Ātmā-Gītā
N our most recent work we alluded to an interior* meaning of the Bhagavadgītā which, when it is looked at from this point of view, takes the name Ātmā-Gītā. [2] As we have been asked for
*The dichotomy Guénon has in mind in distinguishing the interior meaning from the exterior meaning of a work, is the one he elsewhere more literally styles as between the esoteric and the exoteric meaning of a work. He remarks, "we have had occasion to refer to the distinction...between what is called esoterism and exoterism, that is to say between two single aspects of a single doctrine, the one more interior and the other relatively exterior: such in fact is the whole literal meaning of the two terms. Exoterism, comprising the more elementary and easily understandable part of the teaching, which was consequently more readily brought within everybody's reach, is the only aspect to be expressed through the writings that have come down to us in a more or less complete form. Esoterism, being more profound and of a higher order, addressed itself as such only to regular disciples of the school who were specially prepared to receive it, and was the subject of a purely oral teaching, concerning which it has obviously not been possible to preserve very precise indications. Moreover, since we are here only concerned with a single doctrine regarded under two different aspects and having as it were two different levels of teaching, it should be clearly understood that these aspects could not in anyway be opposed to one another. The esoteric branch, by bringing to light the deeper meaning which the esoteric branch contained only virtually, developed and completed the doctrine which the latter had expounded in a rather vague, over-simplified and sometimes more or less symbolic form." Introduction to the Study of the Hindu Doctrines, tr.; Marco Pallis, pp. 158-59, Luzac, London, 1945; reprinted, New Delhi, 2000.
some explanation on this subject, we think it not inappropriate to give one here. The Bhagavadgītā, which is, as far as we know, an extract from the Mahābhārata, [3] has been translated so many times into European languages that it must surely be wellknown to all. But this is of no matter since, truth to tell, none of these translations bears witness to a true understanding. Even the title is generally rendered somewhat inaccurately as 'Song of the Blessed One', for, in reality, the principal meaning of Bhāgavata is 'glorious' or 'venerable'. That of 'happy' also obtains, but in a secondary way, and moreover, it is, anyway, not wholly suitable in the context. [4] In fact, Bhāgavata is an epithet which applies to all the divine aspects, and also to those beings which are considered particularly worthy of veneration. [5] The idea of blessedness, which is anyway, basically, of a wholly individual and human order, is not necessarily found here. There is nothing surprising in the fact that this epithet be given notably to Krṣna, who is not only a venerable figure, but who, as the eighth avatāra of Viṣnu, corresponds in reality to a divine aspect. But there is something else to consider here.
To understand this latter, we must remember that the two points of view, the Vaiṣnavite and the Śaivaite, which correspond to two great paths befitting beings of different nature, each takes, as aid for lifting itself towards the Supreme Principle, one of two divine aspects, complementary in a certain way; and to which they owe their respective designations, transposing this aspect in such a way that they identify it with the Principle Itself, seen without any restriction and beyond all determination or specification whatever. That is why the Śaivas call the Supreme Principle Mahādeva or Maheśvara, which is strictly an equivalent of Śiva, while the Vaiṣnavas similarly call it by one of the names of Viṣnu, like Narāyana or Bhāgavata, the latter being used mostly by a particular branch whose representatives for this reason are called the Bhāgavatas. There is in all this, moreover no element of contradiction: names are multiple as are the paths
to which they correspond, but these paths all lead more or less directly to the same goal. Hindu doctrine knows nothing comparable to Western exclusivism, which insists that one and the same path must equally suit all beings, without taking any account of the differences in nature which exist between them.
Now, it will be easy to understand that Bhāgavata, being identified with the Supreme Principle, is for this very reason, none other than the unconditioned ātmā. And this is true in all cases, whether this ātmā be contemplated in the 'macrocosmic' order or in the 'microcosmic' one, according to which diverse point of view was being referring to. We clearly cannot consider repeating all the developments that we have already given elsewhere on this subject. [6] What interests us most directly here is the application which we might call 'microcosmic,' that is to say, that which is made to each being considered in its particularity. In this respect, Krṣna and Arjuna respectively represent the 'Self' and 'me,' personality and individuality, which are the unconditioned ātmā and jīvātmā. The teaching given by Krṣna and Arjuna is, from this interior point of view, that of suprarational intellectual intuition, whereby the 'Self' communicates with the 'me', when the latter is 'qualified' and prepared in such a way that this communication may be effectively established.
We must point out, for this is of the greatest importance in the context, that Krṣna and Arjuna are represented as mounted on the same chariot. This chariot is the 'vehicle' of being, viewed in its state of manifestation. And while Arjuna is fighting, Krṣna drives the chariot without fighting, that is, without himself engaging in action. [7] In fact, the battle in question symbolises action, in a very general way, and in a form appropriate to the nature and function of the Kṣatriyas, to whom the book is most especially devoted. The field of battle (kṣetra) is the domain of action through which the individual develops his possibilities. And this action in no way affects the principal being, permanent and immutable, but concerns only the individual 'living soul' (jīvātmā).
The two mounted on the same chariot are, thus, the same as the two birds spoken of in the Upaniṣads: "Two birds, inseparably united companions, live in the same tree; one eats the fruit of the tree, the other looks on without eating." [8] Here again, with a different symbolism representing action, the first of these two birds is jīvātmā, and the second is unconditioned ātmā. It is the same again for the 'two who entered the cave,' mentioned in another text. [9] And if these two are always closely united, that means that in reality they are but one with regard to absolute reality, for jīvātmā is distinguished from ātmā only in an illusory manner.
There is also, to express this union, and precisely in direct relation with the Ātmā-Gītā, a term which is particularly noteworthy: Naranārāyaṇa. We know that Nārāyaṇa, 'He who walks (or is carried) on the water,' is a name for Viṣnu, applied by transposition to paramātmā or the Supreme Principle as we have already mentioned above. The waters here represent formal* or individual possibilities. [10] On the other hand, nara or nr is man, the individual being inasmuch as he belongs to the human race. And it is well to note the close relation that exists between this word and that of nara, which designates the waters. [11] But this would draw us too far afield from our subject. Thus, nara and Nārāyaṇa are respectively the individual and the Universal, the 'me' and the 'Self,' the manifest state of a being, and its nonmanifest principle. And they are indissolubly reunited in the compound Naranārāyaṇa, which is sometimes spoken of as two ascetics living in the Himalayas, and which more particularly
*Guénon uses the terms 'formal' (formelle) and 'informal' (informelle) simply to mean 'formed' (or 'having form,' rūpa) and 'non-formed' (or 'not having form,' arūpa). The distinction normally in question is that between 'manifestation which has shape' (rūpa), and 'manifestation which has no shape' (arūpa). An instance of the latter might to be tanmātras, or 'subtle principles' which, though by no means ultimate principles, are nonetheless 'shapeless' until expressed and mingled to give rise to what we call, 'physical things'.
Though of course, the term 'non-formed' applies to the non-manifest alist
recalls the last Upaniṣadic text mentioned above, the text where the 'two who entered the cave' are at the same time designated as 'having their abode on the highest peak.' [12] In this same compound it is also declared that nara is Arjuna, and Nārāyaṇa is Kṛṣna. These are the two mounted on the same chariot, and always, under one name or another, and whatever the symbolic forms employed, jīvātmā and paramātmā.
These indications allow us to understand what is the interior meaning of the Bhagavadgītā, a meaning in relation to which all the others are, in sum, only more or less contingent applications. This is true notably of the social meaning in which the functions of contemplation and action, relating respectively to the supraindividual and the individual, are considered to be that of the Brāhmaṇa and the Kṣatriya. [13] It is said that the Brāhmaṇa is the type of fixed or immutable beings (sthāvara), and that the Kṣatriya is the type of mobile or changeable beings (jangama). [14] We can easily see the analogy that holds between, on the one hand, these two classes of being, and, on the other, immutable personality and individuality subject to change. And this immediately establishes the link between this meaning and the preceding one. What is more, we see that precisely where the Kṣatriya is concerned, because action is his proper function, the latter may be taken as symbolising individuality whatever it be, which is necessarily also engaged in action by the very conditions of its existence. While the Brāhmaṇa, by virtue of his function of contemplation and pure knowledge, represents the higher states of being. [15] And thus we may say that every being has in itself the Brāhmaṇa and the Kṣatriya, but with a preponderance of one or other of the two natures, according to whether its tendencies draw it principally towards contemplation or towards action. We, thus, see that the scope of the teaching contained in the Bhagavadgītā is far from being limited to Kṣatriya, taken in the proper sense, although the form through which this teaching is exposed is particularly appropriate to them. And if Occidentals, among
whom the Kṣatriya's nature is encountered much more frequently than that of the Brāhmaṇa, were to return to an understanding of traditional ideas, such a form is undoubtedly also the one that would be most immediately accessible to them.