideas imported from the West while presenting them under the banner of an “Indic” perspective.

So, despite the earlier imposed Colonial narrative, which was supposed to be dealt away after 1947, the reality is that we still suffer from a Stockholm Syndrome of self-despisement and looking at the Firangis, while our own pillars of tradition deteriorate. Sridhar ji, demonstrates excellent scholarship, by quoting extensively from not only the Indologists such as Buhler, Olivelle, Hopkins, Keith et cetera, as an honest pūrvapakṣa, but more importantly from the long standing tradition of śāstras, such as through the works of titans such as Ādi Śaṅkarācārya, Rāmānujācārya, Vācaspati Miśra, Kumārilla Bhaṭṭa, Mādhavācārya etc., and from other Dharmaśāstras as well, showing his concern is actually with the “Mūla” of Dharma, which are the Dharmaśāstras. I was delighted to see refrences from Kavindra Rāmārāya, a relatively unknown scholar, who was hailed as Abhinava Shankara by his contemporaries for his erudite scholarship. Sridharji does not only enumerates several key texts in apt manner in his discourse, but also introduces even for a new eye in a very smooth manner how interpretive exposition is actualised within the Dhārmika framework.

The way Nithin Sridhar ji arranges the book was a little distinctive as well, because it is not monolithic and linear as it usually is, with a progression, but just like the Tradition, it is cyclical and mutually corroborating where each section reinforces the other.

The first section is divided into three chapters, of which I’ll give brief descriptions about. In the first chapter - “Origination, Transmission, and Authorship of Manusmṛti” -, the author directly addresses the pūrvapakṣa of those who hail themselves as an expert on the Dharmaśāstric tradition, but on close scrupulous look one finds the hollowness in their ‘expertise’. In this chapter, the author is concerned with the authorship of Manusmṛti. For this the author engages with textual tradition, as well as the often relegated commentarial one, highlighting with special emphasis on the nature of transferring of knowledge in the Hindu tradition, using the examples of Vedānta and Kāmaśāstra, thus the unitary authorship and consistency of the Manusmṛti is established.

Then the second chapter is titled “Place and function of Dharmaśāstra in Hindu worldview”. In this, the author takes the derisions upon the śāstra tradition which in this case are upon the authority of smṛtis themselves. The author extensively discusses the Hindu epistemology or pramāṇas, and the validity of Smṛtis owing to it being śabda pramāṇa on Dharma drawing arguments from Nyāya and Mīmāṃsā, he also exposits on the uniqueness of the Smṛtis, its pertinent subjects, which are - ācāra (practice), vyavahāra (jurisprudence), and prāyaścitta (expiation) -, and also reconciliation of them in the case of possible conflict. Author is bold regarding his defense of the Dharmaśāstras, despite the ignorance of the modern Hindus in view of flesh and skeleton of their own Dharma, and the stream of Colonial, and Post-Modern scholarship.

After having established Dharmaśāstras in their respective esteem, he ventures into the third chapter named - “Decoding Manusmṛti : Some Pointers to Make Sense of Dharmaśāstra Texts”. In this chapter, he formalises a workable definition of Dharma, which is so often thrown in modern parlance without its true scriptural meaning or context, and sets a premise of what constituets Dharma and its subject-matter. He can be seen adopting a metaphysical architecture for Dharma, instead of purely legalistic one, which makes Dharma beyond the constraints of human ingenuity, time, circumstances, or socio-political, or economic conditions. He points directly at the heart of fallacies that obscure the true precepts of Manu and other śāstras which is dearth of faithfulness on the very word which one is reading, that leads to sometimes unfounded suspicion leading to superimposition of other “variants of truth” inspired by their own agendas, which, especially the modern academia practices even when interpreting basic not so deep sentences.

There are a few instances when the author leaves the reader curious about certain subjects owing to the positivistic nature of the text as intended, for example why is “Driṣṭārtha” to be derived only from the words of Manu if there can be laukika means to attaining excellence for it, or why is “Adriṣṭārtha” or “Driṣṭārthādriṣṭārtha” to be believed when it cannot be inferred through any other direct cognitional verification. The author exerts to define types of terms for mode of expressions, and their meaning, for working through the framework of Manu or any other śāstra. He demonstrates by taking two cases of verses often attributed as controversial in modern world for their supposed misogyny:

Mr. Sridhar takes the course of heavily elucidating upon these verses with intending to vindicate the unjust disapprobation they have received by the modern minds, and exalt one of the most important Dharma of the society, the Strī dharma, and the glorious Samskāra which is Vivāha. Though he also makes the tone reasonable for intended purposes, of such verses which may provoke inflammatory response in such a sensitised society, as in the fifth adhyāya, “Sources of evil” was the topic being explained in which the context is based. Nithin Sridharji perfectly explains the need of absence of ‘independence’ in terms of “relational dharma” necessary in any civilized culture, in whose paucity we can the see consequences in past civilizational collapse, and in current trends as well.

Now coming to the highlight, and the namesake of the book that is “Catuḥ-śloki”. There are approximately 2600 surviving verses in the current recension of the text, so why has the author only these 4? It is because these verses articulate the anubandha-catuṣṭaya (fourfold connections):

Adhikārī – the qualified student eligible to study śāstra

Viṣaya – the subject matter of the text

Prayojana – the fruit or end of the undertaking

Sambandha – the relationship among the three.

This is part of a long tradition that was practiced by greats earlier such as Catuḥ-Sūtrī Vedānta of Bādrāyaṇa, bhāṣya by Ādi Śaṅkara, Vācaspati Miśra (in his Bhāmatī), Amlānanda (in his Vedāntakalpataru), Appayya Dikshitar (in his Vedāntakalpataruparimala), and so many other instances as well. The condensed form of the whole tradition, as a base to build and interpret upon is built through this. Thus in his own commentary, where Sridhar ji comprehensively and intensively provides exposition on each and every term of the first four verses of the great text, with a plethora of references, giving an ample opportunity for the reader to enjoy a great deal of topics and texts as references by him, through this it is also shown that no topic or sub-topic within the text or the larger tradition can be discussed in isolation in a discrete sense, as the nature of texts like these are intricate and conjoined with each other. The author in his commentary, which even though is not completely traditional because of its medium and language, and yet has not compromised its fidelity to the tradition, which is intellectually sound as well as morally justified thing to opt for, is comparable to the earlier commentators, from whom as well he draws his references thoroughly from.

Those who have picked up the book for the polemics or for the exoneration of the Manusmṛti, have to wait a little while the crucial foundations are being built, for the Appendix-I which is “Hindu Conception of Varṇa” : Exploring its multifaced nature. This should not be understood as just an apologetics, but an undaunted embracement of our tradition, which is rooted in the truths which are not contingent upon acceptance or social validation. The author shows that the Hindu conception of the society is not some high-fy utopian ideal of a perfect society, but one which acknowledges innate differences in disposition, temper, Karmic inheritance, or just the “svabhāva”, which alters the respective “Svadharma” leading to the “siddhi” of the Catuṣ-Puruṣārtha (Dharma, Artha, Kāma, and eventually Mokṣa), the penultimate surmise being that the “śreyas and nihśreyas” is attained through one’s abidance by Dharma which is what is dictated by the scriptures, not our profligacies. Thus, in this section a holistic view of Varṇa as enjoined by the Manu and other śāstrakāras is laid.

In the Appendix-II, “Antarprabhāva in Surendra Kumar’s ‘Viśuddha Manusmṛti’ : A critical examination in the view of its professed revisionist interpretation.” Nithinji in this section of book refutes all the 6 arguments as laid by Surendra Kumar, a scholar belonging to the Arya Samaji allegiance, who in a revisionist work of his - Viśuddha Manusmṛti - sought to vindicate the modern controversies and apprehension of this great civilizational text, with whitewashing or rather erasure of anything that provides discomfort to the man of modernity, standing in complete opposition of the tradition on many key issues, which makes his work inadmissible and irreconcilable. Sridhar ji answers him as well, guarding Manusmṛti against both prejudiced attacks as well as complete capitulation in sensitisation to the anathema of the true tradition.

The last section, Appendix-III, ends with a extolling praise on Bhagāvana Manu - as addressed to him in the second verse, in which Kulluka Bhaṭṭa quotes the definition of ‘Bhagāvana’ according to Viṣṇu Purāṇa -, wrriten by Kushagra Aniket in the beautiful Śārdūlavikrīḍita Chhanda.

Thereby, this endeavour by Nithin Sridhar ji is an excellent and much needed attempt at making Dharmaśāstras the central point of intellectual harbour which is so lost in the modern discourses. With this, the genre of Śāstrik texts are reinvigorated, and something which comprises of Śāstras being discussed in the English, as a response to the discourses which lives-off through denigration of what is older, in the tradition, and original, in favour of incredulous and confounded claims, as it is high time for those who are concerned with the civilizational heritage in a dormant, passive way, but who seek the glorious revival of what was once was, it is their utmost imperative to engage in discussions with genuine credibility, which can only be afforded by a meticulous study of the Śāstras, through our own framework, and reading lens, and not of those who have no stake in the preservation of the ideals of the Hindu tradition.

Thus, through this work, what once were a little inaccessible, the precepts of Dharma by Manu etc., as given in the Śāstras, to the Hindu who is normie, culturally alienated, and extirpated from a Dhārmik social life, rituals and practices, is now availed with this work, without compromising its complexities and core nature, therefore something in the field of modern Hindu literature. I end this succinct opinion of mine with a hope that this work inspires hope, admiration and inspiration for more of such scholars to come out and produce such works, though it is highly ambitious but I dare to say, that the transformation of society for the ultimate goal of the Hindu/ārya life, that is attainment of the knowledge of the ‘Self’, would materialise only through the path of Dharma as enjoined in its true, infallible sources, and therefore it is the utmost priority of the Dhārmikas to engage with the tradition in the manner ascribed by it, and thus propound upon it and disseminate to dispel the darkness of ignorance with the Sun of the true knowledge.

This article was originally published in our magazine Sadghoṣa.

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In the past few years, we have seen that the system has repeatedly tried to prevent people from discussing about controversial cases that are detrimental for the establishment’s image on social media and even in real life, the most recent incident being the ban of Telegram citing paper leak as the reason; they banned a messaging app because they could not control their own employees from selling NEET exam papers for money.

Few years ago, this might have looked like a satirical news by The Onion, but in 2026 this is a reality. Another buzz that happened recently was Raghav Chadha’s move to the BJP, when people on the internet started talking about it, the Government ordered the takedown of videos and tweets posted on Instagram and X related to this topic. The Government is not the only institution engaging in similar actions, as merely writing a few paragraphs on Judicial Corruption in an NCERT textbook became a career-ending move for the authors after the Supreme Court came down heavily on them.

The thought of writing a piece about this topic occured to me when I read about the new rules in the Draft Amendment of IT Rules, 2026. The Government is no longer satisfied with controlling the traditional media, i.e. the newspapers, TV channels, and news portals; the Government is now keen on controlling social media platforms as well, these new rules now apply the same restrictions on individuals and independent researchers that were previously limited to traditional media. This means someone making videos, writing articles on politics, or even just making tweets will have their content censored or deleted based on the decision made by an Inter-Departmental Committee whose members will be representatives of different ministries. This will lead to mass censorship on a scale never seen before, and this is just one of the rules contained in this amendment.

To understand how these Government orders work and their effect, we will have to take a look at how the rules and regulations governing social media and the internet have evolved over the past two decades. In this time period, the digital and internet ecosystem of India has seen enormous transformations, the internet has gone from being an elite privilege to a service available to the general public, the present situation is that 70% of India’s population now has access to the internet. Accordingly, the rules and regulations governing the internet and social media have evolved over time.

Evolution of Rules

The First Framework: IT Act, 2000

The Information Technology Act, 2000 was primarily enacted to give legal recognition to e-commerce and electronic records, and, for the first time, provided a legal framework for cybercrimes. Before this Act Indian law only recognized physical paper documents. The act introduced several significant changes:

1. Legal Recognition: It granted electronic records and digital signatures the same legal status as their physical counterparts.

2. Electronic Governance: Allowed Government agencies to accept digital filings and applications.

3. Cyber Crimes: It defined and prescribed the punishments for activities like hacking, data theft, and spreading malware.

The 2008 Amendment

This amendment expanded Sections 66, and 69, redesigned Section 79 and transformed the IT Act from primarily an e-commerce statute into one that also governed cybersecurity and state surveillance, and created the ‘Digital Police state’ framework. This amendment gave the Government broad powers to monitor and block the internet. The major changes were:

1. Section 66A: Criminalized posting of “offensive” content and messages on social media. It was infamously used as a tool to suppress free speech and arrest citizens for political posts on social media. In 2015, the Supreme Court struck it down as unconstitutional.

2. Section 66C to 66E: These provisions dealt with Identity theft, cheating by personation through computer resources (such as fake online profiles), violation of privacy and voyeurism.

3. Section 66F (Cyber Terrorism): Any act intended to threaten the unity, integrity, or sovereignty of India through computer resources was made punishable with life imprisonment.

4. Section 69: Expanded the powers of the state, authorizing it to intercept, monitor and decrypt any information. Before this, the Government was legally allowed to intercept transmission of data but not decrypt stored data.

5. Section 69A: Created a legal framework to allow Government to block public access to online information or websites in the interest of national security, public order, or friendly relations with foreign states. This essentially gave the Government the power to restrict anything from public access by giving excuse of national security or public order.

6. Section 69B: Authorized the Government to monitor and collect metadata.

7. Section 43A: Held companies liable for data leaks, no upper limit was defined for the compensation to the victim by the company.

8. Section 79 (Safe Harbour): This provision grants immunity to intermediaries i.e., online intermediaries such as internet platforms from being held liable for content posted by users on the platform with some conditions attached, this is called ‘Safe Harbour’. The condition is that intermediary must prove that it is a ‘neutral host’, this requires proving three things. First, it did not initiate the data transmission (user did), Second, it did not select who receives the data, Third, it did not modify the data contained in the transmission. The platform will lose its immunity if upon receiving a Government or court notice for takedown, the platform still does not delete the post.

This amendment gave the state enormous powers to legally control the internet and treat privacy of its citizens as a joke. This was the first step in a series of steps that Government took to gain more control over the digital world and reduce the privacy of its citizens, but it was certainly not the last step.

The 2009 Blocking Rules

These rules are the legal framework used by the Government to block websites, specific URLs and mobile apps (such as blocking hundreds of Chinese apps). Besides laying down the framework and procedure to be followed while blocking the apps or websites, one of the most controversial provisions in these rules is Rule 16 (Strict Confidentiality). This rule mandates that all blocking requests, orders, and actions taken must be kept strictly confidential.

This is why Government web-blocking orders are rarely published openly, making it difficult for the public or civil society to review the specific legal reasoning behind such bans.

The 2011 Guidelines

These rules prescribed a set of “due diligence” requirements that intermediaries had to follow to retain Safe Harbour protection, violating these rules meant anyone can sue them for the content posted by third party users on their platform. The major rules were:

1. Rule 3(1): All intermediaries must publish their Privacy Policy and User Agreement.

2. Rule 3(2): The User Agreement and Privacy Policy must explicitly state that users were strictly prohibited from posting content that belongs to another person, is defamatory, obscene, invasive of privacy, or racially/ethnically objectionable.

3. Rule 3(4): 36-Hour Takedown Rule: This rule mandated that intermediary shall act within 36 hours of receiving a complaint by “any affected person” in writing or via mail.

4. Rule 3(4): Evidence Preservation: All the data and records must be preserved for 90 days. This meant even if the User requests data deletion, the companies must still store it for at least 90 days from the day of upload or posting of content.

Because the wording used in the 36-hour guidelines mentioned any affected person, there was no explicit requirement for a police warrant or court order being needed. This meant that any private individual could lodge a complaint and the platform must act on it within 36 hours, missing the deadline could result in loss of Safe Harbour protection so all the platforms universally followed a ‘delete first, ask questions never’ policy. If a complaint was received, the post was taken down immediately without checking if it violated the rules or not. This resulted in suppression of free speech and freedom of expression, social media platforms took down satirical posts, investigative journalism pieces and unpopular political opinions, etc.

This rule allowed Government to achieve Proxy Censorship, i.e. instead of the Government having to issue formal takedown notices and explain the reasoning behind them, they could outsource the policing of censorship to private individuals and companies. These rules had no framework for counter appeal, if a platform deleted a user’s post upon receiving a complaint, the user had nowhere to go to appeal against the post’s takedown.

The 2015 Judgement

The Judgement delivered by a two-judge Bench of the Supreme Court on Shreya Singhal v. Union of India case in 2015, resulted in a significant change in the IT Act. The major changes introduced by the judgement were:

1. Section 66A Struck Down: This section was responsible for suppression of free speech since it allowed arrest and imprisonment of up to three years for posting content deemed ‘offensive’ online. The rules regarding offensive posts were vague, so potentially anyone could be arrested. the Court acknowledged this and struck down this Section in its entirety.

2. ‘Reading Down’ of Section 79: The Court recognized that private platforms were deleting the posts before reviewing them upon receiving complaints from any private individual due to 36-hour takedown rule, resulting in high levels of censorship, the court changed the interpretation of the rule thereby fixing the problem, now the platforms only had to delete posts within 36 hours if they receive official Government takedown notices or court orders. Private individual complaints will no longer make the platform legally liable to delete the posts within 36 hours. This ‘Reading Down’ of the rules ensured platforms could not be bullied by private individuals into deleting social media posts.

3. Section 69A upheld as constitutionally valid: This meant that the Government had the powers to block websites and information on the internet in the interest of national security, public order, or friendly relations with foreign states.

Despite this, even after the Supreme Court struck down Section 66A and declared it unconstitutional, the local police stations across the country still filed FIRs and arrested citizens on the basis of this section for years. This farce ended when NGOs approached the Supreme Court again, ultimately led the Ministry of Home Affairs to direct all states to drop all pending cases of Section 66A .

Draft Rules of 2018

So far we have discussed the rules which the previous regimes had been successful in implementing, thereby resulting in greater Governmental control over online privacy and anonymity on the internet. But, in 2018, the Indian Government took it a step or even a ladder too far, they wanted to implement rules which would spell the end of privacy on the internet. Let us examine them:

1. Traceability Mandate (Rule 3(5)): The intermediary shall enable tracing out of such originator of information on its platform as may be required by Government agencies who are legally authorised.
   
   This rule is meant to destroy end-to-end encryption, and if made into law would have resulted in end of Digital Privacy as we know it. According to this provision, messaging app providers (WhatsApp, Telegram, etc) must have capability to trace back the ‘First Originator’ of any forwarded message within Indian borders. Following this would have meant the messaging apps could no longer offer end-to-end encryption on their platform.

2. 72 Hour Deadline (Rule 3(5)): Strict time limit to provide technical assistance, user details, metadata, or decryption assistance to any authorized Government agency tracing cybercrimes.

3. 24-Hour Takedown (Rule 3(8)): Reducing the previous 36 hour deadline to 24-hour for removing content on receiving notice from Government or Court.

4. Mandatory Automated Filtering (Rule 3(9)): This rule forced social media companies to proactively filter out content at the time of upload to remove unlawful content. This effectively meant, everything the users post on social media will go through automated algorithms which will check and censor everything before it is published to public on social media. This is extremely similar to the infamous Chinese Censorship model, where private tech companies (like Tencent and Baidu) use AI filters to scan uploaded content before allowing it to be visible to the general public.

5. Evidence Lock Time Doubled (Rule 3(8)): The 90 days requirement was doubled to 180 days. This meant all the data and records of all users must be kept for at least 180 days after the user sends account deletion request.

Due to these egregious and unreasonable demands stated above, the Government faced severe backlash from all sides, from legal scholars, NGOs (such as SFLC.in) to major technology companies and industry bodies (Wipro, etc). The pushback was so severe that when the Government published the compilation of counter-arguments they had received, it exceeded 600 pages.

This kind of pushback that came from all sides forced the Government to withdraw these unreasonable rules, which signified a small win for the digital privacy rights activists. But the Government was not defeated, it had merely retreated to let the outrage die down. Just 3 years later, in 2021, after after revising its approach, the Government was back once again with a set of new laws that were the toned down version of 2018 draft as well as more expansive in scope.

The 2021 IT Rules

This time in 2021, the Government did not focus solely on social media, they also included online News portals and OTT streaming platforms under their strict centralized regulations, thereby significantly expanding the scope of the regulation. These 2021 Rules were not just meant to add small changes to 2011 Rules, they were meant to supersede them, i.e. IT Rules 2021 would take the place of 2011 Rules, thereby making 2011 Rules relics of the past. What were these new rules? Let us take a look at some of these rules that are related to digital privacy of common people:

1. Two Tier Classification: A major framework change introduced was two-tier classification of Social media platforms, platforms with more than 50 lakh users were termed as Significant Social Media Intermediary (SSMI), the rest of them that did not satisfy this criterion were termed as just Social Media Intermediary (SMI). Due to having a larger impact, SSMI needed to follow a larger number of ‘due diligence’ rules as compared to SMI. We will only discuss those rules that impact digital privacy, and ignore other procedural rules like the Three-Officer Mandate.

2. Traceability (Rule 4(2)): This rule is for tracing “First Originator” of messages on SSMI, compared to its predecessor in 2018 which had an all-encompassing scope where any kind of message must be traced, this rule of 2021 limited the scope to only those messages that threatened Sovereignty, Integrity and Security of India, friendly relations with foreign states, public order, CSAM, even then only those cases in these categories which are punishable with at least five years imprisonment will allow application of this rule. Apart from narrowing down the scope, additional restrictions were also imposed — (1) this rule could only be used if there were no other less intrusive options available to identify the ‘First Originator’ of the information. (2) Content of any electronic message will never be disclosed, any other info related to first originator or other users cannot be disclosed. (3) If First Originator is located outside India his info will not be disclosed, the first originator inside India will be considered as the First Originator whose information must be disclosed.
   
   At first glance it looks like Government has put down severe restrictions on usage of this rule, but if we look closely it is easy to notice that friendly relations with foreign states and public order are very broad terms, this means Government can use these as an excuse to ask for identity of ‘First Originator’ if it wants to find it. The restriction of not using this in case of less intrusive ways being available has a very big loophole, since Government Authorities can just claim they were unable to find identity by any other means.
   
   The restriction of not disclosing the content of the messages is there because in cases where E2E encryption is being used, it is simply impossible to find out the content of the message by any means other than getting the possession of phone from which message was sent or received. Even the last restriction is mostly useless, since Indian Laws will not apply on those who are foreign citizens. The only major restriction is it can only be used in those cases where punishment is 5+ years of imprisonment.

3. 24-Hour Nudity & Deepfake Takedown (Rule 3(2)): Upon receiving complaint from an individual regarding content that shows them in full or partial nudity, or deepfake videos involving them. These videos must be taken down from the platform within 24 hours since the time of receiving the complaint.
   

   The problem with this rule is that no currently available technique can identify deepfakes with perfect accuracy. So even real videos that contains genuine evidence about some powerful person can be taken down from social media by labeling them as deepfake. This rule will allow Government to suppress investigative journalism. Rather than applying same rule for nudity and deepfake, it would be better to make separate rules for both keeping in mind the difficulties in verifying whether a video is deepfake or not.

4. Evidence Lock Time (Rule 3(1)(h)): All the data and records of all users must be kept for at least 180 days after the user sends account deletion request. This is identical to the 2018 draft version with no changes.

5. Mandatory Automated Filtering (Rule 4(4)): A SSMI must scan all content on upload to identify content that is related to rape, CASM, or information that has been blocked by court orders, and upon finding such content it should be removed from public access in India. There are some so-called restrictions on this rule which are: (1) Action taken must keep in consideration the freedom of speech and expression, and privacy rights of users. (2) Human oversight must exist over these automated tools, also periodic review must be done. (3) Periodic review must evaluate Fairness, accuracy, bias and discrimination in these tools.

These restrictions are as good as having no restrictions, the only good thing has been that the scope of censorship under this law has been reduced to just sexual content and information blocked by court orders, as compared to a broader scope of “unlawful content” in 2018 draft rules.

So even after the Government was unsuccessful in enacting the 2018 draft rules, it succeeded in enacting similar rules with some changes in 2021. But the Government did not stop here, in its continued efforts to expand regulatory oversight and have surveillance over its citizens via the internet. It still introduced two new amendments in 2026, one has been made into a law, another is still under process.

IT (Digital Media Ethics) Rules Amendment, 2026

This amendment1 establishes a comprehensive framework on dealing with AI-generated content. It legally defines Synthetically Generated Information (SGI) and makes it mandatory for SSMI to screen uploaded content using automated AI tools to detect SGI and force the user to declare it as such. One of the major problems with this amendment is the drastic shortening of deadlines, let us examine them:

This shortening puts tremendous pressure on social media companies, leading to companies removing content instantly upon receiving complaint without checking if the content is problematic or not. This will ultimately lead to higher levels of censorship.

The Government did not stop here, it has now introduced another amendment which is yet to be enacted, if it gets implemented this new amendment will have very dangerous consequences for online speech and digital privacy.

Draft (Second) Amendment of IT Rules 2026

This amendment can be seen as something that fundamentally alters the structure of the IT Rules, it grants the executive arm of the Government power to bypass the legislature and force the companies to follow any advisory, notice or guidelines issued by the Ministry even when it has not been enacted as a Law. That’s just one aspect of this amendment, let us examine the principal provisions:

1. Rule 3(4): Intermediaries must comply with and give effect to any clarification, advisory, order, direction, standard operating procedure, code of practice or guideline issued by the Ministry.
   
   The major problem with this rule is that clarifications, advisories, and guidelines are non-binding in nature and do not form part of “Law” as they lack statutory force, i.e. they have not been passed by the Parliament. This rule gives power to the Government to force the companies to follow each and every whim of the Government, for example the Sanchar-Saathi app fiasco, where Government wanted all phone companies to install the app by default, but since it was only a direction issued by Government, the companies fought back against it. But here Government wants that its directions should have same binding force as a ‘law’ does, this is problematic, because this allows Government to skip the ordinary legislative process and directly enforce whatever it wants with respect to Part II of IT Rules 2021.

2. Rule 8(1): This rule applies Rules 14, 15 and 16 from Part III of the IT Rules to news and current affairs content hosted by intermediaries and even non-publisher users (previously only limited to “online paper, news portal, news aggregator, news agency”).
   

   The definition that defines ‘news and current affairs content’ if applied to non-publisher users will mean that everyone who comments on or expresses opinions about on news and current affairs can have their content removed by the Government based on the decision taken by an Inter-Departmental Committee. We are aware of the amount of censorship and restrictions put upon the TV news channels, Newspapers, News portals is significantly greater compared to what has been applied on normal social media users till now, but this rule will apply same levels of censorship on both. This means anyone who speaks against the Government position on any issue can have their content removed or censored. This is suppression of free speech on the same level as the infamous Chinese Censorship. There is no need of this new amendment when Section 69 already exists, through which Government can give orders for content blocking and removal.

Till now, we have looked at how the Government of India has always tried and been sucessful in gaining stronger control over the internet along with diluting the Privacy and anonymity rights of its citizens. Here, I must say that people of India must look beyond party lines, it does not matter whether the NDA or the UPA is in power, everyone must see a wider trend of how the Government has been trying to take control of the internet. We have talked about how the rules and regulations that govern the internet have changed over the past two decades, now we will take a look at Internet Shutdowns in India.

Internet Shutdowns

Internet shutdowns should be regarded as a measure of last resort for the Government since it restricts everyone from using the internet. Let us take a look at how many Internet Shutdowns have taken place in India in the past decade, precisely since 2012 till June 2026.2

The total number of Internet Shutdowns that have happened in India till June 2026 is 923, nearly half of them (448) occurred in Jammu and Kashmir. This is not at all surprising and might even be justified looking at its terrorism history, but the interesting thing to note is that after J&K, it is Rajasthan which had the 2nd most number of Internet Shutdowns with a total number of 114, which is surprising since Rajasthan has not historically experienced an insurgency comparable to that of Jammu and Kashmir.

So I looked into it some more and found that on 7th Feb, 2026 the internet was shutdown in Hanumangarh, Rajasthan because of anticipation of the farmer’s protests against the establishment of ethanol factory, if the Rajasthan Government imposes internet shutdowns for cases like these, then surely it becomes less surprising that it had more than 110 internet shutdown since 2012.

To know more, visit sflc.in, it contains a valuable mine of information related to digital and privacy laws in India.

Illustrations: @patitbrahmin on Instagram

This article was originally published in our magazine Sadghoṣa.

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For as long as those of us interested in economics and politics have been consuming media related to said topics, we have most assuredly encountered the debate between capitalism and communism. We are mostly expected to pick one side or the other. Evidently, neither of the two are exempt from criticism. Capitalism is a system where man exploits a man, and Communism, vice versa. I present two quotes that provide a critique of capitalism and socialism, from Pope Pius XI and Pope Leo XIII respectively.

For toward the close of the nineteenth century, the new kind of economic life that had arisen and the new developments of industry had gone to the point in most countries that human society was clearly becoming divided more and more into two classes. One class, very small in number, was enjoying almost all the advantages which modern inventions so abundantly provided; the other, embracing the huge multitude of working people, oppressed by wretched poverty, was vainly seeking escape from the straits wherein it stood.

-Quadragesimo Anno, Pope Pius XI

To remedy these evils the Socialists, working on the poor man’s envy of the rich, endeavor to destroy private property, and maintain that individual possessions should become the common property of all, to be administered by the State or by municipal bodies. They hold that, by thus transferring property from private persons to the community, the present evil state of things will be set to rights, because each citizen will then have his equal share of whatever there is to enjoy. But their proposals are so clearly futile for all practical purposes, that if they were carried out the working man himself would be among the first to suffer. Moreover they are emphatically unjust, because they would rob the lawful possessor, bring the State into a sphere that is not its own, and cause complete confusion in the community.

-Rerum Novarum, Pope Leo XIII

The cons of both these systems are evident are debated upon for ages, and hence not the subject matter here. My purpose is to highlight an often overlooked system of economics which is way older and is more holistic than both of these systems: Distributism.

This term was formalised by the likes of G.K. Chesterton and Hilaire Belloc, who were heavily influenced by the encyclicals of Pope Pius XI and Pope Leo XIII, who simply wrote about economic thought as is ordained in the Bible, hence we can say Distributism is a formalised version of the Christian economic thought. However, such systems have been followed by almost every serious civilization such as the Middle East, India and China since the dawn of time, up until the dawn of modernity and the spread of industrialisation. Hence, I use the term Distributism for traditional economic thought, which is as it will be used in this article.

What is Distributism?

Distributism can be concisely describes as support for workers rights, such as owning property. It advocates for widely distributed ownership of capital, focus on the family as the root of the economy as well as emphasis on small businesses. It is against monopolisation, consumerism, government ownership of assets etc. One of its most important doctrines is the doctrine of property ownership being a God given human right.

Smaller businesses being the norm also ensures fair competition and vast consumer choice. The lack of monopolies leads to different choices for the same product being available to the masses, which also ensures competitive spirit between traders. If I had the luxury of choosing between more than fifty traders selling the same article in my area, a single trader would need to outperform forty-nine others to gain my attention. This ensures competitive prices and a higher quality.

Secondly, Smaller businesses imply that bad customer response would impact the business vastly as compared to large monopolies.

Capitalist economies having monopolies also don’t account for articles which are in high demand among specific minorities, as a product which is very important for a small portion of people (say cotton hand spindles for traditional Brahmins who make their own Janeu, the sacred thread) and not at all for others will be considered unimportant and unprofitable for a monopoly and its production will come to halt, leading to problems for the minorities for whom said product is very important. Communist economies too don’t support heterogeneity and would not support such endeavors, crushing diversity of choice.

Private Ownership and Self-Reliance

In Rerum Novarum, Pope Leo XIII states that people are likely to work harder and with greater commitment if they possess the land on which they labour, which in turn will benefit them and their families as workers will be able to provide for themselves and their household. He puts forward the idea that when men have the opportunity to possess property and work on it, they will learn to love the very soil which yields in response to the labor of their hands, not only food to eat, but an abundance of the good things for themselves and those that are dear to them. Humans are tribalistic by nature, they will aim to do good for their kind and even more so for those who share blood with them.

In contrast to socialist economies, where property is owned by the state which eliminates the incentives one may feel when working on land he owns. All the cultivation is taken off by the Government and often a fraction of what one worked for is given as reparation, thus leading to dissatisfaction and workers having a lack of incentive.1

The question of self reliance too is a huge one. Under a communist society, man has no control on what he can own and what all he does, he must do for the community. If the government wishes, he will lose his house and his bread. He is at the mercy of the government and the moment disaster strikes, he is left naked and without support.

Capitalist societies too aren’t exempt from this problem, as the government is replaced by the big businessmen who own the means of production. For example, Bill Gates, a tech billionaire is the largest farmland owner in the United States. Nothing the everyday individual owns is his own, all he owns is by mercy of the capitalist. His paycheck is everything he has. The day he loses his paycheck, the everyday man will starve. Louis de Bonald, the French counter-revolutionary philosopher writes2—

Agriculture feeds her children, but industry gives birth to children she cannot always feed. The child who comes into the world in an agricultural family finds his sustenance already assured, for the earth that his parents cultivate and that he will cultivate in his turn awaits him to give him his bread. The child born into an industrial family expects his sustenance from the salary he will earn if a master employs him, and if his industry is not stricken by events that could make it falter, or shut down, or prevent the sale of its products. The farmer lives from his produce even when he does not sell it. The industrial worker cannot live unless he sells what he produces. Thus, the agricultural family enjoys an existence independent of men and events, while the industrial family is dependent upon them both.

Capitalist economies set up a farce of freedom for the commoner while communist economies straight up deny it. The means of production being widely distributed leads to way more freedom and self-reliance, unlike the other systems the few control everything. Things which are of the highest importance to survival are in the hands of people very unrelated to the individual. For instance, food production, security etc. are impossible in cases of disconnect, as technology has made it next to impossible for the individual to do these on his own.

Contractual Labour and Treatment of Workers

To draw a parallel between contract labour and medieval peasantry, the latter were given housing, clothing, food etc. by their owners which today is contrasted by employees being given the same amenities by their overlords, but indirectly i.e. they are given straight money which gives a sense of freedom. As most of that money is spent in housing, food, clothing etc. while the workers toil for their employer.

In a communist society, the capitalist overlords are replaced with the government, and the cycle of oppression continues. On the contrary, distributist economies eliminate this problem through the promotion of informal labour, which is a resultant of family based economies being the norm. Such a system focuses on a personal relationship between the employer and the employee which leads to an elimination of worker mistreatment. A personal relation between employee and employer in traditional economies leads to a personal bond and better treatment.

Worker guilds too, aid in ensuring workers rights, which is talked of by Pope Pius XI and Pope Leo XIII in their respective encyclicals.

Secondly. Family-based economies also ensure confirmation of occupation for everyone in the family they were born in. Such kin-centric approach across the world ensured mastery in craft, apprenticeships giving on the job experience to young people. This resulted in the lack of unemployment in traditional societies and poverty, owing to ease of access to work for everyone. South Indian Madhva Pontiff Svāmī Viśveśvaratīrtharu has explained this beautifully—

Individual liberty [to choose profession] may be harmful for the country as a whole. All might rush into a profitable business and comparatively less profitable business may be neglected. If farmers grow only the lucrative crops like tobacco at the expense of rice and wheat, the result would be an all-round food scarcity. The equilibrium between the various professions will be lost and society will be lopsided. This will give rise to cut-throat competition. Some professions will be overcrowded while others will be neglected.

We should ensure balanced and all-round development of the whole nation. Work should be distributed among all people and it should be done, if need be, by force. Individual liberty should not overpower the larger interests of the state... When a man is grown up and his likes and dislikes are already well set, it is cruel to force him to do some work against his will. He will not be able to adjust himself to his new task for which he has neither the inclination nor aptitude.

It is better to catch one young and mold him into whatever profession you want him to follow in later life. When he grows, he will naturally embrace the profession waiting for him... The question of who should be trained in which profession is solved quite easily. Depending upon his aptitude and the environment in which he is growing, he has to select his profession. The hereditary traits flow in the family. He will naturally show an aptitude in the particular profession of his forefathers, given that he grows up in the same environment as is required for his profession in his home.

By this way, enough people are allocated to each and every profession and there is no room for a cut-throat competition, and an all-round progress of the whole society is ensured. All these are achieved by the kin-centric varṇa/jāti vyavasthā which has been practised by our worthy ancestors. It is with the highest motive of material and spiritual advancement of the whole society that this such systems have been instituted.

-Viśveśvara Tīrthasvāmī, Gītāsāroddhāra (Translated from original Kannada)

Similar is the case with the three orders in Europe among other such systems in Asia and across the world.

The Modified Scheme of Elementary Education scheme of 1953 proposed by the Congress government of Madras state under CM C. Rajagopalachari, which talked about the introduction of two shifts or sessions in elementary schools—in one session regular teaching would be done and during the second session, the students would be sent home to learn the occupations of their parents fits in this principle well and could have proven to be very useful for the nation. It was however scrapped due to insecure politics, but it got support from some of the greatest minds of India in that time, such as Pt. Jawaharlal Nehru and Dr. Rajendra Prasad; who wrote in a letter to the erstwhile governor of Madras expressing his dissatisfaction with the education system. He noted that large number of graduates in India are unemployable, and that they would be better off continuing their parents’ work at their own place.3

Currency and Banking

Currency is another important aspect of economics, which too is not untouched by traditional economic thought. While distributism doesn’t talk much about it, traditional societies often engage in trade through commodity money i.e. precious metals such as gold coins, silver coins, copper coins, shells (cowries and so on) etc. There are many benefits to this system, such as the reliability and predictability this system offers.

Fiat Money, which is mostly prevalent nowadays, is notorious for its unreliability and begs for faith in the system. If the system collapses, and an economic recession arises causing inflation etc. phenomena to occur, then the currency is reduced to a piece of paper; as has been seen many times such as the instance of the Weimar Republic, Zimbabwe etc. This fear is eliminated by commodity money. Long term savings too are impractical in fiat currencies as inflation erodes them over time. Objects with intrinsic value henceforth are to be held as the only valid means of exchange.

Banking too is an important aspect of economics. Private Banking is a trap and a capitalist hellhole. Those who need credit are the ones who are left exempt from it and those already swimming in cash earn more to fill their coffers. As Bob Hope rightfully says, a bank is a place that will lend you money if you can prove that you don’t need it!

Going towards smaller self help groups, credit unions and mutual banks on small scales between smaller communities is the way of tradition, as personal lending relations ensure more people get loans without much hassle, leading to less wait times and the lenders too have security of their money owing to the lendee being of personal acquaintance.

Consumerism

Consumerism, which is highly prevalent in today’s day and age, does not merely encourage consumption; it actively manufactures desire. Artificial needs are created through advertising, social pressure, and cultural conditioning, transforming luxuries into perceived necessities. This process harms not only the environment, through overproduction and waste, but also the moral and cultural fabric of society. Traditions are hollowed out, craftsmanship is replaced by disposability, and economic life becomes oriented toward endless acquisition rather than meaningful use. In his work The Affluent Society, J.K. Galbraith notes that a society can make a case even for the most bizzarre and immoral wants of the consumer, but the case cannot stand if it is the process of satisfying wants that creates the wants.

This Idea is also covered by Dr. Kaczynski in his work, wherein he illustrates this by an example—

Consider the hypothetical case of a man who can have anything he wants just by wishing for it. Such a man has power, but he will develop serious psychological problems. At first he will have a lot of fun, but by the end by he will become acutely bored and demoralized. Eventually he may become clinically depressed. History shows that leisured aristocracies tend to become decadent. This is not true of fighting aristocracies that have to struggle to maintain their power. But leisured, secure aristocracies that have no need to exert themselves usually become bored, hedonistic and demoralized, even though they have power. This shows that power is not enough. One must have goals toward which to exercise one’s power.

-Dr. Theodore Kaczynski, Industrial Society and its future

A traditional distributist alternative, by contrast, seeks to reorient economic life toward production rooted in real needs, personal effort, and communal responsibility. In doing so, it offers not only a more sustainable relationship with nature but also a more humane vision of social and moral life.

Religion and Morals

Finally, one of the strongest points of a traditional distributist economy, is it’s reliance and basis being transcendental principles of tradition. Texts such as The Bible, Papal encyclicals, Al-Quran, Hadiths, Itihāsa-Purāṇas, Smṛtis such as those of Br̥haspati, Kātyāyana, Manu, Yājñavalkya, Nārada etc. which are clear, unchangeable, and ensure reliability of rules and regulations. One may argue regarding these texts being outdated and unable to do justice to the current socio-economic sphere, which is incorrect. In the Traditional world view, these texts are linked to an eternal tradition (Sophia Perennis) which is all encompassing. We can see this in the encyclicals of the papacy, Dharmasabhās of Hindu scholars, Fatwāhs by Islamic scholars etc.; wherein they have discussed many modern topics such as economic trends, social trends, religious verdicts relating to modern scenarios (such as the large debate about foreign travel through airplanes during the 1900s between Hindu scholars, due to the prohibition of crossing the seas present in the scriptures) etc., in the light of their respective traditions.

Secular constitutions are heavily unreliable owing to their being not linked to transcendental traditional truths. Man can never rely on secular systems of authority as no one knows when a previously established rule will be reduced to ramblings of backward people, as seen in the endless reinterpretations and amendments of constitutions. When society is not governed by transcendental moral principles, the mercantile class is the first to fall in the trap of greed.

Thus, when proper business ethics becomes the very religion of the Mercantile class, the minimisation of exploitation and corruption is achieved. Svāmī Karapātrījī speaks about this as such—

Accepting private property leads to inequality. Capitalist countries fail to account for this imbalance, leading to all the virtues of this (private property) turning into vices. However, Rāmarājya involves the use of Royal power and Dharma to establish balance in the economic system. Where Dharma and Royal order, both are disregarded, we call it “arājakatantra” (chaotic state).

-Dharmasamrāṭ Svāmī Karapātrījī, Vicārapīyūṣa​ (Translated from original Hindi)

Several religious scriptures speak of the fact that a merchant who is resolute and unwavering in his religion is hard to be the corrupt bourgeois capitalist a modern businessman is. I present some of such quotations here.

It can therefore be argued that a traditional distributist system may offer significant value to humanity, as it has the potential to support more holistic development across various strata of society and address many of the shortcomings found in currently prevalent economic systems.

This article was originally published in our magazine Sadghoṣa.

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Introduction

Human experience presents itself as an ordered world rather than a chaotic stream of sensations. Every object in our experience (i) appears somewhere, every event in our experience (ii) occurs somewhen and every change we believe in (iii) seems connected to other changes. From the earliest civilizations to the most advanced scientific enterprises of the modern age, human inquiry has sought to understand this order and to express it in coherent principles. Among the most fundamental notions employed in this endeavor are (i) space, (ii) time, (iii) causality which are used to explain how things arise in space-time external world. Space provides the framework within which objects are situated and related. Time provides the succession through which events unfold. Causality elaborates on the intelligible connection by which one event is understood to arise from another. Together, these notions constitute the basic architecture through which both ordinary experience and scientific investigation interpret the world.

The remarkable achievements of science bear witness to the power of this framework. By studying spatial relations, temporal regularities and causal interactions, humanity has uncovered the laws governing planetary motion, electricity, chemical transformations, biological evolution, and the structure of matter itself. Technologies that have transformed civilization, from medicine and transportation to communication and computation stand as practical demonstrations of the predictive and explanatory success of scientific inquiry. But the very success of a conceptual framework invites deeper reflection upon its foundations. Concepts that prove indispensable in practice are not thereby exempt from philosophical examination. Indeed, the history of thought repeatedly shows that ideas long taken as self-evident often conceal profound questions regarding their nature, origin, and justification. Accordingly, before considering the limits or implications of any particular theory, it is necessary to examine the fundamental notions through which experience and science alike apprehend reality. Among these, space, time and causality occupy a uniquely central position, serving as the principal coordinates through which the world becomes intelligible to human understanding.

If we build our philosophy from the very foundational knowledge, the idea of Svaprakāśa as held by Śrī Harṣa, or the idea of Cogito as held by Descartes, is that awareness is indubitably present. Everything can be doubted, but awareness cannot be doubted, for the very act of doubting one’s awareness presupposes awareness. Now, self-awareness on its own does not give any information, but it is the awareness of thoughts, feelings, objects and so on that gives us information. Say, if you feel pain, the awareness of pain is indeed there. Even though you cannot be certain about its source, you are certain that there is an awareness of pain. If you were to doubt it, you’d need to presuppose such an awareness of pain, for pain is a qualia subjective to individuals and you cannot reject something which is not given to you. What is implied here, if you are feeling hurt or aware of the pain at this moment, you cannot doubt it, for doubting it would need an unique awareness, which is subjective and thus you’d need to presuppose such an awareness. Now if we go back to our primitive definition, every object in our experience (i) appears somewhere, every event in our experience (ii) occurs somewhen and every change we believe in (iii) seems connected to other changes. Every experience necessarily appears somewhere and somewhen. The “somewhere” is spatial extension and “somewhen” is temporal succession. We cannot meaningfully describe an experience devoid of both space and time, for such an experience becomes what we call nirvikalpa, which cannot be used for building philosophy. A sound is heard at a moment. A color occupies a region. A thought occurs in a temporal sequence. Even a dream possesses its own apparent spatial and temporal order. From this we can say that space presents to us co-appearance, time presents to us succession and causality presents to us necessity.

The Central Problem

But there is one thing to be noted in these three ideas. Space and time are directly given, for every experience is about somewhere and somewhen but the third idea, i.e. necessity, is not directly given to us. Even in my definition, it is said every change “we believe in” “seems” to be connected to others changes. This question about causality and the pramāṇa (means of knowledge) which can lead to the knowledge of causality is a very crucial one. For this factor of causality is through which inductive inference works. And inductive inferences are the main source of information for Modern Science and also other schools of Philosophies, especially the Western Religions such as Christianity, Islam and Western Rationalist Schools such as Cartesianism. So, in this article, we shall delve into the concept of causality and check whether what we believe in, is actually there, or whether it is merely a mirage.

Śrī Harṣa

Śrī Harṣa was an Indian philosopher and poet who belonged to the Advaita Vedānta tradition, also known as Kevalādvaita. This school of thought is most prominently associated with Ādi Śaṅkarācārya, though its development was by no means limited to him alone. Among the most influential works of the Advaita tradition, apart from Ādi Śaṅkara’s commentaries on the Upaniṣads, the Brahma Sūtras and the Bhagavad Gītā, are three important philosophical treatises, (i) Khaṇḍana-khaṇḍa-khādya, (ii) Citsukhī and (iii) Advaitasiddhi, each composed by a different ācārya. Śrī Harṣa’s contribution to this tradition was Khaṇḍana-khaṇḍa-khādya (literally, “The Sweetmeat of Refutations”). In this work, he undertakes a rigorous examination of the Nyāya school of realism, critically analyzing its epistemological and metaphysical doctrines before subjecting them to a sustained dialectical refutation. The text is widely regarded as one of the most sophisticated works of philosophical criticism in the Advaita tradition. In the present discussion, we shall examine Śrī Harṣa’s treatment of causality as presented in Khaṇḍana-khaṇḍa-khādya. Specifically, we shall consider eight different definitions of causality that he analyzes and the arguments through which he seeks to refute each of them.

The Eight Arguments and their Refutation

1. Nirvyāpāratva: According to this, a cause is that whose presence prevents an effect from either always existing or always remaining absent, thereby explaining why the effect arises at a particular time. For example, clay is said to be the cause of a pot because, without clay, the pot would never come into existence, clay thus prevents the pot’s permanent nonexistence.
   
   At first sight, this appears to offer a deeper explanation of causality than mere temporal priority, since it attempts to account for why an effect appears when it does. But Śrī Harṣa points out that the definition is circular. How do we know that clay prevents the pot’s permanent absence? The answer can only be that clay is already regarded as the cause of the pot. In other words, the definition does not explain causality but secretly presupposes it. An analogy may make the problem clearer. Suppose someone defines a teacher as “one who performs the functions of a teacher.” Such a definition is unhelpful because one must already know who the teacher is in order to identify those functions. A better definition would’ve been “one who performs the action of teaching”. Similarly, to identify something as preventing the permanent absence of an effect, we must first identify it as the cause. The definition therefore merely restates causality in different terms rather than providing an independent account of it. For this reason, Śrī Harṣa concludes that Nirvyāpāratva fails as a definition of causality, since it relies upon the very concept it seeks to explain.

2. Vyāpāra, or Operation: According to this view, a cause is that which performs some operation that brings about the effect. For example, when a potter fashions a pot, the potter’s stick strikes and shapes the clay, this striking is regarded as the operation through which the pot is produced. At first glance, this definition appears satisfactory. A carpenter cuts wood to make a table, a cook heats ingredients to prepare food and a potter shapes clay to produce a pot. The notion of operation therefore seems to capture an important feature of causation.
   
   However, Śrī Harṣa explains that the definition ultimately fails because it is circular. If an operation is defined as that which produces an effect, then the concept of causation has already been assumed in the very definition. We identify an action as an operation only because we already regard it as causally connected to the effect. Suppose someone defines a “builder” as “one who performs the act of building.” When asked what exactly counts as an act of building, the answer is “an act performed by a builder.” Such a definition explains nothing because each term depends upon the other. Similarly, the notion of operation cannot explain causality if it is itself understood in causal terms. The difficulty becomes even more pronounced in cases such as a yajña producing svarga. Once the ritual has been completed, no observable operation remains that can be seen to connect the sacrifice with its future result. One may posit an unseen or invisible operation, but such an operation is accepted only because one already assumes a causal connection between the ritual and its effect. Thus the explanation merely presupposes what it was intended to establish. For this reason, Śrī Harṣa concludes that Vyāpāra cannot serve as an independent definition of causality, since it relies upon the very notion of causation that it seeks to explain.

3. Pūrvabhāvitvam, or Prior Existence: According to this view, a cause is simply that which exists before its effect. So, clay is regarded as the cause of a pot because the clay exists prior to the pot’s production. This definition initially appears plausible because, in ordinary experience, every effect seems to be preceded by its cause, such as a seed exists before a tree, cotton before cloth and clay before a pot. One may therefore be tempted to conclude that whatever exists earlier than an effect is its cause.
   
   Śrī Harṣa points out that such a definition is far too broad. Before the production of a pot, not only the clay but also countless other things such as the nearby mountain, the village king, yesterday’s sunrise and innumerable other objects, already existed. If mere prior existence were sufficient for causality, all of these would have to be considered causes of the pot, which is clearly absurd. Therefore, such a definition is not precise either.

4. Prāgabhāvatva, or Prior Nonexistence: As per this view, a cause is that whose absence entails the prior absence of the effect; in other words, an effect cannot arise without its cause. For example, without clay there can be no pot. The absence of clay implies the absence of the pot, and thus clay is regarded as the cause of the pot. A house cannot be built without bricks, a cloth cannot be woven without thread and a pot cannot be produced without clay.
   
   However, Śrī Harṣa says that the definition leads to serious difficulties when applied consistently, especially in the case of destruction. Consider the destruction of a pot. Before the destruction occurs, the destruction itself is absent. If we apply the same principle, then the absence of destruction prior to its occurrence would require some further cause whose absence explains that prior absence. But before that cause can operate, its own effect, namely the destruction, would still be absent, leading to the demand for yet another prior destruction. This generates an infinite regress. Imagine someone claims that every demolition requires a prior demolition in order to occur. But then that prior demolition would itself require an even earlier demolition and so on without end. The building would never actually be demolished. Similarly, if destruction must satisfy the same conditions as production under this definition, destruction becomes impossible. Alternatively, one would be forced to conclude that the pot is beginningless and can never truly be destroyed. Since both alternatives are unacceptable, Śrī Harṣa says that Prāgabhāvatva cannot serve as a universal definition of causality. A definition of cause must be capable of accounting consistently for both the coming into being of things and their destruction and this account fails to do so.

5. Niyatapūrvabhāvitva, or Necessary Prior Existence: According to this view, a cause is not merely something that exists before its effect, but something that necessarily and invariably precedes it. So, clay is considered the cause of a pot because the pot never comes into existence without being preceded by clay. However, even a regular sequence does not establish causation which is a necessary connection. We often observe one event consistently preceding another without concluding that the former causes the latter. For example, people have traditionally observed that ants carrying their eggs frequently precede rainfall, yet no one would claim that the ants cause the rain. Similarly, a rooster may crow before sunrise every morning, but its crowing does not bring about the rising of the sun. In both cases, one event regularly precedes another, but the relation is clearly not causal.
   
   The deeper problem, according to Śrī Harṣa, is that what we actually perceive is only a sequence of events. We observe that one thing occurs before another and perhaps that this sequence repeats itself regularly. What we do not perceive is any necessary connection binding the two together. The notion that the earlier event somehow compels or produces the later one is an additional assumption rather than something directly given in experience. Say, a person notices that every time they carry an umbrella, it rains later in the day. After observing this pattern repeatedly, they might be tempted to think that carrying an umbrella causes rain. Yet the regularity of the sequence alone does not justify such a conclusion. At most, it establishes a correlation between the two events as given in experienced somewhen. Likewise, the mere fact that one event necessarily or always seems to precede another does not demonstrate that it is the cause. So this definition too isn’t rational.

6. Sambandha, or Relation: A cause is whatever bears a special relation to its effect. Thus, clay is regarded as the cause of the pot because there exists a relation between the clay and the pot. At first glance, this definition appears reasonable, for causes and effects do seem to be connected in some way. Whenever we speak of a cause and its effect, we naturally assume that there must be a relation linking the two.
   
   But, Śrī Harṣa argues that the mere existence of a relation is insufficient to establish causality. The difficulty is that many kinds of relations can exist between two things, such as contact, inherence, identity, difference, proximity, or succession, yet none of these uniquely identifies a causal connection. More importantly, relations are generally reciprocal. If A is related to B, then B is equally related to A. The relation itself does not tell us which of the two is the cause and which is the effect.

7. Sāmagrī, or the Complete Causal Complex: According to this view, an effect is produced not by a single cause but by an entire collection of conditions working together. In the case of a pot, for example, the relevant factors include the potter, the clay, the wheel, the stick, the water and other necessary conditions. The cause is therefore identified not with any one of these individually but with the complete assemblage of all of them taken together. Most effects in everyday life arise only when several factors cooperate. A meal requires ingredients, utensils, heat and a cook. A house requires bricks, tools, workers, and materials. It may therefore seem natural to identify the cause with the entire causal complex rather than with any single component.
   
   Here as well, Śrī Harṣa argues that this mistake faces a fundamental dilemma. If the sāmagrī is merely the collection of individual causes, then the definition becomes circular, because the notion of cause has already been assumed in specifying the members of the collection. We can identify the complex only after we have already identified its constituent causes. Say, someone defines a football team as “the collection of football players.” If asked how the players are identified, the answer is “they are the members of the football team.” Such an explanation simply moves in a circle. On the other hand, if the sāmagrī is said to be something distinct from its constituent factors, a separate entity over and above the potter, clay, wheel, stick, and water, then no such independent thing is ever perceived. We observe only the individual factors themselves, not an additional entity called the causal complex existing apart from them. If one insists that such a distinct entity exists, the question immediately arises as to what unites those factors into a complex. One may then be forced to posit another complex to explain the first, leading to an infinite regress. Therefore, this explanation too is not rational.

8. Finally, we come to one of the most obvious definitions set forth by the Naiyāyika realist. Having seen the failure of the various proposed definitions of causality, the Naiyāyika, instead of attempting yet another definition, argues that causation is simply self-evident. After all, ordinary people constantly speak of causes and effects, scientists explain phenomena through causal laws and daily life appears impossible without causal reasoning. Why, then, should causation require a definition at all?
   
   Śrī Harṣa here asks a fundamental question, by which valid means of knowledge (referred to as pramāṇa) is causation established? Perception cannot establish it, for perception reveals only objects and events i.e. experienced somewhere along with their temporal sequence i.e. experienced somewhen. We may see a potter shaping clay into a pot, or observe fire followed by smoke, but we never directly perceive a mysterious causal power connecting the two. What is given in perception is merely one event followed by another. Nor can inference establish causation, since inference itself presupposes a causal connection. When we infer the presence of fire from the sight of smoke, the inference works only because we have already accepted that smoke is causally connected to fire. To use inference to prove causation would therefore be circular. We cannot use Śruti either, for Śrī Harṣa says that since Naiyāyikas believe that Īśvara is the efficient cause of Śruti, to even use Śruti would be to presuppose causality. The same difficulty arises with arthāpatti (i.e. postulation), which also relies upon causal reasoning in order to explain observed facts. Suppose someone claims that a witness is trustworthy because another witness says so and when asked why the second witness is trustworthy, appeals back to the first witness. Nothing has actually been established, since each depends upon the other. Likewise, if every attempt to prove causation already assumes causation, the proof never gets off the ground. Śrī Harṣa thereby declares that causality is not a rational principle.

But, Śrī Harṣa does note that people continue to observe seeds growing into trees, potters producing pots, fire cooking food and actions yielding results. His point is rather that causation cannot be given an ultimately coherent philosophical definition. Every attempt to define it encounters serious difficulties. Some definitions are too broad, including things that are clearly not causes, others are too narrow, excluding cases that are ordinarily accepted as causal, such as delayed karmic results. Still others are circular, presupposing the very notion of causation they are supposed to explain. In certain cases, the definitions even lead to self-contradictory consequences, such as rendering destruction impossible or implying that effects are beginningless. As a result, none of the proposed accounts succeeds in establishing causation as a rationally defensible category. In everyday life, it is perfectly acceptable to say that the potter makes the pot, fire cooks food, medicine cures disease, or karma produces future results. Such statements serve practical purposes and remain valid within ordinary experience. Śrī Harṣa’s target is a much stronger claim, that is, the realist’s assertion that causation is a real relation existing independently in the world.

David Hume

Several centuries after the time of Śrī Harṣa, a remarkably similar critique of causality emerged in the West through the work of the Scottish philosopher during the Enlightenment. Although there is no evidence that Hume was influenced by Śrī Harṣa or the Advaita tradition, the parallels between their analyses are striking.

On Forms of Reasoning

Before examining Hume’s critique of causality, it is important to understand the concept of induction, which plays a central role in his philosophy. Induction is a form of reasoning in which we move from observed cases to unobserved cases. For example, every flame we have previously touched has been hot, so we conclude that the next flame will also be hot. Similarly, the sun has risen every day in the past, so we expect it to rise tomorrow and water has always boiled at approximately 100°C under standard atmospheric pressure, so we assume it will continue to do so in the future. In each of these cases, the conclusion goes beyond what has actually been observed. The future event has not yet occurred, yet we confidently project our past experience onto it. This feature distinguishes induction from another form of reasoning known as deduction.

In deductive reasoning, the conclusion follows necessarily from the premises. For example, if all humans are mortal and Devadatta is a human, then it necessarily follows that Devadatta is mortal. If the premises are true, it is impossible for the conclusion to be false. The conclusion is already contained within the premises and is merely made explicit through reasoning. Inductive reasoning, by contrast, does not provide such certainty. Suppose someone observes that every crow they have ever seen is black and concludes that all crows are black. The conclusion may be reasonable, but it is not logically guaranteed. The discovery of even a single white crow would be sufficient to disprove it. Thus, deduction yields certainty, whereas induction yields only probability. While deduction preserves truth, induction extends our knowledge beyond immediate observation at the cost of certainty.

Hume further distinguished between two broad kinds of knowledge: relations of ideas and matters of fact. Relations of ideas are necessary truths that can be known through thought alone. Examples include statements such as “2 + 2 = 4”, “A triangle has three sides” and “All bachelors are unmarried.” Their denial involves a contradiction, making them necessarily true. Matters of fact, on the other hand, concern the world as revealed through experience. Statements such as “Fire burns”, “Water freezes”, “The Earth orbits the Sun” and “Coffee wakes me up” belong to this category. Unlike relations of ideas, their opposites remain logically conceivable. There is no contradiction in imagining a world in which fire freezes instead of burns, water burns instead of cools, or the sun fails to rise tomorrow. Such scenarios may be contrary to our experience, but they are not logically impossible. This distinction is crucial for Hume’s later argument, because causation and scientific prediction belong to the realm of matters of fact and therefore cannot claim the same certainty as mathematical or logical truths.

On the Ways of Proving Induction

Whenever we reason from past observations to future expectations, we implicitly assume that nature will continue to behave in the future as it has behaved in the past. This assumption is referred to as the Principle of Uniformity of Nature. For example, if every mango seed previously planted has produced a mango tree, we naturally expect that a newly planted mango seed will do the same. Yet this expectation is not derived from the observed facts themselves. It depends upon the additional assumption that the regularities observed in the past will continue into the future. Without such an assumption, induction would have no foundation, for no amount of past observation could justify any conclusion about what has not yet been observed.

Hume therefore asks a crucial question i.e. can reason itself prove that nature must remain uniform? His answer is negative. Pure logic cannot establish that the future must resemble the past. There is no contradiction in imagining a world in which gravity suddenly ceases to operate tomorrow, fire becomes cold instead of hot, or water begins to flow upward rather than downward. Such scenarios may appear strange and contrary to all previous experience, but they are not logically impossible in the way that a square circle or an immortal mortal would be. Since their opposites can be conceived without contradiction, reason alone cannot demonstrate that nature must continue to behave as it has behaved before.

One might then appeal to experience rather than reason. After all, nature has behaved uniformly throughout our past observations. Perhaps that historical success justifies our confidence in the future. Hume argues, however, that this response merely shifts the problem rather than solving it. To say that nature has behaved uniformly in the past and therefore will continue to do so in the future is itself an inductive argument. It assumes precisely what it seeks to prove. The reasoning takes the form: induction has worked before; therefore induction will continue to work. But such a conclusion already presupposes that the future will resemble the past. Consequently, experience cannot provide a non-circular justification for induction.

This leads to what is often called Hume’s problem of induction. Any attempt to justify induction seems trapped in a circle. If asked why we trust induction, we reply that it has been successful in the past. If asked why past success should guarantee future success, we answer that nature behaves uniformly. If asked why we believe nature behaves uniformly, we appeal once again to past experience. The argument therefore returns to its starting point without ever providing an independent justification. The principle being defended is repeatedly assumed throughout the defense itself.

A simple example can explain the force of Hume’s challenge. Suppose someone asks why the sun will rise tomorrow. The common response is that it has risen every day in the past. Hume does not deny this observation, rather, he questions whether the observation logically proves the conclusion. The fact that the sun has always risen before establishes only what has happened up to the present moment. It does not logically entail what must happen tomorrow. A person born today, having no prior experience of sunrise, could not be given a deductive proof that the sun must rise the next morning. At most, one could point to past regularities and infer a future continuation. Thus, according to Hume, the statement “it always has” never logically entails the statement “it always will.” Our confidence in the future rests not upon demonstrative proof but upon habit, expectation, and the psychological tendency to project past regularities onto unobserved cases.

Why do we believe in Induction?

If induction cannot be justified by either reason or experience, an obvious question arises, why do human beings continue to rely upon it with such confidence? Hume’s answer is that our trust in induction is not grounded in logic but in custom or habit. Through repeated experience, the mind becomes accustomed to certain patterns and automatically expects them to continue. A child who repeatedly encounters fire and feels heat soon comes to expect heat whenever fire is present. This expectation arises naturally and irresistibly, not because the child has constructed a philosophical proof, but because repeated experience has conditioned the mind to anticipate a familiar outcome. According to Hume, our belief that the future will resemble the past is therefore a psychological tendency rather than a conclusion established by rational demonstration.

Scientific laws are typically formulated through repeated observation and experimentation. For example, scientists observe objects falling toward the Earth, identify regularities in their motion, and formulate laws that describe those regularities. These laws are then used to make predictions about future events. Yet, as Hume points out, every such prediction assumes that nature will continue to behave in the future as it has behaved in the past. Science can show that a pattern has been consistently observed, but it cannot logically prove that the pattern must continue forever. Thus, Hume is not attacking science or denying its practical success. Rather, he is exposing a philosophical assumption that underlies all scientific reasoning. Science depends upon induction and induction itself lacks a rational justification that is free from circularity.

Hume’s analysis of causation follows a similar line of thought. When we repeatedly observe one event followed by another, the mind gradually comes to associate them and eventually projects a necessary connection between them. Say, there are two billiard balls. One ball strikes the other and the second begins to move. After witnessing such sequences many times, we naturally conclude that the motion of the first ball causes the motion of the second. But Hume asks what is actually observed in this situation. We perceive the first ball moving, the contact between the balls and the subsequent motion of the second ball. What we do not perceive is any necessary force or causal power binding the two events together. In this respect, Hume’s analysis closely resembles Śrī Harṣa’s challenge to causal realism. Both philosophers ask where this alleged necessity is found in experience. What is directly observed is only succession, one event followed by another. The sense of necessity appears to be supplied by the mind itself rather than perceived in the objects.

Does this make Hume a complete skeptic? Not quite. Hume acknowledges that, although induction cannot be philosophically justified, it is practically unavoidable. Human beings are constituted in such a way that they naturally form expectations about the future based upon past experience. Even the most radical skeptic expects food to nourish, sleep to restore energy, and unsupported objects to fall when released. Daily life would be impossible without such expectations. Hume’s conclusion is therefore not that we should abandon induction, but that we should recognize its true foundation. Our reliance upon it rests not upon demonstrative proof but upon the habits of human nature. Reason may reveal the limits of induction, yet nature compels us to continue thinking and acting inductively nonetheless.

On Causality

To appreciate the radical nature of Hume’s analysis, it is important to understand the traditional conception of causation that prevailed before him. Philosophers generally believed that objects possess genuine causal powers through which they produce their effects. Fire was thought to possess the power to burn, gravity the power to attract and medicine the power to heal. Effects occurred because their causes contained productive capacities or powers. Variations of this view were accepted by Aristotelians, Scholastic philosophers, Cartesians, Locke, Newtonians and many others. Hume’s challenge was very simple, where exactly is this alleged causal power observed?

Consider a familiar example. A match is struck, and a flame appears. Ordinary language naturally describes the striking as the cause of the flame. Yet Hume asks us to examine what is actually presented to the senses. We observe the movement of the hand, the friction of the match against the surface, the ignition of the chemicals, and the appearance of the flame. At no stage do we perceive a mysterious causal power passing from the striking to the flame. The senses reveal only a sequence of events. The supposed productive force connecting them is never itself observed.

According to Hume, everything we actually observe in causal situations can be reduced to three features. First, there is spatial contiguity. Causes and effects generally occur near one another in space. The match and the flame are adjacent, and colliding billiard balls come into contact. Yet proximity alone cannot establish causation. A tree standing next to a house does not cause the house simply because the two are spatially close. Second, there is temporal priority. The cause precedes the effect: the striking occurs before the ignition, and the seed exists before the tree. However, succession by itself proves nothing. Night regularly precedes day, and a rooster may crow before sunrise every morning, yet neither is the cause of the event that follows. Third, there is constant conjunction. Repeated observation reveals that certain kinds of events are regularly followed by other kinds of events. Fire is followed by heat, ice by cold, knives by cutting, and unsupported objects by falling. The more frequently such conjunctions are observed, the stronger our expectations become. Nevertheless, Hume emphasizes that observation reveals only repeated conjunction, not any necessary connection binding the events together.

This leads to Hume’s central question, where is the necessity? Suppose a person has observed one hundred thousand instances in which fire is accompanied by heat. What exactly has been observed? According to Hume, nothing more than one hundred thousand instances of conjunction. The observer has witnessed that heat has always followed fire, but has never perceived any necessity compelling heat to follow. Experience informs us about what has happened, not about what must happen. The notion that the effect is somehow forced or necessitated by the cause is not directly given in perception.

Hume therefore advances a remarkably radical thesis. The necessary connection that people ordinarily attribute to objects does not originate in the objects themselves but in the mind of the observer. Through repeated exposure to regular sequences, the mind develops expectations and then unconsciously projects those expectations onto the external world. An analogy may help clarify the point. A flat cinema screen appears to possess depth because the visual system contributes information that is not literally present on the screen. Similarly, repeated conjunctions in nature come to appear necessary because the mind contributes to the feeling of necessity. The necessity seems to belong to the objects, but in reality it originates within the observer.

Another useful comparison is provided by optical illusions. After staring at a rotating spiral for some time, stationary objects may appear to move even though no movement exists in the objects themselves. The apparent motion arises from the operation of the visual system. Hume suggests that causal necessity functions in a similar manner. The world presents one event followed by another, while the mind experiences a feeling of necessary connection between them. What is perceived externally is succession; what is added internally is necessity.

On this basis, Hume offers two famous definitions of causation. According to his first definition, a cause is an object followed by another object such that all objects similar to the first are followed by objects similar to the second. This account appeals solely to regular succession and avoids any reference to hidden powers or metaphysical necessities. His second definition makes the psychological element explicit, a cause is an object whose appearance leads the mind to expect another object. Here the emphasis shifts from objective necessity in the external world to subjective expectation within the observer.

These conclusions also transform the way in which science is understood. Traditionally, many philosophers regarded science as a means of discovering the hidden causal powers operating within nature. Hume, however, interprets science differently. Scientific inquiry identifies stable regularities and formulates laws that describe how events are observed to occur together. Such laws enable prediction and explanation, but they do not reveal any ultimate metaphysical necessity underlying the phenomena. Science therefore describes what consistently follows what, rather than uncovering intrinsic causal powers hidden within objects.

The example of gravity can easily explain the point. When an apple falls from a tree, Newton explains the phenomenon through the theory of gravitation. According to Hume’s interpretation, Newton did not discover the metaphysical essence of gravity or directly perceive a necessary force connecting masses. Rather, he identified an extraordinarily reliable mathematical regularity governing the behavior of physical bodies. The achievement of science lies in the discovery of such regularities and the ability to predict future events on their basis. What science provides is knowledge of patterns and relations within experience, not direct access to hidden necessary connections existing behind those patterns.

Responses to Hume

Hume’s critique of causality and induction proved so influential that it shaped the course of subsequent philosophy. One of the most significant responses came from Immanuel Kant, who famously remarked that Hume had awakened him from his “dogmatic slumber”, Kant agreed that causality cannot be derived from experience alone, since experience reveals only particular events and their succession. However, he rejected Hume’s conclusion that causal necessity is merely a product of habit. According to Kant, causality is an a priori category of the understanding, a fundamental structure contributed by the mind itself. The mind does not passively receive a world already organized into causes and effects, rather, it actively organizes experience through concepts such as causality, substance and unity. In this way, Kant sought to preserve the validity of causal judgments while accepting Hume’s criticism of empiricist accounts of causation.

A very different response was offered by Karl Popper, who accepted Hume’s critique of induction and agreed that no amount of repeated observation can logically establish the truth of a universal law. Instead of attempting to justify induction, Popper argued that science does not actually proceed through verification. Scientists formulate bold hypotheses and then subject them to severe tests. A scientific theory can never be conclusively proven true, but it can be shown to be false if its predictions fail. According to Popper, scientific progress occurs through falsification rather than verification. Theories that survive repeated attempts at refutation are retained, not because they have been proven true externally, but because they have not yet been falsified externally, which is somewhat similar to the Mīmāṃsaka and Vedāntic conception of svataḥ-prāmāṇya-vāda.

Likewise, Russell acknowledged the force of Hume’s challenge and regarded the problem of induction as one of the deepest issues in philosophy. Russell agreed that Hume had uncovered a genuine difficulty in our attempts to justify knowledge of the future on the basis of the past. Although science undeniably depends upon inductive reasoning in practice, Russell conceded that no completely satisfactory logical solution to the problem had been discovered. The success of science demonstrates that inductive methods are extraordinarily useful, but usefulness alone does not amount to a philosophical justification. In this respect, Russell regarded Hume’s problem as still unresolved.

Bertrand Russell

Russell was a British philosopher, logician, mathematician and public intellectual who played a central role in the development of twentieth-century analytic philosophy. Renowned for his contributions to logic, the philosophy of mathematics, and epistemology, Russell combined rigorous analysis with a deep concern for the foundations of human knowledge. Like Hume, he was skeptical of many assumptions that had long been taken for granted in philosophy. In particular, he questioned whether the traditional notion of causation occupied the fundamental role that philosophers and scientists had often attributed to it. While Russell did not reject the practical success of science, he argued that modern scientific theories should increasingly describe the world in terms of mathematical laws and functional relations rather than in terms of metaphysical causes and effects.

Russell’s investigation begins with a fundamental epistemological question i.e. is there any knowledge that can be regarded as completely certain? Unlike metaphysics, which asks what ultimately exists, epistemology asks how we know what exists. Since our knowledge of the external world appears to come through the senses, Russell begins by examining whether the senses themselves can be trusted as reliable sources of knowledge. Before we can claim to know anything about the world, we must first understand what exactly is given in experience and what, if anything, lies beyond it.

To illustrate the problem, Russell introduces his famous example of a table. Common sense tells us that when we look at a wooden table, we directly perceive the table itself. Russell argues, however, that this is not strictly true. What we immediately experience are various sensory qualities, a particular shade of brown, a certain shape, a smooth texture, a feeling of hardness and so forth. Moreover, these qualities vary according to the circumstances of observation. The table appears lighter or darker under different lighting conditions, changes its apparent shape when viewed from different angles, and may even appear different to different observers. Since these appearances constantly vary, no single appearance can be identified with the real table itself. What is immediately present to consciousness is not the table as such, but only a particular appearance of it.

This leads Russell to the distinction between sense data and physical objects. Sense data are the immediate objects of awareness, the color we see, the sound we hear, the warmth we feel, or the taste we experience. These are directly known and, while they are being experienced, cannot be doubted. A person may be mistaken about what caused a pain, but cannot be mistaken about the fact that pain is being experienced. Physical objects, by contrast, are never directly given in experience. The table itself is not immediately known; rather, it is inferred as the underlying cause of the various sense data associated with it. Russell therefore distinguishes between appearance, consisting of sense data directly known to the mind, and reality, consisting of physical objects that are known only indirectly through inference.

Once this distinction is made, a profound skeptical problem emerges. If all that we directly know are our own sense data, how can we be certain that anything exists outside the mind at all? Dreams, hallucinations, mirages, optical illusions and virtual environments can all generate experiences of colors, sounds, people and objects without corresponding external realities. Merely having an experience does not by itself prove the existence of an external object corresponding to that experience. Thus a gap appears between what is immediately known and what is believed to exist independently of the mind. This is the classical skeptical challenge that Russell seeks to address.

Unlike the skeptic, however, Russell does not conclude that the external world is unknowable or like the annihilationist, nonexistent. Instead, he asks which explanation best accounts for our experiences. One possibility is that only sense data exist and that everything else is a kind of illusion. Another possibility is that physical objects genuinely exist and produce the sense data that we experience. Russell argues that the second hypothesis is far more reasonable. It provides a simple and coherent explanation for the remarkable consistency of experience, the agreement between different observers, the predictability of events, and the success of scientific investigation. Consequently, Russell accepts the existence of an external world not because it is directly perceived, but because it offers the best explanation of the sensory experiences we have. The physical world becomes an inference supported by its explanatory power rather than an object of immediate certainty.

Nāgārjuna

Several centuries before Śrī Harṣa and nearly two millennia before the debates of modern Western philosophy, Nāgārjuna emerged as one of the most influential philosophers of the Buddhist tradition and the founder of the Mādhyamaka school. Renowned for his rigorous dialectical method, Nāgārjuna subjected fundamental philosophical concepts such as causation, motion, time, and existence to critical examination, revealing the contradictions that arise when they are treated as possessing ultimate reality. The Mūlamadhyamakakārikā (literally, “The Fundamental Verses on the Middle Way”), one of his most celebrated works, is named so, because he implements the middleway philosophy of Gautama Buddha to its greatest extent.

He argues that while causal language functions at the level of ordinary experience, causation cannot be established as an ultimately real relation. His analysis of causality would become one of the most profound and influential critiques in the history of philosophy. What is special in his view, is that he isn’t trying to refute causality in the same way as Śrī Harṣa or Hume, but he is merely trying to show how causality is just a conventional name given to conditionality of this world.

Nāgārjuna begins his critique by examining whether an effect can arise from itself. Consider the example of a sprout emerging from a seed. If the sprout already exists within the seed, then its production is meaningless, for there is nothing left to be produced. To say that an already existing sprout is being generated would be like claiming that a chair already standing before us is being created anew. On the other hand, if the sprout does not yet exist, then it cannot produce itself, since what is nonexistent possesses no power or activity. A cake that will exist tomorrow cannot bake itself today. Thus, whether the effect is assumed to exist already or not exist at all, self-production proves impossible.

Nāgārjuna next considers the opposite possibility, that an effect is produced by something entirely different from itself. Once again, the example of a seed and a sprout may be taken. If cause and effect are completely distinct and unrelated, then there is no reason why a seed should produce a sprout rather than an elephant, why milk should produce yogurt rather than a tiger, or why fire should produce heat rather than ice. Absolute difference destroys any intelligible connection between a particular cause and a particular effect. If anything can arise from something wholly different, then every effect could arise from every cause, and the regularity observed in the world becomes inexplicable.

This leads Nāgārjuna to a fundamental dilemma. Are cause and effect identical, or are they different? If they are identical, then production becomes meaningless, since nothing new comes into existence; the effect is simply the cause under another name. If they are different, then there is no basis for connecting one with the other, and the occurrence of a specific effect from a specific cause becomes arbitrary. Consequently, neither complete identity nor complete difference succeeds in explaining causation. Nāgārjuna therefore concludes that the ordinary conception of causal production cannot withstand philosophical analysis, for the relation between cause and effect becomes incoherent under either alternative.

A possible response to Nāgārjuna’s dilemma is to argue that cause and effect are neither identical nor different. At first glance, this appears to avoid the difficulties associated with both alternatives. However, Nāgārjuna contends that the position ultimately fails to establish causation. If it is claimed that cause and effect transcend both identity and difference altogether, then one must explain what positive relation remains between them. Simply stating that they are “neither identical nor different” does not by itself provide an intelligible account of causal connection. Unless a distinct relation can be specified, the phrase becomes little more than an empty label.

Alternatively, if the claim means that cause and effect are partly identical and partly different, then identity and difference have merely been combined rather than transcended. Consider the relation between a child and the adult that later emerges. We ordinarily say that the adult is neither exactly the same as nor completely different from the child. Such a description may be useful at the conventional level, but Nāgārjuna asks what ultimately grounds this continuity. If one posits an enduring essence that remains unchanged throughout the transformation, then an intrinsic nature has been assumed, which is in fact not given via any pramāṇas. If no such essence exists, then continuity itself depends entirely upon changing conditions and relations. In either case, the notion of an ultimately real causal connection remains unestablished. So, even the attempt to characterize cause and effect as neither identical nor different fails to provide a satisfactory account of causation.

An example may help illustrate Nāgārjuna’s broader point. A monk once believed that the waxing and waning phases were inherent properties of the moon itself, as though the moon literally gained and lost parts over the course of a month. Later he realized that the moon remains what it is throughout, the changing phases arise from the changing relations among the moon, the sun and the observer on Earth. The phases are not entirely unreal, for they are genuinely experienced and can be accurately described, but neither do they exist as intrinsic features independently residing within the moon. Nāgārjuna argues that causation is similar. Causes and effects appear connected because of a network of dependent conditions and causal language functions perfectly well in ordinary life. Yet when one searches for an independently existing causal bond possessing its own intrinsic nature, none can be found. Just as the phases of the moon are conventionally real while lacking independent existence, causation is a useful concept within saṃvṛti or conventional truth, without constituting an ultimately real metaphysical relation.

Nāgārjuna next examines the common assumption that a cause exists prior to its effect and contains within itself a causal power that later produces the effect. Consider a seed and the sprout that emerges from it. If the causal power residing in the seed is already the sprout itself, then the sprout already exists and production becomes unnecessary. Nothing genuinely new has arisen. On the other hand, if the causal power is not the sprout, merely labeling it a hidden power does not explain how the sprout is produced. One has simply renamed the problem rather than solved it. To say that the seed produces the sprout because it possesses a causal power is ultimately no different from saying that it produces the sprout because it can produce the sprout. Thus, Nāgārjuna argues that no intrinsically existing causal force can be identified within the cause itself.

He then considers whether cause and effect might exist simultaneously. If the seed and the sprout exist at exactly the same moment, however, neither can be said to produce the other, since production ordinarily requires one thing to bring another into existence. Similarly, if a flame already exists, it is meaningless to say that the lit candle is producing it at that very moment. The notion of production presupposes a distinction between what produces and what is produced. When both are simultaneous, that distinction collapses. Consequently, simultaneity leaves no room for genuine causal production.

The opposite possibility is that the cause arises after the effect. Yet this alternative appears even less plausible. If the sprout already exists and only afterward the seed becomes its cause, then the effect would already be present before its supposed producer. A cause that comes later cannot explain the existence of something that is already there. Just as a builder cannot construct a house that has already been completed, a later cause cannot produce an already existing effect. Nāgārjuna therefore rejects causal priority, simultaneity, and posteriority alike as ultimately incoherent accounts of production.

A deeper difficulty arises when one examines the concepts of cause and effect themselves. A thing is identified as a cause only in relation to its effect, and an effect is identified as an effect only in relation to its cause. Consider a matchstick and a fire. The matchstick is called a cause only because a fire subsequently occurs, while the fire is called an effect only because it is connected to the matchstick. Remove the effect, and the cause loses its status as a cause; remove the cause, and the effect loses its status as an effect. The identity of each therefore depends upon the other. Nāgārjuna argues that this mutual dependence reveals the absence of any independent intrinsic nature (svabhāva) in either cause or effect.

For example, let us consider that Viśvāmitra and Rāma are in the relationship of a teacher and a student. Viśvāmitra is a teacher only in relation to Rāma and Rāma is a student only in relation to Viśvāmitra. Remove one and the other is no longer the teacher, remove the other and the one is no longer the student. Neither role exists independently of the relationship. Nāgārjuna suggests that cause and effect function in much the same way. They are relational concepts whose meaning depends upon one another rather than independently existing realities possessing self-sufficient essences.

It is important, however, not to misunderstand Nāgārjuna’s conclusion. He is not denying that seeds produce sprouts, that fire burns, or that medicine heals within ordinary experience. Such facts remain perfectly valid within conventional life. What he rejects is the stronger metaphysical claim that there exists an independently existing causal power inherently connecting one thing to another. Causation functions successfully as a conventional concept, enabling ordinary discourse and practical activity. Yet when subjected to ultimate philosophical analysis, no intrinsically real causal relation can be discovered. Therefore, Nāgārjuna says that causation belongs to the domain of conventional truth, while ultimate analysis reveals only dependent origination devoid of independent essence.

What can we be certain of:

Having examined powerful critiques of causation, induction and metaphysical necessity, a natural question arises, i.e. is there anything of which we can be absolutely certain? If causal relations, external objects and many philosophical categories become doubtful under rigorous analysis, does any indubitable knowledge remain?

Theory of Svaprakāśa

For Śrī Harṣa, the one thing that remains untouched by his relentless criticism is his theory of self-luminous consciousness (svaprakāśavāda). He systematically challenges philosophical definitions, categories and theories when they are presented as ultimately real, but he does not deny the immediate self-revelation of awareness itself. Consciousness does not require another cognition to illuminate it, it reveals itself in the very act of revealing other things. Whenever a cognition occurs, its presence is immediately known. A person may be mistaken about the cause of a pain, the object perceived, or the interpretation of an experience, but cannot doubt that the experience itself is occurring. Seeing is immediately known, thinking is immediately known, and even doubting is immediately known. The certainty therefore lies not in the objects of awareness but in the fact of awareness itself. Thus, while concepts such as causation, substance, universals, and philosophical definitions may fail to withstand ultimate scrutiny, the presence of consciousness remains indubitable.

Res Cogitans

A remarkably similar search for certainty appears in the philosophy of the French thinker Descartes. He begins by subjecting all of his beliefs to methodical doubt. He questions the reliability of the senses, considers the possibility that life may be a dream and even imagines a powerful deceiver capable of misleading him about mathematics and logic. Yet in the midst of this radical skepticism, he discovers one proposition that cannot be doubted, Cogito, ergo sum i.e. “I think, therefore, I am”. Whenever he doubts, denies, imagines, or reasons, there must exist a subject performing those acts. Even an all-powerful deceiver could not deceive a being that did not exist. The certainty therefore lies in the existence of the thinking subject while thought is occurring. Unlike Śrī Harṣa, however, Descartes goes further and concludes that there exists a substantial thinking self, a res cogitans, underlying these acts of consciousness.

Three Principles of Logic

Apart from consciousness, many philosophers have regarded certain principles of logic as indubitable. Classical reasoning rests upon three fundamental laws. The Law of Identity states that a thing is identical with itself, a triangle is a triangle and a proposition is what it is. The Law of Non-Contradiction states that something cannot both be and not be in the same respect and at the same time. A door cannot be completely open and completely closed in the same respect simultaneously. The Law of Excluded Middle states that, in classical logic, a proposition must either be true or false, either it is raining now or it is not raining now. These principles are regarded as self-evident because any attempt to deny them appears to presuppose them. To argue against contradiction, truth, or identity is already to employ distinctions that rely upon those very principles.

Pure Mathematics

Mathematics has likewise been regarded by many philosophers as a paradigm of certainty. Statements such as “2 + 2 = 4”, “A triangle has three sides”, or “If A equals B and B equals C, then A equals C” seem to possess a necessity and universality not found in empirical claims about the world. Their truth does not appear to depend upon observation and their denial leads to contradiction. For this reason, rationalist philosophers often regarded mathematics as the clearest example of certain knowledge. Nevertheless, philosophers have differed regarding the source of this certainty. Descartes viewed mathematical truths as clear and distinct ideas ultimately guaranteed by God. Kant argued that mathematics consists of synthetic a priori judgments grounded in the forms of intuition, namely space and time. Modern logicians and formalists have proposed still different explanations. Despite these disagreements, mathematics has long occupied a privileged position as one of the strongest candidates for genuinely certain knowledge.

Although philosophers have cast doubt upon causation, induction, external objects, and many metaphysical theories, they have often found firmer ground in consciousness, logical principles, and mathematics. Whether these foundations are themselves ultimately secure remains a matter of debate, but they represent some of the most enduring answers to the philosophical search for certainty.

Karl Popper

Karl Popper, one of the most influential philosophers of the 20th century, especially in the philosophy of science, political philosophy and epistemology, in his The Logic of Scientific Discovery, says:

The empirical basis of objective science has thus nothing 'absolute' about it. Science does not rest upon solid bedrock. The bold structure of its theories rises, as it were, above a swamp. It is like a building erected on piles. The piles are driven down from above into the swamp, but not down to any natural or 'given' base; and if we stop driving the piles deeper, it is not because we have reached firm ground. We simply stop when we are satisfied that the piles are firm enough to carry the structure, at least for the time being.

According to Popper, science does not begin with neutral observation. Scientists do not simply accumulate facts until a theory somehow emerges from them. Every observation is already guided by questions, expectations, interests, and prior assumptions. When a scientist looks at the world, he does not observe everything indiscriminately; he observes certain things because he is seeking answers to specific problems. Isaac Newton, for example, did not merely watch apples fall until the law of gravitation revealed itself. He proposed explanatory ideas and then compared them against observation and calculation. Science therefore proceeds through a pattern of problem, conjecture and test, rather than through simple observation followed by generalization.

For this reason, Popper described scientific theories as conjectures. A scientific theory is a bold explanatory proposal that attempts to account for observed phenomena. Theories such as universal gravitation, the constancy of the speed of light, and biological evolution by natural selection are not logically derived from observations. Rather, they are imaginative hypotheses proposed to explain the world. Observation plays an important role, but its role is to test theories rather than generate them. Scientific creativity lies in the formulation of explanatory conjectures, empirical investigation determines whether those conjectures can survive scrutiny.

This understanding led Popper to his most famous doctrine of falsification. Traditional accounts of science often assume that theories become established through verification. Popper argued that verification of universal laws is impossible. No matter how many white swans a person observes, the statement “All swans are white” remains vulnerable to a single counterexample. The discovery of one black swan would be sufficient to refute it. Consequently, while universal theories can never be conclusively verified, they can be falsified. Scientific progress therefore depends not upon accumulating confirmations but upon exposing theories to severe tests that might reveal them to be false.

From this insight, Popper developed a criterion for distinguishing science from pseudoscience. A theory is scientific only if it is falsifiable, meaning that it makes predictions capable of being tested and potentially disproved. The claim that water boils at approximately 100°C under standard atmospheric pressure is scientific because experiments could reveal circumstances in which it fails. By contrast, a theory that invokes an invisible force which constantly alters itself to avoid detection cannot be tested in any conceivable way. Since no possible observation could count against it, it falls outside the domain of science. For Popper, the defining feature of scientific theories is not certainty or truth but testability.

So, causality assumes a more modest role than it possessed in many earlier philosophical systems. Popper did not regard causal relations as metaphysical necessities directly revealed in nature. Instead, science formulates causal hypotheses that organize observations and generate predictions. Consider the claim that smoking causes lung cancer. Scientists do not directly observe a mysterious causal power linking smoking and cancer. Rather, the hypothesis is accepted because it explains a vast range of observations, successfully predicts new findings, survives repeated critical examination, and remains open to revision should contrary evidence emerge. Causal explanations therefore function as scientific hypotheses rather than as absolutely established truths.

Popper’s philosophy is that no scientific law is ever finally proven. Every theory remains provisional and subject to revision. The history of science provides many illustrations. Newtonian mechanics explained planetary motion and terrestrial physics with extraordinary success for centuries. Yet Einstein later demonstrated that Newton’s laws break down under conditions involving extremely high velocities or intense gravitational fields. Newton’s theory was not irrational or useless, it was simply incomplete. Scientific progress occurs not because theories are proven beyond doubt, but because more comprehensive theories replace less adequate ones.

So, in his opinion, science is a continuous process of error correction. Scientists identify problems, propose explanatory hypotheses, derive predictions from those hypotheses and then attempt to refute them through observation and experiment. Theories that fail are rejected or modified, while those that survive remain provisionally accepted. Knowledge grows not through the accumulation of certainties but through the elimination of mistakes. In this sense, science is a self-correcting enterprise rather than a quest for indubitable foundations.

The Problem with Popper

The preference for theories that have survived repeated testing appears to involve a subtle appeal to the future resembling the past. A theory that has withstood numerous attempts at refutation is regarded as more trustworthy than one that has not. Yet, why should past survival provide any reason to expect future success? To answer that it has survived previous tests merely describes its history; it does not logically establish that it will continue to survive future tests. The shadow of induction therefore seems to remain.

A similar difficulty arises with falsification itself. An observation can count against a theory only if the observation is accepted as reliable and if the background assumptions used in conducting the experiment are themselves trusted. Yet these assumptions are never tested in isolation. When a prediction fails, it is often unclear whether the theory is false, whether an auxiliary hypothesis is mistaken, whether the measuring instrument malfunctioned, or whether some other factor interfered. Consequently, refutation is rarely as straightforward as Popper’s model suggests. Scientific practice frequently involves judgments about which assumptions to retain and which to abandon which itself depends on induction.

From a deeper philosophical perspective, Popper also leaves untouched the question that concerned both Harṣa and thinkers such as Russell and Hume, what justifies the belief that there are genuine causal connections in nature at all? Popper treats causal explanations as useful hypotheses that generate predictions, but usefulness does not establish metaphysical reality. A theory may successfully predict events without revealing any ultimately real causal necessity underlying them. At most, the theory describes stable regularities and survives empirical testing.

If science is our most successful method of understanding the world, yet its deepest assumptions remain philosophically unproven, what distinguishes rational trust in science from blind acceptance of authority?

The Papacy never died, for it never existed within the Pope. It lived within the herd, who walked the path not because they knew where it led, but because the Shepherd walked before them.

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If one thing is certain about life, it is that it consists of a perpetual pursuit of something greater, a constant dynamic of movements and struggle or strivement. Whence this ceases life too comes to a halt.

This can be witnessed in its most undeniable form during a living being’s infancy, where it learns, interacts with others, and through its industry, attains recognition in life. When the time eventually comes, it slowly succumbs to the decay of time, marked by the absence of such effulgence and the outward expansion of will and energy.

Politics is no different. Modern conservative politics is a testament to the decline of active politics and the denigration of political ideals in their purest form.

If one thinks with more attention and reason, they realize that the modern conservative wing doesn’t conserve anything at all. A modern conservative is simply a leftist from a few decades ago. Whereas the nemesis of higher culture and existence thrive upon the dismemberment of such things, their supposed counter-balance i.e. conservatives or right-wing politics have no straight ideals, no absolutes, and no will to action.

All they can do is miserably respond to new offenses by the Left. If you are constantly on the backfoot, compelled to pathetic, half-spirited rejoinders, that says a lot about your perceived strength.

Whereas our enemies have viciously pursued their objectives in whether it is their Long March Through Institutions, or infiltrating the very narratives of the society their perceptions and such, or through the “culture” of that society, we have been on a seamless streak of losing, and the core reason, among many others, is that we have relinquished our prerogatives out to these hyenas who pretend to be “right wingers” or such. Thus, due to their cowardly timidness we have seen continuous capitulations of our sides, a series of never-ending retreat, a race to oblivion.

True adherents of Tradition (with a capital T) must resolve to remain steadfastly committed to its precepts: God, Scripture, Natural Hierarchy, and Higher Values & Virtues. These are not discrete but inextricably intertwined and non-negotiable in compromise with each other.

Instead of a slow but assured decline. It is imperative for you to be more absolute, more defined, and more rooted. Most importantly, you must be driven by a structure of actual meaning instead of obfuscation and fleeting promises.

And this will not be achieved by the mandate of the masses, or in the profligate clown show often called Democracy. “Just vote for the same Centre-Left party, surely there will be some change.” Nothing ever happens. A person who has realised how futile modern equivocations in the name of politics are, that through what is known to be “legitimate ways of politics” are meant to keep the people dependent and subservient to the status-quo, at that moment he comes to the epiphany that he would require something more, something personal to transcend the constraints of politics, which is nothing but a solid block of dead weight.

You must realize that democracy is simply communism with no affiliation to freedom or rights whatsoever. Democracy perpetuates the idea that all people can be equally competent in their faculties to be let have a deliberation either through direct or indirect means through voting et cetera, and it actualises the goal of a society based on power distribution to everyone, where forth everyone in having empowerment in choosing the government, nobody actually possesses the real power. It is an elusive façade for the malleable and delinquent masses to be fooled into believing it is the most moral form of governance.

The consumer’s ability to discern is suffocated, and those who speak against the status quo are ostracized and vilified to the point of utter contemptuous revulsion.

But do not make the error of being complete idealists or daydreamers lost in the euphoria of anemoia, longing for a past that won’t return. The reactionary spirit of going back to the once glorious past, is antiquarian in orientation, but that orientation should not be conflated with a course of action that would merely replicate the past, no matter how beautiful it was.

Thus, it is imperative for Reactionaries to be relevant to current circumstances and to be the better alternative everywhere the sun shines. There should be no field beyond the reach of the Reactionary hand.

Throughout this, the threat posed by the dissenters, by the degenerates and fallen should be treated with extreme vigilance, not only at the level of communities of the inner circles, but in macroscopic level as well, intolerance is not a sin, for it is obligatory on the part of the virtuous.

The modern world is infested with ailments. Reactionarism, which aligns with the healthy human soul, longs for a community and something meaningful to serve. For that admission, ideology and conduct are the only fees. Thus, unlike the fragile Conservative, the Reactionary cannot have a community and divided loyalties at the same time. We live on the idea that every individual is unique, a sort of particularism, however unlike the Universal Individualism of the Left - the idea that all individuals are somewhat same or can be altered under the “right conditions” -, we reject such individualism, we hold that every individual has a duty to corporate in the wider setting of the world with his own individuality within the Friend-Enemy distinction, as Schmitt would put it. Through this public morality is actualised in a relative and practical manner. The individual excellence harnessed by the liberty that is availed to him, is a result of his group/class/caste et cetera’s health. The atomised search of well-being must be dealt away with, if the health of society is to be preserved.

A reactionary thus stands in between a wall and a well. On one hand stands his arch-nemesis in the form of the anti-life ideological coalition of what is termed as ‘Leftism’. These are people who are opposed to the very way of life, to the hierarchy, to the beauty, they are a rebellion against nature, and thus its creator as well, for as long as they live they will thrive on de-construction of what has sustained, and lead to the proliferation of the humans since the dawn of time itself, thus the differences are irreconcilable. On the other hand is a thinking which may appeal to the naive mind, as something which belongs to their own i.e. The current Right Wing, but they are equally decadent, and devoid of the Traditional spirit of vitality and divinity. The reason, among others, that the “Right Wing” and their proponents fail to placate the hearts and minds of people, especially the younger generation, as the reality is that even the Traditional Right Wingers struggle to get a foothold within the modern generation. The reason I hold is again what constituents the underlying theme of this essay, which is Vitality, they (modern right wing) only appeals to the exteriorities of what comprises the vision of a society – as viewed by the right wing ideologues – of strong family units, traditional gender roles, et cetera, but they abandon the vital force that makes these possible at the first place which is the celebration of life itself, in its non-sensitised form.

Today they tell to the ladies, as a response to the waves of Feminism, to be good wives, mothers, embrace their domestic duties, and such, but until and unless they are not in correspondence to the actual spirit of Femininity and inner Maternal Instincts which is naturally there in disposition within women, the message would carry only a bland slop devoid of any fulfilling vital force. To the men, they tell them to embrace masculinity, organise families, earn et cetera, but again they abscond what makes men venture for the said activities. When the message is not supported with higher principles and a direction to strive for, what you get is the modern cheap knock-off brand in the name of masculinity which is to say the least, Godless, vain and a force which generates nothing of consequence.

Morality of men or women does not emerge from morality itself, it is born out from vitality, from strength. Vitality, the word coming from the root Virae/Vis which roughly translates to life, power, and force, or the word Virtue which comes from the root Vir meaning courage or manly traits. You cannot leave out the raw primordial nature of men, as well as women, which is dynamic and forceful, and make them sensitised or docile. Strong morality has to be conceived and materialised with the ethos or virtues which are in direct alignment to the nature of life, and not in its restraint. The leftists win over the right wingers despite being completely ‘anti-nature’ and standing for everything that is counterthesis to life itself, simply because they explicitly are a moving, dynamic force in their initial phase, which seeks to upend the current setting through cultivation and channelisation of the life forces, and on the other hand stands a system (of the right wingers) which becomes stagnant and devoid of any vital forces to successfully counter the opposing force.

In their affirmation of innate natural human instincts, you should have a reverence for the nature as well, nature in physical forms such as the rivers, the mountains, the rolling grasslands, ponds, the flora & fauna, et cetera, for they are not just “resources”, they have a complementary existence to the human beings as well, it is in the groves that many divine beings reside, and on its destruction they show their wrath upon those who wronged them. Here we see another failure of the conservatives show its ugly face, and that is the loss of a deeper connection with nature. In the words of Ted Kaczynski :

The conservatives are fools: They whine about the decay of traditional values, yet they enthusiastically support technological progress and economic growth. Apparently it never occurs to them that you can’t make rapid, drastic changes in the technology and the economy of a society without causing rapid changes in all other aspects of the society as well, and that such rapid changes inevitably break down traditional values.

Nature is not something that is something “out there” external to our existence, rather on the contrary we, the humans, are its extension, our blooming existence can only be, when we are in harmony with our own inner nature, as well as the external nature. However, due to inexorability of technological progress we cannot sleep on what is inevitable, if anything that is ought to be, or can be, is that technology has to be tolerated, and reduced to the elements which are at peripheries of the ‘essential’ spiritual, physical, and mental domains of human living, though this is a topic for another day, and requires more nuance.

Thus, conservatives in order to redeem themselves should retrieve the issue of environmental conservation, biodiversity, wildlife habitat preservation, et cetera, which due to their own inaction has been claimed by the Left. A Traditional living cannot be imagined, let alone thrive, in absence of an untainted nature, therefore its conservation, as well its integration within ourselves has to be an imperative, if one wishes to be pure and unadulterated by the forces of evil.

The higher vision of life thus emerges in affirmation to the inner Self, not in the repression of our inherited violent and lustful instincts, but in their transmutation towards the higher aspect of living, which is our vitality, our will to expand, to subjugate the elements impeding the growth of the ourselves, to venture outwards in the Faustian Spirit whilst still being satiated inwardly, thereby balancing the relentless pursuit of the profane as well as keeping the soul intact. Another aspect which is crucial to the Traditional way of living is the pervasiveness of rituals, to the Traditional mind everything has a ritualistic connotation, from his awakening in the dawn, to his bathing, washroom activities, the food he cooks and eats, from dawn to dusk his whole living is profusely ritualistic, connecting the metaphysical existence to the empirical, drawing in the transcendental to the temporal. If you discard your rituals and customs, in that instance you divorce any legitimacy you derive from a tradition. The purely empirical, the inference and reasoning induced from observations, and the limited faculty of mind find their non-utility in rituals, for their outcomes can be known only through experience as posited by their sources (scriptures, etc.).

So, what is the end goal of all this ? To it we answer, that the aim of the True Right is to restrain the withering away of Traditions due the perpetual tides of spatialist, low-conscientiousness forms of orientation, to guard the long held customs which have safeguarded the community, and are not just extensions of the group, but rather the individuals are the biological extension of the transcendental ideas and institutions, which makes the prerogative to protect even more significant. It is an affirmation to the cruelties that are an essential part of being alive, and even beyond it, with the synonym of life itself which is vitality, of the Gods, of the ancestors, and of the community which we our obligations to - and who in return also ensure reciprocation. Conservatives have to let go of their stagnation and dire state of anarchy, and embrace the real Principles who will lead to the state of harmony with the self, and of the society, which will lead from the darkness of ignorance to the sun of enlightenment.

The left-wing and pseudo right-wing camps such as RSS have made this an unquestionable fact that the wicked Brahmins oppressed śūdras and never let them study and had education reserved only for their own class. However, on an honest study of the śāstras and history, we find that reality is miles away.

Looking at śāstras first, our eyes go to the “Śūdradharmatattvaprakāśa” (Enlightener on the Dharma of the Śūdra) of Śrī Kamalākarabhaṭṭa (कमलाकरभट्ट) of Kāśī. In this monumental work, this rite of passage can clearly be seen described when the ācārya clearly states— “atha vidyārambhaḥ” (now we describe the vidyārambha rite for the Śūdra) in the second prakaraṇa; this clarifies that the scriptures describe vidyārambha and hence education as a mandatory rite of passage for the Śūdra, after which his formal education in his father’s craft, grammar, logic, astronomy, astrology, medicine etc. could begin.

Thus the scriptures and ācāryas are clear regarding this topic. But one may ask, if it was so, can you name some famous śūdra scholars? Indeed. From a never-ending list, we present you seven key examples.

1. Vidura (विदुर) : An important figure in the Mahābhārata, advisor to the throne of Hastināpura, born of a śūdrā through niyoga, hence a śūdra. He is often seen throughout the epic advising different characters and giving discourses on many topics such as politics, economics, ethics etc. His Famous work being the Viduranīti, comprising chapters 33-40 of the Udyogaparva of Mahābhārata.

2. Dharmavyādha (धर्मव्याध) : A hunter by jāti, steadfast in his dharma and a great scholar. Topics covered are Karma, ethics, Duty, service etc. Compiled under the Vyādhagītā, part of the Vanaparva.

3. Komaṭi Vema (कोमटि वेम) : A 14th century king, and a commentator on the Amarukaśataka, who wrote a commentary named “śriṅgāradīpikā”. He was from the Reddy clan and proudly proclaimed his śūdra origin in his many inscriptions.1

4. Tejaḥsiṁha (तेजःसिंह) : A 14th Century writer of a text named “Daivajñālaṅkr̥tiḥ”. He calls himself “śūdrasyāṅgobhavaḥ” (born in a śūdra clan/from a śūdra father) in his verse enumerated in a descriptive catalogue of sanskrit manuscripts.2 Another Samarasiṁha from his clan has authored a Jyotiṣa text named “Tājikatantrasāra”.

5. Śubharāja (शुभराज) : He was a 15th century Nepali poet, his 2 works are presently available viz. “Pāṇḍavavijaya” and “Rūpamañjaripariṇaya”. In the beginning of the former, he says “asti śūdrānvaye jāto bhayarājakavīśvaraḥ tatputraśśubharājo sau tenedaṁ racitaṁ śubham” i.e. In the śūdra caste, there has been a lord amongst poets named Bhayarāja, this auspicious text is being written by his son Śubharāja.

6. Śaṅkarapāraśava (शंकरपारशव) : He was a scholar of Mathematics and Jyotiṣa from southern India who walked around 15th-16th century. Texts authored by him are— “Kriyākramakarī” commentary on Bhāskarācārya’s Līlāvatī, as well as “Kriyākālāpa” and “Laghuvivr̥tti” commentaries on Nīlakaṇṭhasomayājin’s Tantrasaṁgraha. This Pāraśava surname is counted under the Vāriyar caste of Kerala who are sat-śūdras. He also says that he was a servant at a temple in “Kriyākramakarī”.

7. Acyutapiśāratī (अच्युतपिशारती) : He was a 15th-16th century polymath of many topics, such as Mathematics, Grammar, Jyotiṣa, etc. hailing from southern India. One of his texts is called “Rāśigolasphuṭānīti”, which is published by K.V. Sharma, who in the foreword of this very text he enumerates other texts authored by acyuta, such as— “Praveśaka” (Vyākaraṇa), “Sphuṭanirṇayatantra” (Jyotiṣa), Chāyāṣṭaka, Karaṇottama etc. He was also the Mathematics teacher of the Brāhmaṇa scholar, and writer of the Nārāyaṇīyam, named Nārāyaṇabhaṭṭatiri.

We also have statistical evidences at hand for modern times, the most profound being Dharampal’s the Beautiful Tree, which is well known among intellectual circles.

Thomas Carlyle, in his collection of lectures dubbed as Heroes, Hero Worship, and Heroic in History, says:

For as I take it, Universal History, the history of what man has accomplished in this world, is at bottom the history of the Great Men who have worked here.
They were the leaders of men, these great ones; the modellers, patterns and in a wide sense creators of whatsoever the general mass of men contrived to do or attain; all things that we see standing accomplished in the world are properly the outer material result, the practical realisation and embodiment, of Thoughts that dwelt in the Great Men sent into the world; the soul of the whole world’s history, it may justly be considered, were the history of these (great men).

If mulled upon, this statement is strikingly similar to the view of history held in traditional societies such as India.

The Itihāsa-Purāṇas corpus, for example, are clearly biographies, genealogies, and descriptions not of societies but primarily of heroic figures such as Rāma, Kṛṣṇa, Prahlāda, Dhruva, Arjuna, Yuddhiṣṭhira, among many others. But, as we all know, these events and figures are often dismissed by the lay crowd as mere “imaginary ramblings of poets and priests”; owing to topics described in them not fitting the modern scientific worldview and leads to statements such as—

It is, I believe, no exaggeration to say that all the historical information that has been collected to form all the books written in the Sanskrit language is less valuable than what may be found in the most paltry abridgements used at preparatory schools in England... The question before us is merely…. when we can patronize ... sound history, (or) we shall countenance, at the public expense, ... history, abounding with kings thirty feet high, and reigns thirty thousand years long – and geography, made up of seas of treacle and butter.

-Thomas Babington Macaulay, (cited in Keay, John, 1981, India Discovered. London: Collins, 1988: p. 77)

But let us think for once; If empirical historians such as Thucydides (~400 BCE) and Polybius (~200 BCE) could appear in Greece, which was also a society abundant with “myths”, and write “true” history, then why couldn’t Vyāsa, Vālmīki or any other Indian chronicler write it?

Indeed we should have seen figures emerge who figured all these fancy descriptions of thousand year reigns of rulers, oceans of milk, and men with multiple arms were all just ramblings of poets and priests. However, we didn’t; hence, we must first look deep into Itihāsa and Purāṇa among other Hindu scriptures alongside the likes of Greek and Roman literature, which also contain histories; that too primarily of heroic men.

Here we encounter the mīmāṁsaka (hermeneutic) concept of arthavāda.

Sentences having their purpose in praise or censure of injunctive (vidhi) or prohibitive (niṣedha) sentences, and not in their primarily expressed meaning, owing to that leading to meaninglessness. (स्वार्थमात्रपरत्वे आनर्थक्यप्रसङ्गात्।) are called arthavādas.
These arthavādas have been divided into 4 categories by mīmāṁsakas such as Kumārila Bhaṭṭa; with them being nindā (censure, for example— “It is no sacrifice where the chhandas are not sung”), stuti (praise, for example— “Vāyu is the fastest among the devatās”), parakr̥ti (action done by great ones, for example— “the wise ones discuss the inclusion or exclusion of a day”) and purākalpa (actions done by great ones in a bygone age, eg.— “Rāma killed Vāli”).

Herein, we must first understand what is the purpose of arthavāda, and for that we must discuss what is the nature of the material being praised and censured, which is Vedic in nature.

The Veda is the root of Dharma, the very life energy of India. It be said that Everything good that Bhārata has given to the world is because of the followers of the Veda. Every thinker born in this land has always had something to say about Dharma, and most of the time, Dharma was the topic of discussion he spent most of his words on.

Now, what is Dharma? As is said before, it has something to do with the Veda.

Transl.: That which is ordained in the Veda is Dharma and the opposite of that is Adharma.

Hence, it is clear that for the Hindu at least, Vedic injunctions are sources of Dharma. The Arthavāda sentences hence, are for praise of things enjoined and censure of things prohibited in the Vedas. The stories hence become shadows of the faith they symbolize, as is said by Carlyle—

To get beautiful allegories, a perfect poetic symbol, was not the want of men; but to know what they were to believe about this universe, what course they were to steer in it; what, in this mysterious Life of theirs, they had to hope and to fear, to do and to forbear doing… The faith had to already be there, standing believed by everybody;— of which the allegory could then become a shadow…The allegory is the product of the certainty, not the producer of it...
-Thomas Carlyle; Heroes, Hero worship, and the Heroic in history.

Kumārila Bhaṭṭa too recognizes this in his Tantravārtika.

We understand the different viewpoint regarding history as is held in Indic traditions when compared to the modern understanding of history. We see Itihāsa not just as grey historical accounts of happenings in the past as History is seen today. In the words of Dr. S.N. Balagangadhara— Mahabharata does not describe war but merely identifies it as a reference point for what requires saying. This is evident from the very definition of Itihāsa given in the Vācaspatyam—

Hence, we understand that the truth of the Itihāsa-Purāṇa literature is not in its historical factuality, which is irrelevant, but in the doctrine which is preached.

As we have discussed the importance of Heroes and their lives in Hindu tradition, we shall approach the second part of this essay; i.e. Rāmāyaṇa.

Why is the Rāmāyaṇa so important to heroic literature in India?

Regarding this, Triyambakarāya Mākhin, in his Dharmakūtam commentary on the Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa says—

ननु देवपितृब्रह्मर्षिराजर्षियदैत्यनागसुपर्णादिषु महाप्रभावशालिष्वस्थितेषु श्रीराम एव किमर्थं प्रतिपादित इति चेत्; तैस्तैर्वसिष्ठविश्वामित्रादिभिः स्वकीयसामर्थ्यानुगुणतया धर्मव्यतिक्रमः कृतः। तथा चापस्तम्बाचार्याः - ‘दृष्टो धर्मव्यतिक्रमः साहसं च पूर्वेषाम्, तेषां तेजोविशेषेण प्रत्यवायो न विद्यते, तदन्वीक्ष्य प्रयुञ्जानः सीदत्यवरः’ इति। अतस्तेषां सवोऽप्याचारो धर्मत्वेन न ग्राह्यः। श्रीरामस्वामी तु सामर्थ्ययुक्तोऽपिक्लेशमनुभवन्धर्मव्यतिक्रममकृत्वैव धर्मानुगुणतयानुष्ठानं कृतवान्। तथैव अन्येनापि बलवता धर्मव्यतिक्रमो न कर्तव्यः।
-Dharmakūtam on Vālmīkīyarāmāyaṇa 1.1.8

Transl.:- One may think, that between the countless Devatās, Pitr̥s, Brahmarṣis, Rājarṣis, Daityas, Nāgas, Sarpas etc., who were of great influence and power; why is Śrī Rāma the one narrated about in this text? To this we reply— Because by the likes of Vasiṣṭha, Viśvāmitra etc. transgression of Dharma owing to their spiritual strength has been done (such as the anger infused curse to the well behaved and dedicated disciple named Pr̥ṣadhra given by Vasiṣṭha and the performance of sacrifice for a now Cāṇḍala Triśaṅku by Viśvāmitra). Regarding this Āpastamba says— “The seen transgression of Dharma done in the past (by the likes of Paraśurāma, Visvāmitra, Vasiṣṭha etc.) doesn’t lead to any ill effect for the performers, owing to their unparalleled spiritual brilliance. However , when a regular human performs such actions, they face sorrow.” Hence the actions performed by every single great one is not acceptable as Dharma. However, lord Śrī Rāma, even after being more than capable, and facing immense sorrow, not even once transgressed Dharma and on the other hand always practiced it. Thus, Dharma shall not be transgressed by anyone (such is the purpose of Śrī Rāma being chosen as the protagonist of the epic).

Śrī Rāma being Dharma personified is also known from countless verses in the Rāmāyaṇa.

The appearance of the Lord’s incarnations too is said to be for the very purpose of establishing Dharma.

But, one may argue, if the lord is all powerful, why does he have to come between men to establish Dharma? Can’t he do that merely with merely his will? To that we answer, the primary purpose of the incarnation of the lord is to be understood as something else, that being the establishment of the science of devotion (Bhaktiyoga).

As for the devotee who wishes to love his lord as he loves his mother, father, brother, sister, lover, friend etc., the omnipresent, omnipotent, supreme lord takes many forms such as Śiva, Kr̥ṣṇa, Rāma, Nārāyaṇa, Devī, Gaṇeśa, Skanda etc. as a faucet of his infinite kindness so that the devotees could see his glory and love in practice and see him as they wish to.

This, however poses another question, if God accommodates all kinds of devotional relationships, does that not sideline Dharma and defeat the point of highlighting heroic/Dharmic ideals? This is no problem however, owing to sentences such as Vādhūlasmr̥ti (189), which say that the Śruti (Veda) and Smr̥ti are my (Īśvara’s) orders, and he who transgresses them is a traitor and hence can never be my devotee.

Even Nārada, one of the greatest devotees of the lord says in his Bhaktisūtra—

If someone loves someone else, then it is natural that the lover should do what is agreeable to the loved. Say, you are massaging the feet of your mother, whom you love, and she asks for water as she is thirsty, and you ignore her and continue massaging her feet; can this be called devotion?

Indeed, performance of the will of your lord is true devotion, and if the will of the lord is Dharma, then each true Bhakta is a true Dhārmika too. If one doesn’t follow Dharma properly, then he surely falls from the path of devotion, as his ignorance of his lord’s orders leads the lord to retreat from him. Doing prohibited acts such as drinking alcohol, illicit relationships etc. and not performing enjoined acts such as charity, worship, scripture reading etc. will always lead to failure in the path of devotion.

Regarding the unity of wills between the lord and servant, a point which flows into the paramountcy of Śrī Rāma in Hindu literature is regarding him being a King. Regarding the Heroic King, Carlyle very aptly says—

The commander over Men, he to whose our wills are to be subordinated, and loyally surrender themselves, and find their welfare in doing so, may be reckoned the most important of Great Men.

Hence both devotion, and servitude both blend beautifully in service to Lord Rāma. Carlyle further says—

He is practically the summary for us of all the various figures of heroism; priest, teacher, whatsoever of earthly or of spiritual dignity we can fancy to reside in a man, embodies itself here, to command over us, to furnish us with constant practical teaching, to tell us for the day and hour what we are to do.

Indeed, our Śāstras too declare—

Meaning: All the deities are invisible; the king is the only visible deity, whose favour and disfavour bring about visible results. The king is the father, the mother and also the family of all those of noble families; the king is Truth and Deity; and the king is the great benefactor of the people. Let there be no doubt as to whether the king is the regulator of time or time is the regulator of the king; for it is the king who regulates time. O King! In this world, the virtue of men is guarded by the king; it is only through fear of the king that people do not devour each other.

Indeed, Rāmarājya is seen as the ideal kingdom, Rāma is seen as the ideal Man (maryādā puruṣottama), Rāma’s caritra is seen as the ideal caritra (character).
Rāmarājya is described in the following way by Vālmīki in the final sarga of Yuddhakāṇḍa.

During the rule of Rāma, there were no lamentations by widows, no danger from wild animals, no fear of disease, no dasyus (theives, crooks, duṣṭas), misfortunes didn’t touch anyone, the aged didn’t have to perform funerals (owing to no premature deaths). All were happy, were ardent followers of Dharma, and, always seeing Rāma, never performed acts of violence upon each other.

As Rāma ruled for thousands of years, the subjects were blessed with thousands of sons, without sorrow and trouble.

While Rāma ruled, all was Rāma! Rāma! And Rama! People told stories of Rāma and the entire world was engrossed in Rāma.

Trees were endowed with flowers and fruits at the right times, rain occurred when required (by farmers etc.), the wind was delightful to the touch.
Brāhmaṇas, Kṣatriyas, Vaiśyas, and Śūdras were engaged in their duties, being satisfied and free from malice. The subjects were endowed with Dharma, never told lies, were bestowed with all the good signs, and were always steadfast in their Dharma.

This passage sets the gold standard for all Rājans. The majority of this passage is emphasising on the duties of a regular King towards his subjects, such as preventing violence, disease, in-stability etc. But one idea stands aside from all, it is that idea which separates a Hindu system of governance from others. It is also said that the subjects only saw Rāma. What does this mean? Bhagavāna himself says in the Bhagavadgītā:

Owing to seeing Rāma everywhere, and everything in Rāma, the subjects followed ahiṁsā and never harmed each other. Rāma, Rāma, Rāma, this was always the subject of their kathās (stories, discussions etc.), leading to the entire jagat resounding with Rāma. This is not a kingly cult of personality, as is said further in the same chapter—

The purpose of Kingship in Indic tradition is not mere prevention of anarchy, but the ensurement of caturvidhapuruṣārthas with mokṣa at their helm to be accessible to all.
And, who is better to represent this ideal than the very object of Mokṣaśāstra?

The Yogavāsiṣṭha, Rāmatāpanīyopaniṣat, Rāmagītā, among many other texts reveal Śrī Rāma’s esoteric side, which ties in beautifully with the representation of the true Hero in Hindu tradition. The ruler of the hearts of men, he who has the capability to make his enemies crumble into dust, but is still endowed with passion and compassion for all beings, he who speaks the truth, he who is ever devoted to something higher than the high, ever devoted to the achievement of that high through the study and performance of the Veda; He indeed is a Vīra. Who better than Śrī Rāmacandra, who is the very object of the Vedic rituals, being Yajñapati (lord of the sacrifice), as well as the object of the deliberations of the Upaniṣad, being Parabrahman (the supreme reality); to represent this ideal.

If you enjoyed reading this, you may love our recent work on Greatness, which is also based on Carlyle’s Great Man Theory.

Introduction to Greatness

We are born for the enjoyment of life. However, happiness is merely the enjoyment of life in the manner that conforms best to our nature. All of life, one should sacrifice everything, comfort, self interest, happiness, to their destiny. Through the darkest clouds of nihilism, those eyes which are capable of seeing the sun of hope above them, that’s greatness. Accepting things as it is or compromising with your faith that certain things can not be changed, is something weak men would settle with. Greatness is standing firm for your beliefs, believing in your destiny.

“But things are too doomed to be restored”, It is certain that before every remarkable change done by Great men, heroes, they would have thought the same. If things were already so certain, then everyone would try to achieve it, but what separates Great men from the mediocrity of trying to be “realist” is the belief in his destiny. To be great is to be certain in your destiny in what mediocrity would consider impossibility.

Destiny Must Be Fulfilled

To claim I am a “realist” is to have limitations of ambition, for Great men reality could be whatever their destiny would be. Of course it would still have to be real in the possibility of general life. Additionally, actions are also a very crucial part of greatness because thoughts are only prerequisite of actions.

But, how could we figure out what our destiny is? : If you have any ambition, it is so natural to you, so innate, so intimately linked with your existence, that it is like the blood that circulates in your veins, like the air that you breathe.

That Ambition Is Your Destiny.

The world is a very malleable place. If you know what you want and you go for it with maximum energy and drive and passion, the world will often reconfigure itself around you much more quickly and easily than you would think.

~ Marc Andreessen

In order to be one of the greats, you would have to not only build your own world but also your own reality.

Luck

Luck, for the vulgar luck could mean randomness, an unseen gift or curse from nature passed down to the individuals. But, a consecutive series of great actions never is the result of chance and luck. It is always a product of planning and genius. Is it because they are lucky that great men become great? No, but being great, they have been able to master luck. What is luck? The ability to exploit accidents. It is the characteristics of genius.

Shallow men believe in luck. They believe in circumstances. Strong men believe in cause and effect.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Thus, in order to become strong, men must believe in cause and effect. However, what they should not believe is in the idea of hesitation. One should go after their life with maximum energy and drive and passion. Hesitation is fatal, once an action has begun, it must be followed through with the utmost exertion of the will.

In order to be great, you don’t have to have a hundred different ideas. You only have to identify a handful of principles. And you repeat these ideas and principles for decades. Strong men also should be shooting for immortality. There is no immortality but the memory that is left in the minds of men. To have lived without glory, without leaving a trace of one’s existence is to have not lived at all.

Founder Mentality

The idea that I can start something that changes the world around me. To quote a note on Napoleon’s temperament “The temperament is characterized by his dissatisfaction with the disorderly nature of the world, such as he finds it. He creates his own world.”

When defined, creation of our own world is, the greatest improvisation of the human mind is that which gives existence to the non-existent.

Heroes, or the Great Men

History is filled with glories of Great Individuals. In fact, you can become one too. Without great men, we have only mediocre men and if there has never been anything but mediocre men, we would still be stuck in the stone age.

Thomas Carlyle argues that a true hero is guided by two main principles: complete sincerity in one’s beliefs and respect for the existing social order. Normally, a great person should obey traditions and institutions rather than destroy them recklessly. However, if there is a conflict between obedience and sincerity, sincerity must prevail, because truth to one’s conviction is the hero’s highest duty. This is why Carlyle also includes Jean-Jacques Rousseau among his heroes, despite his faults and his influence on the French Revolution, because he remained deeply sincere in his beliefs.

Most heroes, however, do not wish to cause disruption and would rather avoid breaking with the old order if possible. Carlyle points to figures like Martin Luther, who were reluctant to challenge existing traditions but did so when their convictions demanded it. From this idea follows another virtue: tolerance. One should respect sincerity wherever we find it, even when the beliefs are very different from our own. Truth can appear in many forms, so sincere conviction deserves reverence.

However, Carlyle rejects shallow skepticism that dismisses belief altogether. To recognize truth, one must approach the world with faith in the deeper meaning of the universe. Thus, the hero’s character ultimately rests on several connected virtues.

Napoleon, a kid from a small island called Corsica, grew up getting bullied, and managed to become an artillery man in the French army. Four years later, The French Revolution erupted with the goal of dismantling the monarchy. King Louis XVI was executed by guillotine, followed by thousands of nobles, clergy, and political enemies during the Reign of Terror. A decade later Napoleon crowned himself Emperor of the French. “I found the crown of France lying on the ground, and I picked it up with my sword.” He accomplished what no one would have believed possible by believing in his destiny, fulfilling all his ambitions, remaining loyal to his convictions, and defying every odds. He built his own world and changed the fate of his country, of millions of people, and even the course of history. Did he achieve all of this because he was the chosen one? No. He was able to do it because he chose himself to be the one.

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This article arose because there exists a conflict between timeline and chronology of ancient Indian history given by traditional Indian sources and those constructed by modern historians and indologists. The base of chronology constructed by western historians is Greek synchronism, i.e. looking at contemporaries of Alexander, because the date of his invasion of India was known to the west as 326 BCE. They tried to find his contemporary kings in India and use this as an anchor point to construct the timeline of Indian history backwards from there. Greek sources give Greek names of three successive Indian kings viz. Xandermes, Sandrocottus, and Sandrocyptus. According to western historians Sandrocottus was none other than Chandragupta Maurya, which means the Maurya dynasty was contemporary of Alexander. But, this assumption is wrong and is the reason for distortion in timeline of Indian history. This Sandrocottus was actually Chandragupta of the Gupta Dynasty. This article presents evidence, that the actual contemporaries of Alexander were the Guptas not the Mauryans, by using primary sources including Chanakya’s Arthashastra, Megasthenes’ accounts, etc.

This article is based on the works of Pandit Kota Venkatachelam.

British historians and Indologists were the first in modern times to construct a timeline of Indian history. Among their ranks were figures such as William Jones, men who were devout believers in the Bible. It is therefore not surprising that they accepted the 6,000-year-old world myth that was prevalent in their era. The origin of this belief can be traced back to Archbishop James Ussher of Ireland, who proposed that the Earth was created in 4004 BCE and that the Great Flood, which only eight humans (Noah and his family) survived, occurred in 2348 BCE.1

Hence, when these British “Christian” historians and Indologists, got down to work on the timeline of Indian history, they discovered that the Indian sources mentioned times stretching back far beyond 6000 years! To abide by their own framework, they forcefully truncated the timelines of Indian history to under 4000 years. They removed numerous kings and compressed the ruling years of many.2

Indian historians, trained in English education, Indians by blood but Englishmen by the heart, faithfully followed their English masters and worked to forcefully fit this timeline on Indian History. The result of this dirty exercise that has been going on for the last two centuries is in front of us. All our school and college textbooks follow the timeline which does grave injustice to India’s history. We will go into detail of this later, but first I want to introduce to you the great historian to whom all Bharatiyas should be grateful, who derived our historical chronology from our shastras, primarily the Puranas and the Mahabharata along with inscriptions. This article is dedicated to him.

This historian is Pandit Kota Venkatchalam, a traditional Sanskrit and Jyotisha scholar as well as a historian which enabled him to combine western astronomy, jyotisha, geography, and primary sanskrit and prakrit sources to reconstruct Indian chronology. He has authored 25 books on Indian history and beyond, 10 of which have been translated into English. He has been conferred with titles such as “Bharata Charitra Bhaskara”, “Vimarsakagresara”, and “Paakayaji” for his works. He took sanyasa and became known as Swami Advayananda Shankar Bharati, Acharya of Abhinava Virupaksha Peetham, an upapeetha of Sringeri, on 8 July 1957.3[^3]

Let’s look at what he says regarding the distortions in Indian history:

“The greatest mistake that has ever been committed in the field of the Chronology of Ancient India-nay the greatest harm that has ever been done to the cause and progress of the ancient Indian History and Literature-is the so called identification of Sandrocottus, Sandrocyptus, of the Greek writers of Alexander’s history with Chandragupta Maurya, the first king of the Maurya Dynasty, and of the so-called identification of Xandrames or Andramen with Nanda, the father of the said Chandragupta Maurya.”4

Greek Synchronism

The basis that western historians have used to establish and anchor the dates of ancient history is the Greek synchronism. Since the date of Alexander’s Invasion of India was known to be around 326 BCE, they looked at his contemporaries and used this as an anchor point. Greek sources mention three powerful Indian kings around the time of Alexander, they are, successively, Xandermes, Sandrocottus, and Sandrocyptus.5

Now they just needeed to fit these Greek names to similar sounding Indian kings’ names. The name of the second king ‘Sandrocottus’, as per them, matched perfectly with Chandragupta. There are two major kings in Indian history named Chandragupta, one from the Mauryan and another from the Gupta dynasty. We need to use the remaining two Greek names to figure out which one of two Chandragupta was around the time of Alexander. The Greek name of the kings before and after Chandragupta are Xandermes and Sandrocyptus. This is where the distortion starts, whether it is due to malice or incompetence is left as a decision for the reader to make.

We know that the kings before and after Chandragupta Maurya are Dhanananda of the Nanda Dynasty and Bindusara of the Maurya Dynasty respectively. Clearly, it can be inferred that the names Dhananda and Bindusara do not match Xandermes and Sandrocyptus, but this is exactly what the British “Christian” Historians did. They equated Xandermes with Dhanananda, and Bindusara with Sandrocyptus.

For Chandragupta of Gupta Dynasty, the kings before and after him are Chandrashri (or Chandrabija or Chandramas) of the Andhra Dynasty and Samudragupta of the Gupta dynasty respectively. These names have much greater resemblance with their corresponding Greek names.

This argument alone is not enough for us to establish that the Gupta Dynasty ruled around 300 BC. We need to take a look at other aspects.

Barber Connection

Some people will argue that greeks have said that Xandermes was the son of a barber which fits on Dhananada. This has been explained in detail by Dr. Sri K.D. Sethna in his essay “Xandermes of the Classical accounts and his Puranic Counterpart” in Purana Bulletin Vol 9, no.1, published in 1967 by All India Kashiraj Trust. I will not explain it here because the article will become very long.

Girivraj vs Patliputra

Girivraj (Rajgir or Rajagriha) has been the capital of Magadh since the founding of Magadh kingdom till at least Kanva dynasty. The dynasties that had Rajgir as their capital after the Mahabharat War are Barhadradh, Pradyota, Shaishunaga, Nanda, Maurya, Sunga, and Kanva. There is no mention of Pataliputra being the capital of any of these dynasties in any ancient Hindu source. All the Hindu Puranas say that Girivraj was capital of Magadh. The reference to Pataliputra as capital of Maurya in sanskrit drama Mudra Rakshasa has misled historians.6

I will give some sources that mention Girivraj.

संग्रामे भारते वृत्ते सहदेवे निपातिते। सोमाधिस्तस्य दायादो राजाभूच्च गिरिव्रजे ।।7

Translation: In the Mahabharata war Sahadeva was slain, his son Somadhi became the king (of Magadha) at Girivraj.
This is actually said in various Puranas, and quoted by Pandit Kota Venkatachelam.

“In the Puranas of Ceylon it is stated that the first convention of Buddhists was held in the year of Buddha’s demise at Rajagriha, which is also called Girivraja the capital of Magadha kingdom.”8

This shows that capital of Magadha before Gupta dynasty was Girivraja. Udayana the 8th king of Sisunaga dynasty constructed the city of Kusumapura on southern bank of Ganga, this city was later called as Pataliputra.9 In Ashoka’s time Buddha Sangha Parishad was located in Pataliputra, but it was not the capital.10

So, Chandragupta Maurya, Bindusara, Ashoka, and other kings ruled from Girivraj but never from Pataliputra as their capital. Pataliputra was the capital of Gupta dynasty. It is from here that Chandragupta, Samudragupta and other Gupta kings ruled over their empire. Megasthenes, Dionysius and other Greek ambassadors have mentioned explicitly that they resided in Pataliputra. Therefore, they were present at the court of Gupta kings, and not the Mauryan kings.

Administrative Differences

We can all agree that Chanakya’s Arthashastra was written for Chandragupta Maurya, and it must have been followed at that time. Arthashastra tells us that each town was governed by ‘Nagarika‘ employed by the King. Nagarika had all the administrative powers of the city.Every town was divided into four wards each, each ward had a Sthanika who was incharge. Under Sthanika were Gopa, who were in charge of each street. All these officials were under control of Nagarika.11 We do not find anywhere in Arthashastra that councils existed or were used for any administrative purpose. Even if some other kingdoms used Councils in Administration of towns, Chanakya being a great Acharya of Arthashastra would have surely mentioned them in his treatise.

Let us now take a look at what Megasthenes says in regards to administration of towns:

“Those who have charge of the city are divided into sıx bodies of five each The members of the first look after everything relating to the industrial arts. Those of the second attend to the entertainment of foreigners. To these they assign lodgings, and they keep watch over their modes of life by means of those persons whom they give to them for assistants. They escort them on the way when they leave the country, or, in the event of their dying, forward their property to their relatives. They take care of them when they are sick, and, if they die, bury them. The third body consists of those who inquire when and how births and deaths occur, with a view not only of levying a tax, but also in order that births and deaths among both high and low may not escape the cognizance of Government. The fourth class superintends trade and commerce. Its members have charge of weights and measures, and see that the products in their season are sold by public notice. No one is allowed to deal in more than one kind of commodity unless he pays a double tax. The fifth class supervises manu-factured articles, which they sell by public notice. What is new is sold separately from what is old, and there is a fine for mixing the two together. The sixth and last class consists of those who collect the tenths of the prices of the articles sold Fraud in the payment of this tax is punished with death.

Such are the functions which these bodies separately discharge. In their collective capacity they have charge both of their special departments, and also of matters affecting general interest, as the keeping of public buildings in proper repair, the regulation of prices, the care of markets, harbours, and temples.

Next to the city magistrates there is a third governing body, which directs military affairs. This also consists of six divisions with five members to each.”12

As you can see here Megasthenes mentions that there were six councils in charge of each City, each responsible for different kinds of work. Each council had five members. This was the administrative system during the time of Megasthenes, which is vastly different and almost opposite to that of Chanakya.

These two systems cannot exist simultaneously. Therefore, Megasthenese must not have been present during the Maurya period.

Title of the Kings

Megasthenes mentions that the kings in addition to their own name, adopted titles related to Pataliputra.

“The people in whose country this city is situated is the most distinguished in all India, and is called the Prasii. The King, in addition to his family name, must adopt the surname of Palibothros, as Sandrocottos, for instance, did to whom Megasthanes was sent on an embassy”.13

This is best explained by Pandit Kota Venkatachelam , so I will quote him:

“There were nine sects of Lichchavi Kshatriyas, eight of which formed into a confederation and jointly carried on the administration. Gupta Chandragupta conquered them and got the territory under his rule and made Palibothros the capital of his kingdom—which is called the Prasii.”

“As these kings and a large number of their subjects were of the solar race, a custom developed whereby these kings affixed to their names as the title the word ‘Aditya which means the Sun-God, the progenitor of their race. The Mauryas were Sudras and they never affixed Aditya or any other title to their names.”14

Maurya kings did not affix any title to their names. Gupta Kings adopted a title with the suffix Aditya representing Suryavansha. This is concrete evidence that Megasthenes was in the court of Gupta kings and not Maurya kings.15

Conclusion

After looking at all the evidence presented above, the least you can do is doubt the version of history you have learned in school textbooks. Now, if we correct this anchor point and take Gupta dynasty as the contemporary of Alexander, this will give us Gupta dynasty around 300 BCE instead of 400 AD. This will have gigantic consequences on the timeline of ancient Indian history. Those of you who are interested to read about the consequences of Gupta dynasty being the contemporary of Megasthenes, and to know the real chronology of ancient Indian history. You can start by reading the works of Pandit Kota Venkatachelam, you can start from “Chronology of Ancient Hindu History Part I”. This book will give you overview of what the chronology will be after removal of all the distortions that plague our understanding of history.