KNOWLEDGE AND ACTION
We have said that the relationships between the spiritual and temporal powers must be determined by those of their respective domains. The question, thus brought back to its principle, seems to us very simple, for it is fundamentally nothing other than that of the relationship between knowledge and action. One could object, from what we have just shown, that those who possess temporal power must normally possess a certain knowledge also; however, leaving aside for the moment the fact that they do not possess it of themselves-since they derive it from the spiritual authority-this knowledge is in any case related to applications of doctrine and not to the principles themselves and thus is properly speaking only a knowledge by participation. Knowledge par excellence-the only one that truly deserves this name in its fullest sense-is knowledge of principles, independent of all contingent applications; and this belongs exclusively to those who possess spiritual authority because there is nothing in it deriving from the temporal order, even taking this in its widest sense. Applications of this knowledge on the other hand refer to the temporal order because this knowledge is no longer envisaged only in and for itself, but insofar as it gives to action its law; and it is in this measure that it is necessary to those whose proper function is essentially in the domain of action.
It is obvious that in all its diverse forms-military, judicial, and administrative-the temporal power is entirely engaged in action; by virtue of these very attributions it is confined, then, within the
same limits as action, within the limits that is to say of the world that can properly be called 'human', including in this term moreover possibilities much more extensive than those usually imagined. Spiritual authority on the contrary is based entirely upon knowledge, since, as we have seen, its essential function is the conservation and teaching of doctrine, and thus its domain is as limitless as truth itself.[^1] What is reserved for this authority by the very nature of things-what it cannot communicate to men whose functions are of another order because their possibilities do not include it-is transcendent and 'supreme' knowledge, [2] which lies beyond the 'human' domain and even, more generally, beyond the manifested worldthat is to say, knowledge which is no longer 'physical' but 'metaphysical' in the etymological sense of the word. It should be clearly understood that there is no question here of any wish on the part of the sacerdotal caste to keep the knowledge of certain truths for itself, but of a necessity that results directly from the differences of nature existing among beings, differences that, as we have already said, constitute the raison d' être and the foundation of caste distinction. Those who are made for action are not made for pure knowledge, and in a society constituted on truly spiritual bases each person must fulfill the function for which he is really 'qualified'; otherwise, all is confusion and disorder and no function is carried out as it should be-which is precisely the case today.
We are well aware that by reason of this very confusion the considerations we are setting forth here can only appear quite strange to the modern West, where what is called 'spiritual' usually has only a remote connection with the strictly doctrinal point of view and with knowledge free of all contingency. Here one can make a rather curious observation: today people are no longer content simply to distinguish between the spiritual and the temporal, which is legitimate and even necessary, but also want to separate them radically;
nevertheless it happens that the two orders have never been as mixed together as they are at present, and that, above all, temporal preoccupations have never so affected what ought to be absolutely independent of them. This is doubtless inevitable by reason of the very conditions of our epoch, which we have described elsewhere. In order to avoid all false interpretations we should therefore state clearly that what we say here concerns only what we have called spiritual authority in its pure state, of which we should be wary of looking around for examples. If one wishes, this may be thought of as a theoretical type-an 'ideal', so to speak-although in truth this way of considering things is not entirely our own. We do recognize that in historical applications it is always necessary to take contingencies into account, at least to a certain extent; but even while doing so, we have to take the civilization of the West for what it is: a deviation and an anomaly that can be explained by the fact that it corresponds to the last phase of the Kali-Yuga.
But let us return to the relationship between knowledge and action. We have already had occasion to treat this question to a certain extent, [3] and consequently we shall not repeat all that was said at that time. It is indispensable however at least to recall the most essential points. We consider the antithesis of East and West in the present state of things to amount to this: the East maintains the superiority of knowledge over action whereas the modern West affirms on the contrary the superiority of action over knowledge (when it does not go so far as to deny knowledge completely). We refer here only to the modern West since things were quite otherwise in antiquity and in the Middle Ages. All traditional doctrines, whether Eastern or Western, are unanimous in affirming the superiority and even the transcendence of knowledge in relation to action, in reference to which it in a way plays the role of Aristotle's 'unmoved mover', which of course does not mean that action has no legitimate place and importance within its own order. But this order is only that of human contingencies. Change would be impossible without a principle from which it proceeds and which, by the very fact that it is the principle of change, cannot itself be subject to
change, thus being necessarily 'unmoved' and at the center of the 'wheel of things.' [4]
In the same way, action, which belongs to the world of change, cannot have its principle in itself, since it derives its reality from a principle that lies beyond its domain and that can only be found in knowledge. Indeed, knowledge alone enables one to leave behind the world of change or 'becoming' and its inherent limitations; and when it attains the immutable, as is the case in principial or metaphysical knowledge-which is knowledge par excellence [5]-it itself possesses immutability, for all true knowledge is essentially identification with its object. By the very fact that it implies possession of this knowledge, the spiritual authority also possesses immutability. The temporal power, on the contrary, is subject to all the vicissitudes of the contingent and the transitory unless a higher principle communicates to it, in a measure compatible with its nature and character, the stability it cannot have on its own. This principle can only be that represented by spiritual authority. In order to subsist, then, temporal power needs a consecration that comes from spiritual authority; it is this consecration that confers upon it legitimacy, that is to say conformity with the very order of things. Such was the raison d'être of the 'royal initiation', as we explained in the preceding chapter; and it is in this that the 'divine right' of kings properly consists, what the Far-Eastern tradition calls the 'mandate of Heaven': the exercise of temporal power by virtue of a delegation of the spiritual authority, to which that power 'eminently' belongs, as we explained earlier. [6] All action that does not proceed from knowledge is lacking in principle and thus is nothing but a vain agitation; likewise, all temporal power that fails to recognize its subordination
vis-à-vis spiritual authority is vain and illusory: separated from its principle, it can only exert itself in a disorderly way and move inexorably to its own ruin.
Since we have just spoken of the 'mandate of Heaven', it will not be out of place to relate here how, according to Confucius himself, this mandate was to be carried out: 'In order to make the natural virtues shine in the hearts of all men, the ancient princes first of all applied themselves to governing their own principality well. In order to govern their principality well, they first restored proper order in their families. In order to establish proper order in their families, they worked hard at perfecting themselves first. In order to perfect themselves, they first regulated the movements of their hearts. To regulate the movements of their hearts, they first perfected their will. To perfect their will, they developed their knowledge to the highest degree. One develops knowledge by scrutinizing the nature of things. Once the nature of things is scrutinized, knowledge attains its highest degree. Knowledge having arrived at its highest degree, will becomes perfect. Will being perfect, the movements of the heart are controlled. The movements of the heart having been controlled, every man is free of faults. After having corrected oneself, one establishes order in the family. With order reigning in the family, the principality is well-governed. With the principality being well-governed, the empire soon enjoys peace.' [7]
One must admit that this is a conception of the role of the sovereign that differs singularly from what this role is imagined to be in the modern West, making it all the more difficult to put into practice, although also giving it an altogether different significance; and one can note in particular that knowledge is indicated explicitly as the primary condition for the establishment of order even in the temporal domain.
It is easy now to understand that the reversal of the relationships between knowledge and action in a civilization is a consequence of the usurpation of supremacy by the temporal power; this power must in fact claim that there is no domain superior to its own, which is precisely that of action. If matters stopped there, however,
we would still not have reached our present impasse, where knowledge is denied any value. For this to take place, the Kshatriyas themselves had to be deprived of their power by the lower castes. [8] Indeed, as we observed earlier, even when the Kshatriyas rebelled, they still had a tendency to affirm a truncated doctrine, one falsified by ignorance or denial of all that goes beyond the 'physical' order, but one within which there still remains certain real knowledge, however inferior. They made a pretense of-passing off this incomplete and irregular doctrine as the expression of the genuine tradition, an attitude-condemnable though it may be as regards the truth-not altogether devoid of a certain grandeur. [9] Besides, do not terms such as 'nobility', 'heroism', and 'honor' designate in their original acceptations qualities that are essentially inherent to the nature of the Kshatriyas? On the other hand, when the elements corresponding to the social functions of an inferior order come to dominate in their turn, all traditional doctrine, even if mutilated or altered, disappears entirely; there subsists not even the slightest vestige of 'sacred science', so that the reign of 'profane knowledge' is ushered in, the reign, that is, of ignorance pretending to be science and taking pleasure in its nothingness. All of which can be summed up in a few words: the supremacy of the Brahmins maintains doctrinal orthodoxy; the revolt of the Kshatriyas leads to heterodoxy; but with the domination of the lower castes comes intellectual night, and this is what in our day has become of a West that threatens to spread its own darkness over the entire world.
Some will perhaps reproach us for speaking as if castes existed everywhere, and for improperly extending to all social organizations designations that properly fit only India; but since these latter
essentially point to functions necessarily found in every society, we do not think this extension unwarranted. It is true that caste is not just a function; it is also and above all that which, in the nature of individuals fits them to exercise this or that function in preference to any other, but these differences of nature and aptitude also exist wherever there are men. The difference between a society where there are castes in the true sense of the word and a society where there are none is that, in the first case, there is a normal correspondence between the nature of individuals and the functions they carry out (subject only to errors of application that are in any event exceptions), whereas in the second this correspondence does not exist, or at least exists only accidentally, the latter case showing what happens when the social organization lacks a traditional foundation. [10] In normal cases there is always something comparable to the institution of castes, with the modifications proper to this or that people; but the organization we find in India is the one that represents the most complete type with respect to the application of metaphysical doctrine to the human order. In short, this reason alone should suffice to justify the terms we have adopted in preference to others that we might have borrowed from institutions having, by their more specialized form, a much more limited field of application, for these other terms would be unable to furnish the same possibilities for expressing certain truths of a very general order. [11] Besides, there is another reason which, though more contingent, is not negligible: it is very remarkable that the social organization of the Western world in the Middle Ages was based precisely on the division of castes, the clergy corresponding to the Brahmins, the nobility to the Kshatriyas, the third-estate to the Vaishyas, and the serfs to the Shūdras. [12] They were not castes in the full meaning
of the word, but this coincidence, which is certainly not fortuitous, still permits a very easy transposition of terms in passing from the one case to the other; and this remark will find its application in the historical examples we shall consider below.