Sanātana Dharma
THe notion of sanātana dharma is one of those that has no exact equivalent in the West, so that it appears impossible to find a term or expression that would render it wholly and in all its aspects. Every translation that one might propose for it would be, if not completely false, at least most inadequate. Ananda K. Coomaraswamy thought that the expression that could perhaps best give at least its approximation was Philosophia perennis, taken in the sense in which it was understood in the Middle Ages. This is indeed true in certain regards, but there are nevertheless notable differences, and it is all the more useful to examine them, as some people seem too easily to believe in the possibility of a pure and simple assimilation of these two notions together.
We must remark first of all that the difficulty does not hinge on the translation of the word sanātana, for which the Latin perennis is really the equivalent. It is properly a question here of 'perenniality' or perpetuity, and not at all of eternity as is sometimes said. Indeed this term sanātana implies an idea of duration, while eternity, conversely, is essentially 'non-duration'. The duration in question is, if you wish, indefinite, or more precisely 'cyclic', in the sense of the Greek aionios, which no longer has the meaning of 'eternal' that the moderns, through a
regrettable confusion, too often attribute to it. What is perpetual in this sense is what constantly survives from the beginning to the end of a cycle. And, following Hindu tradition, the cycle that must be viewed in what concerns sanātana dharma is a manvantara, that is, the duration of manifestation of a terrestrial humanity. We should add immediately, for we shall see its full importance later on, that sanātana also has the meaning 'primordial' and it is, moreover, easy to understand its very direct link with this sense, since what is truly perpetual can be nothing but that which goes back to the very origin of the cycle. Finally, it must be clearly understood that this perpetuity, with the stability it necessarily implies, though not in anyway to be confused with eternity, with which it has no common measure, is, however, like a reflection, in our world, of the eternity and immutability which appertain to those principles themselves of which sanātana dharma is the expression, in relation to our world.
The word perennis, in itself, can also include all we have just explained. But it would be fairly difficult to say to what degree the scholastics of the Middle Ages, to whose language the term Philosophia perennis more particularly pertains, could have had a clear awareness of it, because their point of view, while being evidently traditional, nevertheless only extended to an external domain and, hence, limited for multiple considerations. Whatever the case, and admitting that one may, independently of all historical considerations, restore to this word the fullness of its meaning, what remains nonetheless a cause for more serious reservations than the assimilation of which we have just spoken, is the use of the term Philosophia, which corresponds in a certain way precisely to this limitation from the scholastic point of view. First, this word, being normally given the use the moderns habitually employ, all too easily gives way to these equivocations. One can, it is true, dissipate them by taking care to specify that Philosophia perennis is not by any means 'one' philosophy, that
is to say, one particular conception, more or less limited and systematic, and having as author such and such an individual, but the common fund from which proceeds whatever is truly valid in all philosophies. And this way of viewing it would certainly correspond, in fact, to the thought of the scholastics. Only, there would still be an impropriety here, for what is in question, if it is considered an authentic expression of truth, as it must be, would be Sophia rather than Philosophia. 'Wisdom' must not be confused with the aspiration that strives for it, or the quest that may lead to it, and these are all the word 'philosophy' properly designates, following its etymology itself. One perhaps will say that it is capable of a certain transposition, and although the latter does not appear to us to be necessary, as it would be if one really had no better term at one's disposal, we do not intend to contest its possibility. But even in the most favourable case, it still would be very far from being able to be considered an equivalent for dharma, for it could only ever designate a doctrine which, whatever the breadth of the domain is, infact, would embrace and remain in any case solely theoretical, and which, consequently, would in no way correspond to all that is included in the traditional point of view, in its entirety. In the latter, infact, doctrine is never viewed as a simple theory sufficient in itself, but as a knowledge which must be effectively realised, and, moreover, it involves applications stretching to all modalities of human life, without exception.
This extension results from the very meaning of the word dharma, which is as anyway impossible to render wholly by a single term in Western languages. By its root dhri, which means 'to carry, support, sustain, maintain,' it primarily designates the principle of preservation of beings, and consequently of stability, at least so far as the latter is compatible with the conditions of manifestation. It is important to observe that the root dhri is almost identical, as form and as meaning, with another root dhru, from which is derived the word dhruva which designates 'pole';
it is effectively to this idea of 'pole' or 'axis' of the manifested world that one must refer if one wishes to understand the notion of dharma in its deepest sense. It is what remains invariable at the centre of the revolutions of all things, and which rules the course of change by the very fact that it does not take part in it. One must not forget, in this regard, that language, by the synthetic character of the thought it expresses, is much more closely bound to symbolism, here, than it is in modern languages, where such a link no longer survives in a certain measure except by virtue of a distant derivation. And perhaps one might even show, if this did not depart too much from our subject, that this notion of dharma is connected fairly directly to the symbolic representation of the 'axis', through the figure of the 'Tree of the World'.
One might say that dharma, if one had to view it, thus, only in principle, is necessarily sanātana; and even in a broader sense than the one that we indicated above, since, instead of being limited to a certain cycle and to the beings there manifested, it applies equally to all beings and to all their states of manifestation. We rediscover indeed here the idea of permanence and stability. But it naturally follows that this idea, outside of which there can be no question at all of dharma, can nevertheless be applied, in a relative way, to different levels and in more or less limited domains, and this is what justifies all the secondary or 'specialised' meanings of which this same term is capable. By the very fact that it must be conceived as the principle of preservation of beings, dharma resides, for these, in the conformity with their essential nature. One can, therefore, speak in this sense, of the dharma proper to every being, which is more precisely designated as svadharma, or to every category of beings, as well as of the dharma of a world or state of existence, or only of a definite portion of it, of the dharma of a certain people or a certain period; and when one speaks of sanātana dharma, as we have said, it is then a question of the entirety of humanity, and this during all the duration of its manifestation, which constitutes
a manvantara. One can still say, in this case, that is the 'law' or the 'norm' proper to this cycle, formulated from its origin; by Manu who governs it, that is to say, by the cosmic intelligence that reflects the Divine Will, and expresses universal order in it. And this is, in principle, the true sense of mānava-dharma, independently of all particular adaptations that could be derived from it, and which moreover, will receive legitimately the same designation, because they will be, in sum, quite as these translations require by such and such circumstances of time and place. One must nevertheless add that, in like fashion, it could happen that the very idea of 'law', in fact, brings a certain restriction, for although it can, as is true for its Hebrew equivalent thorak, also be applied by extension to the contents of the whole body of Sacred Writings, what it makes one think of most immediately is naturally the 'legislative' aspect, properly called, which certainly is far from constituting the whole tradition, although it is an integral part in every civilisation which can be qualified normal. This aspect, though in reality only an application to the social order, like all the other such applications necessarily presupposes the purely metaphysical doctrine which is the essential and fundamental part of the tradition, the principal knowledge upon which all the rest wholly depends and without which nothing really traditional, in whatever domain it be, could exist at all.
We have spoken of the Universal Order, which in manifestation is, the expression of the Divine Will, and which assumes in each state of existence particular modalities determined by the conditions proper to this state. Dharma may, under a certain aspect of at least, be defined as conformity to order, and this is what explains the close kinship existing between this notion of rta, which is also order and etymologically has the sense of 'rectitude', like te in Far Eastern traditions with which Hindu dharma has much in common, and which also obviously harks back to the idea of 'axis', which is that of a constant and invariable direction. At the same time, this term rta is manifestly identical
to the word rite, and in its primitive meaning the letter does, indeed, designate all that is accomplished in conformity to order. In any integrally traditional civilisation, and most especially at the very beginning, everything has a properly ritual character rite only comes to have a more limited meaning as a consequence of the degeneration that produces 'profane' activity, in whatever domain it be. All distinction between 'sacred' and 'profane' supposes, indeed, that certain things are viewed henceforth outside of the traditional point of view, whereas the latter applies equally to all; and these things, by the very fact that they are considered 'profane' truly become adharma or anrta. It must be clearly understood that rite, which then corresponds to 'sacred', by contrast always conserves the same dhärmika character, if one may express it, thus, and represents what still remains as it was prior to this degeneration; and that it is non-ritual activity that is really only deviant or abnormal activity. In particular, all that which is mere 'convention' or 'custom', without any profound reason, and of a purely human institution, did not exist originally and is only the product of a deviation. And rite, traditionally viewed as it should be to deserve this name, has absolutely no relation, whatever some people might think, with all this, which can never be but its counterfeit or parody. Moreover, and this is yet another essential point, when we speak hereof conformity to order, one must not understand by this only the human order, but also, and even primarily, the cosmic order. In every traditional conception, indeed, there is always a strict correspondence between them, and it is precisely rite that preserves their relations in a conscious fashion, implying in someway collaboration from man in that sphere where he exercises his activity, the cosmic order itself.
It follows from this that, if one views sanātana dharma as integral tradition, it includes principally all branches of human activity, which are moreover 'transformed' by it, since, by virtue of this integration, they share the 'non-human' character that is
inherent in all traditions, or which, more precisely, constitutes the very essence of tradition as such. It is, therefore, the exact opposite of 'humanism', that is the point of view that claims to reduce everything to the purely human level, and which, basically, is at one with the profane point of view itself. And this is where, most notably, the traditional conception of the sciences and of the arts differs profoundly from their profane conception, to such a point that one might say, without exaggeration, that it is separated from it by a veritable abyss. From the traditional point of view, every science and every art is only really valid and legitimate so far as it is connected to universal principles, so that they appear most definitively as an application of fundamental doctrine in a certain contingent order, just as the legislation and social organisation are also an application in another domain. By this participation with the essence of tradition, science and art, also have, in all their modes of operation, that ritual character we spoke of earlier, and of which no activity is devoid so long as it remains what it should be normally. And we will add that there is, from this point of view, no distinction to be made between arts and crafts, which traditionally are one and the same thing. We cannot here insist further on all these considerations developed already on other occasions. But we think that we have at least said enough to show how all this goes beyond 'philosophy' in all respects, in whatever sense it may be understood.
Now, it should be easy to understand what sanātana dharma really is: it is nothing but Primordial tradition, which alone survives continuously without change through all the manvantara, and, thus, possesses cyclic perpetuity, because its very primordiality shields it from the vicissitudes of successive epochs, and which alone also can in all strictness, be regarded as truly and fully integral. Moreover, owing to the descending course of the cycle, and spiritual obscuration that then results, this Primordial tradition has become hidden and inaccessible to ordinary humanity. It is the first source and the common fund of all particular traditional
forms, which proceed from it by adaptation to special conditions of such a people or such an epoch; though none of these can be identified with sanātana dharma itself, or be considered as an adequate expression of it, which, however, is always in them as a more or less veiled image. Every orthodox tradition is a reflection and, we might say, a 'substitute' for Primordial tradition, in the measure permitted by contingent circumstances, so that, although it is not sanātana dharma, it nevertheless represents it truly for those who adhere to it and share in it effectively. For they cannot attain it except through it, and since, moreover, it expresses, if not the integrality, at least all that directly concerns them, and this in the form is the most appropriate for their individual nature. In a certain sense, all these various traditional forms are principally contained in sanātana dharma. For they are so many regular and legitimate adaptations of it, and even in any single one of those developments of which they are capable in the course of time there never could be anything else, at depth. And in another sense, inverse and complementary to this, they all contain sanātana dharma as something most inner and 'central' in them, being, in their different degrees of externality, like veils that conceal it, and only let it transfuse in a more or less attenuated and partial fashion.
This being true for all traditional forms, it would be a mistake to wish to assimilate sanātana dharma purely and simply with one among them, whatever that might be, moreover, even the Hindu tradition, in terms of which it actually presents itself to us. And, if this mistake is sometimes committed, in fact, it can only be by those whose horizons, owing to the circumstances in which they find themselves, are exclusively limited to this tradition alone. If, however, this assimilation is legitimate to a certain degree, following what we have just explained, the followers of each of the other traditions could also say, in the same sense and with the same right, that their own tradition is sanātana dharma. Such an affirmation would always be true in
a relative sense, although it obviously false in the absolute sense. There is, however, a reason why the notion of sanātana dharma appears to be bound more particularly to the Hindu tradition. This is because the latter is, of all the presently living traditional forms, the one that most directly derives from Primordial tradition, being somehow a sort of external continuation of it, always taking into account, of course, the conditions in which the human cycle unfurls, of which it itself presents a more complete description than all those one might find elsewhere, so that it, thus, shares to a lighter degree that all other in its perpetuity. Besides, it is interesting to note that the Hindu tradition and the Islamic tradition are the only ones that explicitly affirm the validity of all the other orthodox traditions. And if this is so, it is because, being the first and the last in the course of the manvantara, they must equally integrate, although in different modes, all these various forms which have arisen in the interval, so as to render possible a 'return to the origins' by which the end of the cycle must rejoin its beginning, and which, at the starting point of another manvantara, the true sanātana dharma will again externally manifest.
We must still point out two misconceptions which are only too widespread in our epoch, and which witness to a certainly much more serious and complete misunderstanding than the assimilation of sanātana dharma to a particular traditional form. One of these misconceptions is that of the so-called 'reformers', as is encountered today even in India itself. There are those who believe they are able to rediscover sanātana dharma by instituting a sort of more less arbitrary simplification of tradition, which corresponds in reality only to their own individual tendencies, and which most often betrays prejudices due to the influence of the modern Western spirit. It must be noted that, generally, what these 'reformers' apply themselves primarily to eliminate either because it eludes them entirely, or because it runs counter to their preconceived ideas, is precisely what has the most profound
significance. And this attitude is roughly comparable to that of the 'critics' who reject as 'interpolations' everything in a text that does not agree with the idea they have of it or with the meaning they wish to find there. When we speak of a 'return to the origins', as we did a moment ago, it is assuredly of something else we speak, and something which, moreover, does not depend in anyway on the initiative of individuals as such. One does not see at all why Primordial tradition should be thought simple, as these people claim, unless it be that, by infirmity or intellectual weakness, one wishes it to be thus. And why should the truth be obliged to accommodate the mediocrity of the faculties of comprehension of average actual men? To realise that there is no reason, it suffices to understand, on the one hand that sanātana dharma contains all that is expressed through all traditional forms, without exception, with something more also, and that, on the other hand, that these are necessarily truths of the highest and most profound order that have become the more inaccessible through the fact of the spiritual and intellectual obscuration inherent in the cyclic descent. Under these conditions, the simplicity cherished by the modernists of every type is evidently as far as possible from constituting a mark of the antiquity of a traditional doctrine, and with even greater reason, of its primordiality.
The other misconception to which we would draw attention primarily belongs to the various contemporary schools which adhere to what one has agreed to call 'occultism'. These schools habitually proceed by 'syncretism', that is to say, by bringing together the various traditions, so far as they can know them, in a completely external and superficial fashion, not even in order to try to disengage what they have in common, but only to somehow juxtapose elements borrowed from each of them on the other. And the result of these constructions, as odd as they are whimsical, is presented as the expression of an 'ancient wisdom' or of an 'archaic doctrine' whence all traditions would
issue, and which become, thus, identified with the Primordial tradition, or to sanātana dharma although these terms themselves seem, moreover, almost ignored by the schools concerned. It naturally follows that all this, whatever be the pretensions, could not have the least value, and only responds to a purely profane point of view, the more so since these conceptions are accompanied almost invariably by a total failure to grasp the necessity of adhering above all to a definite tradition, for anyone wanting to penetrate the spiritual domain to any depth whatever. And it is well to understand that we wish to speak hereof an affective adhesion, with all the consequences that this implies, including the practice of that rites of this tradition, and not only of a vague 'ideal' sympathy like the one that leads certain Westerners to declare themselves to be Hindu or Buddhist without knowing clearly what this is; and in any case, without even ever thinking of acquiring a real and regular attachment to these traditions. This is nonetheless the point of departure which no one can dispense with, and it is only afterwards that everyman can, according to the measure of his capacities, seek to go further. It is never a question hereof speculations in a vacuum, but of knowledge that must essentially be directed with a view to spiritual realisation. It is only from there, from within their traditions, and we might even speak more exactly again of their very centre, should one succeeds in reaching it, that one can really become aware of what constitutes their essential and fundamental unity, therefore, truly attain the full knowledge of sanātana dharma.