A BATTLEFIELD OF A TEXT INNER TEXTUAL INTERPRETATION IN THE SANSKRIT MAHABHARATA

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THE UNIVERSITY OF CmCAGO

A BATTLEFIELD OF A TEXT INNER TEXTUAL INTERPRETATION IN THE SANSKRIT MAHABHARATA VOLUME ONE

A DISSERTATION SUBMITTED TO THE FACULTY OF THE DIVISION OF THE HUMANITIES IN CANDIDACY FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY DEPARTMENT OF SOUTH ASIAN LANGUAGES AND CIVll..rZATIONS

BY TAMAR CHANA REICH

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS DECEMBER 1998

OMI Number: 9910937

UMI Microform 9910937 Copyright 1999, by UMI Company. AIl rights reserved. This microform edition is protected against unauthorized

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UMI

300 North Zeeb Road Ann Arbor, MI 48103

Copyright © 1998 by Tamar C. Reich All rights reserved

To Eli. No'a and Asaf.

Iv

Table of Contents Volume One

Acknowledgments ..................................................................................

VI

Abstract ...............................................................................................

viii

Introduction: What's Novel in the Epic? ................................................... .

Chapter I: Varieties of Textual Variation ...................................................

38

1.1. From Variation to Growth Through Reflexivity .................................

38

1.2. A Typology of Variations ..........................................................

42

1.3. Heterogeneity of Textual Production .............. ...... .... ...... ......... ... ....

77

1.4. A limit Case (Xll.29, XII.248-250, and VII Appendix 1.8) .. ... ... ...........

110

Chapter II: Praise-Blame Dialogues and Verbal Duels in the Kar1}a Parvan ......................................................................................

156

II.I. Fighting Words ........................................................... ............

156

II.2. Double Talk: The Salya and Karoa Verbal Dual (VIII.26-30).. ... ......... ....

184

II.3. Killing with Words: Arjuna's and

Yudhi~!hira's

Exchange of

Insults and Praises (VIII.45-49) ...................... ....... ... ...................

231

II.4. The Kama-Salya and the Arjuna- Yudhi~thira Exchanges Considered Together and in the Larger Scheme of the Mahiibhiirata ......... 245

v

Volume Two Chapter ill: Dialogic Forms In the Aivamedhika Parvan

.. ,............ ........... 250

m.l. Contestatory Discourse ..................................................................................250

m.2. A Contestatory Textual Relationship: The Story of The Brhaspati-SaTflvarta Rivalry (XIV.4-1O) and the Discourse on the Enemy Within (XlV. 11-13) ...................................................................289

m.3. Inner Textual Interpretation: The Mongoose Unit (XIV.92-96) .................... 301 m.4. Playful Manipulations: The Yoga as Internal Sacrifice Unit (XIV .20-25) ..................................................................................................323

m.5. Shifting Guilt in the Horse Sacrifice Complex Unit (XIV.61-91) .................345

m.6. Uttarika: Encounters with God and with Serpents (XlV.52-57) ................... 358 m.7. The Aivamedhika Parvan: Renewal and Redefinition of a Tradition ................................................................................................. 370

Conclusion ................................................................................................................... 376 Bibliography ................................................................................................................379

vi

Acknowledgments Many people made this work possible. I like to joke that my dissertation is a very belated paper for a seminar that David Shulman gave at the Hebrew University years ago. where my love and intellectual fascination with the Mahiihharata began. David's support and useful comments throughout the writing of this dissertation were invaluable to me. At Harvard I resisted at first Michael Witzel's steadfast insistance on the importance of critical editions. and his criticism of aspects of Heesterman's work which I found compelling. In retrospect I can see that struggling with his objections helped me to work out what I hope is a more sophisticated approach to the issues at hand. At the University of Chicago. Sheldon Pollock helped me through crucial stages of conceiving this project. was always thorough and honest in his criticism. and when I wanted to take the project in a direction which he felt uncomfortable with. he allowed me to do so. My encounter years ago with Wendy Doniger's structuralist treatment of Hindu narrative texts stimulated some of the questions and doubts out of which this project eventually grew. It was a pleasure finally to be able to work with Wendy who shares my love for the ambiguities of Mahiibhiirata narrative. Norman Cutler was a sensitive. thoughtful and constructive reader. Steven Collins' suggestions were very useful. Throughout my years at the University of Chicago I received financial aid from the university, in particular from the Committee on South Asian Languages and Civilizations. In 1996-7 I received a generous write-up grant from the Whiting Institute. I am grateful to all these people and institutions. I am also grateful to my family. Without the financial support of our parents. Chava and Sholom Kahn and Jenny and Yisrael Reich, my husband Eli and I would not be able to pursue graduate work simultaneously. Eli has been a wonderful partner in all things. including academic work. Without our constant sharing of ideas, this dissertation would

vii

not have been possible. Neither would it have been possible without his willingness to share tasks at home, much beyond what is conventional in most families. I am also grateful to my daughter No'a and to my son Asaf, whose beloved presence sustained me through many difficulties.

viii

Abstract Euro-centric scholarship has always perceived the heterogeneity of the Sanskrit

Mahabharata's textual tradition as a problem. My approach to the Mahabharata is dialogic in the sense introduced by the Russian thinker M. M. Bakhtin. I positively strive to be sensitive to the variety of voices found within the textual tradition, and to the many ways in which intentional possibilities are being realized in specific. concrete directions. Chapter I treats heterogeneity on the level of manuscript variation. Classical stemmatics is bound to concepts of originality, unity and authorial intention. I use the critical edition to show that the process of textual production! transmission has been very different for different portions of the Mahabharata. I argue that the practice of textual expansion should be regarded as constitutive to the Mahiibharata, and that portions of the text can be most fruitfully read as a comment, a response, or an interpretation to other, pregiven portions. In a close study of a limit-case of doublets, I show that in spite of structural similarity, the two units are significantly independent both stylistically and in their ideological stance. In other words, by attending to surface features we can hear distinct voices which would be lost in a structuralist analysis, which deliberately lifts units out of their context. Chapters II and ill are devoted to exploring aspects of the heterogeneity of the

Mahabharata tradition. This means studying the specificity of selected units. I have deliberately chosen my units both to represent the contrast between heroic concerns which predominate in some parts of the Mahabharata and the priestly concerns which predominate in other parts of the textual tradition, and to demonstrate how these discursive worlds dialogically interact by appropriating each others imagery and tropes. The manuscript

IX

traditions of the two books which I have chosen to study are also almost at the opposite ends of the spectrum in that one has evidently never been centrally redacted whereas the other seems to have a single archetype. Chapter II address the rhetoric of heroic praise and blame and verbal duels in book

VIII. the Ka17)a Parvan. The primary function of these performances is to work up the combatants into a state of fury. The more complex exchanges go beyond this function into the realm of reflection on the reasons for the hostility between the parties. Some of the more interesting among these exchanges. two of which I treat in detail. are concerned with enhancing the ambiguities of the situation. The figure of KarIJa is most inviting of such explorations. but the fascination with ambiguities extends even to

Yudhi~thira

himself.

Chapter ill describes a rhetorical form which I call "contestatory discourse" and explores its function in book XIV. the Aivamedhika Parvan. Contestatory discourse is associated with agonistic or contestatory rituals. and involves the intertextual deployment of units of discourse against one another. I argue that this discursive pattern is central to the Parvan's thematics as well as to its textual organization. Chapter ill is thus also a reading of the Aivamedhika Parvan. The description of the horse sacrifice itself involves mostly battle scenes. but the bulk of the Parvan is concerned with the contestation of the nature of sacrifice and of a dhanna based on sacrifice. Rather than being arbitrary. the juxtaposition of discourses is deliberate. and is appropriate in a Parvan which is about a contestatory rite. It would be nice to be able to show how exactly the differences in textual production account for the different concerns of the two Parvans. but I don't think such a causal connection exists. Rather. we have to be content with the understanding that one can not expect unity of voice from the textual tradition. and that in fact. the dialogic processes which constitute the Mahabharata tradition are precisely where its richness of meaning lies.

Introduction What's Novel in the Epic?

The Mahiibhiirata, often referred to as the "great Sanskrit epic" and sometimes embraced as the "national epic" of India, eminently deserves the mahQ (great) component of its name. It is a great text, in many ways. First and foremost, it is long, very long. Tradition speaks of the 100,000 couplets (s1okas)

of the Mahiibnarata. 1 Some Western scholars still enjoy pointing out that the

Mahiibhiirata is "about ten times the length of the iliad and the Odyssey put together."

This huge mass of text is divided into eighteen books (parvan), which are further divided into chapters (adhyaya). There is also a parallel division into 100 (minor) books or (sub )parvans. This baffling scope is further compounded by the number and variation of manuscripts, which are extant from all parts of the Indian subcontinent, and in various scripts. 2 The Mahiibhiirata also has a number of traditional running commentaries or glosses) In modern times, a number of printed editions have been pubHshed. 4 For many IMost of the Mahabharata is in the anu$tubh (sometimes also called iZoka) meter of 32 syllables. Some verses are in other meters, of which the most common is the tri${Ubh of 44 syllables. There are also some prose passages. 2The Sanskrit Mahiibharata has been written in many different scripts. Apart from the pan-Indian Devanagart, regional scripts were used., the most important of which are the Sax-ada (of Kashmir, the NepalI, the Maithili (of North Bihar), the Bengali, the Telugu (of Andhra), the Grantha (of Tamilnadu), the MaHiyaJam (of Kerala). these tlkiis simply provide the meanings of difficult words or compounds. The earlier ones were copied separately from the text. The most notable early commentaries are by Devabodha (probably Kashmiri, used Kashmiri manuscripts, perhaps 11th century), Arjunamisra (used Bengali manuscripts, 16th century) and 3 Usually ,

2

purposes it is useful to further extend the definition of the Mahabharata by including its y

numerous adaptations or retellings, either in Sanskrit or in other Indian and non-Indian languages, old and new.s Many other works in various genres are closely related to the MahOhharata in various ways, from Sanskrit court drama and poetry based on episodes or

characters from the Mahabhiirata, to folk drama and song in which Mahabharata characters figure, to modem short stories, dramas, comic books as well as film and y

television versions. Many Indians feel that they know the Mahabharata quite intimately even though they have never read the Sanskrit version, and may not know the language at all. Any treatment of the Mahabharata must assume tha4 in an important sense, the Mahiibharata is more than a single text - it is a narrative tradition, a literature.

Nevertheless I have chosen to devote this study to the earliest known and historically most influential version of the Mahabhiirata, the Sanskrit Mahiibharata attributed to the legendary Vedic seer Vyasa I have done that because I feel that the complexities of this enonnous textual tradition are not yet sufficiently understood. A critical edition does exist and has been accepted by the scholarly community as the

standard text, yet it has not resolved the fundamental problems of textual boundaries and definition. On the contrary, even when accepted on its own terms - and whether these terms are acceptable is one of the issues addressed in this dissertation - the critical edition

NlIakantha (from Mahar~tra. wrote in Banares, late 17th century). Other early commentators include Vimalabodh~ Sir)Q.ily~ Sarvajiia-NiraYaIJa and Ratnagarbha. 40f which the most notable ones, beside the critical edition published by the Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute, are the Calcutta edition and the Bombay edition, both based on the text used by NIIakaJ).tila. The Kurnbhakonam edition and the edition produced by P.P.S. Sastri are based more on the manuscript traditions of South India. 5Among the earlier ones are the Javanese adaptation, Bharatam, caw 1000 e.E.; the Telugu adaptation, Andhra Bharatamu, by Nannaya Bhana, ca. 1025 C.E.; the Sanskrit adaptation, Bharatamaiijan, by ~emendra ca. 1050 C.E.; and a Persian rendering from ca. 1580 e.E..

3

has proved that heterogeneity is integral to the Mahiibharata. While it canfions that some portions of the Mahabharata are derived from a single original manuscript (an "archetype"), it proves that other large portions did not have such a single source. Furthennore, the so-called reconstructed text, and this is true even for the books with a relatively simple manuscript history, is no less generically and ideologically heterogeneous than any of the manuscript versions. The basic narrative of the Mahiihhiirata is a tale of a battIe fought between two factions of the Bharata royal family. The battle is staged in the distant past, during the transition between the previous cosmic age~ the dvapara yuga, and the present one, the kali yuga.6 The battle at Kuru.k$etra, or the field of the Kurus, was a catastrophic battle in

which virtually all the /qatriyas, or warrior-Icings, of the time participated, and all but a precious few perished. Of the whole Bharata lineage only one, a child called P~i~ survived to inherit the throne. He too had been killed in his mother's womb, but was revived by the grace ofKJ?I}.a. After P~it, his son~ Janamejaya, ruled the land of Bhara~

and it is to this Janamejaya that the bard VaisarppaYaIJa addresses the whole

narrative. When described briefly like this the Mahabharata seems to fit well the Euro-centric idea of an epic. Like the Diad, it is a long battle narrative placed in a remote heroic

pas~

attributed to an oral poet, and with imponant implications for the identity of a collectivity. However, and this is where the complications start, in any of the Mahiibharata's empirically attested versions, as well as in the critically reconstructed tex~ the narrative is interwoven with theological, cosmological and legal discourses, some of which are so long, they could easily be regarded as independent treatises if they were not framed by a question-and-answer exchange between protagonists of the battle narrative and interspersed

6According to Hindu cosmology, a cosmic age or mahayuga comprises four yugas,

from the longest and best (the krtayuga) to the shortest and worst (the kaliyuga).

with vocatives addressed to these protagonists. Many students of the Mahiibharata with Euro-centric training have found this mix of doctrine and narrative disturbing. To make things even more complicated, the narrative itself digresses into many side-narratives, whose connection to the main story often seems minimal. Some of these seem to belong to a very different genre from the main story; while the main story is about heroic deeds and dynastic struggles, the side stories include many cosmogonic legends ritual lore, folk y

stories parables and riddles. Neither do the doctrinal sections of the Mahabharata possess y

the kind of philosophical and terminological consistency that one can expect from the classical philosophical treatise of the Sanskrit tradition. The Mahabharata does not present anything like a single philosophical position. Thus the Mahiibharata is heterogeneous from both the generic and the doctrinal point of view. Considering all of this, it is obvious that the Mahabharata does not cater to readerly expectations shaped by nineteenth-century European standards. And why should it? Yet the serious encounter of Euro-centric scholarship with the Mahiibhiirata begins in the nineteenth century and is shaped even today by attitudes established then and this study y

inevitably stands within this tradition if only by virtue of the fact that it is an attempt to understand the problem of the Mahlibhiirata's textual identity in tenns that do not always coincide with traditional South Asian thought on the subject. This is not to say that the Mahabhiirata textual tradition itself or traditional South Asian thought has nothing worthwhile to offer on the subject. On the contrary, within the text itself are found numerous statements regarding the circumstances and the mode of its composition, its genre, its source materials, its boundaries and the nature of its authority or claim for truth. Most notable are the frame stories, which literally tell us when, where, by whom and under what circumstances the Mahabhiirata was recited on a number of first occasions. The whole text is cast in the shape of question and answer exchanges between a number of narrators and listeners.

5

The first recitation, according to this scheme, took place at king Janamejaya's extended snake sacrifice at the city ofT~aSiHi. On that occasion the brahman Vaisarppayana recited to Ianamejay~ P~it's son .. the story of his own Bharata lineage. However, not VaisaIppayana but VaisaIPpayana's teacher, the great Vedic seer Vyasa.. is considered the "author" of the Mahabharata. According to this presentation, Vyasa did not recite, but lent the authority of his presence to the first recitation. Vyasa's involvement with the Mahabharata narrative is much more complex than that of a mere author in the modem sense. He was also the progenitor of the other main protagonists, their spiritual guide, and an active participant throughout the events. The authority of Vaisaxppayana's recitation is derived from Vyasa's perfect knowledge and from his very presence. The part of the text which tells about VaisaIppayana's recitation can be called the main frame of the Mahabharata. Another, outer-most frame, further elaborates on the circumstances of the first recitation, and specifies more briefly the circumstances of its own recitation. According to this frame, the second recitation took place during the extended sacrifice (sattra) of the brahman sage Saunaka at the Naimi~a forest. This time the reciter was a suta, a bard of mixed caste, by the name ofUgraSravas. UgraSravas had heard the story of the battle of Bharata from Vaisarppayana at Janamejaya's sacrifice, and recited it to the brahmans participating in Saunaka's sattra. The emboxed frame structure is not just external "packaging.

If

It is repeated more

than once within the text. For instance, the entire Santi and Anuiiisana Parvans are narrated by the wise BhI~m~ as he lies wounded on his bed of arrows, to king Yudhi~thira.

This constitutes a frame within a frame. The frames are also tightly

interwoven into the body of the text by frequent reference to the narrative situation through

6

the constant return to the question and answer device and through the ubiquitous use of vocatives such as "Bharata!"7 The tradition thus has a rather complex self-presentation. Two frames, two main recitations. These may simply be two different traditions about the beginning of the Mahabharata, both of which have been included, but it is more likely that a distinction is being made within the tradition itself between a "Bharata," or a shorter version of 24,000 verses, as it was recited by

Vaisarppayan~

and a "Mahabharata," the full, 100,000 verse

version, which Ugra.sravas recited. There may also be a suggestion of the text being passed on from one kind of recitation tradition, represented by VaisaIPpayana to another, represented by UgraSravas. The frames also describe the early recitations of the Mahabharata as taking place during the lengthy perfonnances of a special type of Vedic sacrifice, called the sattra. Places are mentioned: Tak¥aSila, the N aimi~a forest. While the authority of Vyasa as ultimate source is invoked, the text is also interspersed with comments like "and here it is customary to recite the following," and with terms for types of sub-units of the text such as gatha, katha, or glta. Such usage may reflect an awareness of the eclectic sources on which the tradition draws, as well as a consciousness of something like generic differences within the text. The ParvaslllfZgraha subparvan of the first book, the Adi Parvan, gives a kind of table of contents of the Mahabharata by enumerating the 100 subparvans by name and even specifying the number of chapters and verses for each of the eighteen Parvans. 8 The Parvasa1!zgraha also mentions what seems to be Mahiihharata specialists: "those who reflect on the Mahabharata" and "experts on the numbers of verses in the Mahabharata".9 A popular (though late) passage in the Adi 7See Fitzgerld 1985; Minkowski 1989; Shulman 1991. A further discussion of the frames is also found below in section 1.2.2.4. 8M.Bh.BORI 1.2. 9M.Bh.BORI 1.2.172 and 176.

7

Parvan describes how the Mahabhiirata was written down directly from the mouth of Vyasa. As the story goes, Ganesa agreed to be Vyasa's scribe on condition that Vyasa dictate the text so fluently that his pen should not cease writing for a moment. Vyasa accepted this condition, but set his own condition in return, that Ganesa should stop writing

if he did not understand anything. Oanesa accepted, and Vyasa proceeded to dictate the Mahabharata, putting into his text 8,800 "knots" or difficult places to cause Ganesa to stall. 10 Another famous verse declares: "Whatever is found here may be found somewhere else, but what is not found here is found nowhere." I I All of these statements are obviously of great interest. One should not, however, take them for more than what they are, namely, more or less systematic attempts by people within the tradition both to understand and to shape the complex cultural activity in which they were participants. We don't know that the traditions about the first and second recitations are any less legendary than the story about Ganesa. This is why some of these statements contradict with others, as well as with some of the textual evidence. For example, the passage in which Vyasa dictates the text and GaneSa writes it down suggests that the text was written down immediately after its composition and directly from Vyasa. This is a different concept of the Mahabharata's authorship than the one suggested by the frame story, according to which the text has been recited and passed on orally for some generations at least between Vaismp.payana recitation and UgraSravas' recitation. 1

Similarly, there is no exact correlation between the Parvasamgraha's enumeration of

adhyayas and any existing manuscript or recension. The heterogeneity found at the level of the plot of the Mahabharata is found also at the level of its meta-text. This should not come as a surprise once we realize that the meta-

IOM.Bh. BORI I, Appendix It lines 7-15. 11 M.Bh.

BORI 1.56.34.

8

text itself also carne into being as pan of an ongoing process of textual production and expansion. The fact that these statements come from "within the text" certainly does not give them any kind of absolute authority (as if the Mahiibhiirata could "speak. for itself') or exempt the critical scholar from examining all the evidence as fully as possible. Traditional commentators on the Mahiibhiirata based their commentaries on what they understood to be the best text. and their idea of what a best text is did not necessarily coincide with modem ideas about texts. For instance. NlIakaQ.tha. who wrote his commentary in the late 17th century. consulted manuscripts from many parts of India and created the basis for an inclusive. highly eclectic text which later gained such popuJarity that both European and Indian scholars came to call it "the Vulgate."t2 The approach of the earlier commentators such as Devabodha and Arjunamisra to problems of textuality, has not been studied at all. The sense that something is problematic about the textual state of the Mahiibhiirata begins in earnest with the effoL'LS of European scholars to approach it historically and critically. It is of course necessary to recognize at the start that all scholarly work of the colonial period was touched by orientalist prejudices~ but it is not sufficient to do so. It is also necessary to understand what problems were perceived by these scholars and why_ both because the attitudes of the time are still with us

today~

and because these scholars

were often very perceptive. Around the turn of the century. most scholars (with the exception of 1. Dahlmann. who advocated a synthetic view of the epic l3 ) regarded the l'vfahiibhiirata as hopelessly chaotic. Winternitz. for instance bluntly described it as a "literary monster. "l4 The y

12S ukthankar

1933, lxv-Ixix.

13Dahlmann 1985. 14Winternitz 1927 326. 7

9

Holtzmanns· "inversion theory;· according to which the Mahabhiirata was originally an epic that glorified the Kauravas, and only later in its history was taken over by supporters of the upstart PfuJc;lavas who altered the story to suit their cause~ is another striking example of how the apparent contradictions of the narrative were felt to require a radical historical explanation. I5 In 190L E. Washburn Hopkins' The Great Epic of/ndia. Its Character and Origin distinguishes between the utrue epic" and the agglutinations to

it~

which he calls

the "pseudo-epic," and distinguishes periods in the epic's history .16 On the whole~ these historically-minded scholars attributed the perceived chaos to the lengthy and complex process of textual fonnation in which different individual

minds~

with their different

visions and agendas~ pulled and tugged at the Mahiibharta to produce the final result incoherence. More recently, with greater awareness of the ills of ethnocentrism and with changed literary sensibilities, scholars use less derogatory tenDS, such as "fuzzy boundaries" (Van Buitenen 1973), "fluidity" (Doniger 1988), "open text"

(Shulman~

1991). The term "fIuid u deserves special attention. It was used even by V.S. Sukthankar, the main editor of the Mahabharata critical edition, in 1933. Its more recent use may carry a newly introduced implication that the phenomena under consideration is uniquely Indian or South Asian. The idea has been put forth in the late 70's by McKim Marriot 17 that South Asians have a totally different way of conceptualizing boundaries of entities and persons than "Westerners." According to this

view~

South Asians think in terms of "coded

substances" or "dividuals" which are constantly in flux. South Asian entities have "permeable membranes/' they are constantly becoming by exchanging substances with 15Adolf Holtzmann Jr. 1985~ Das Mahabhiirata und seine Theile elaborated on the 1846 theory of his uncle Adolf Holtzmann Sr.. 16Hopkins 190 I. 17Marriot 1976; Marriot and Inden 1977.

to

other such entities. In recent scholarly literature, various South Asian social and cultural phenomena have been described as "fluid." 18 The valorization of fluidity has become much more positive in this recent discourse, but the notion still remains that this is something peculiarly South Asian. In this climate, it is just too easy to simply assume that the supposed "fluidity" of the Mahabharata is no more than another instance of that quintessentially South Asian way of thinking and being. 19 But is the Mahabharata's textual condition peculiarly Indian or South Asian? And is it nothing but that? CIearlY7 many non-South Asian texts, such as certain European medieval texts 20 or Jewish Hechalot literature.,21 share some of the qualities that are found in the

Mahiihharata and in other South Asian texts such as the Purii1)as and the Agamas. These texts have no single author, great variation amongst manuscripts., much overlap with other texts, no defmite moment of composition. This should not come as a surprise once we consider that the individual author, the notion of a moment of composition, the idea of a bound book - all these are products of a certain, rather late moment in the history of European thought. 22 Moreover, it has been amply shown that these concepts are

18Notably Daniel 1984. Fluid Signs: Being A Person The Tamil Way (even though in the case of this book there is also the implication that the "fluid" way is Dravidian and the suggestion is that the "not fluid way"bas been imposed on South Indians from the North). 19Doniger, for instance writes (with reference to the Mahabhiirata): "The fluidity of the Indian oraVwritten tradition is in part merely one aspect of the more general fluidity of Indian attitudes to all kinds of truth. This fluidity was eloquently described by E.M. Forster in A Passage to India: 'Nothing in India is identifiable; the mere asking of a question causes it to disappear or to merge into something else.'" She goes on, a few lines later:"There is no Ur-text, for there is no Ur-reality." Doniger 1988~ 64. 20PearsalI 1985. 21S chafer 1982. 22Foucault 1970; Barthes 1977.

11

problematic even when applied to literature produced under the spell of these very ideas. 23 The Orientalists of the turn of the century did not possess this awareness but we do. 7

Today it simply makes no sense to segregate the MahabhGrata case and treat it as a South Asian problem, thus inadvertently continuing the implicit or not-so-implicit Orientalist suggestion that the Mahiibharata is a failure to measure up to Western standards. In fact, now that we can distance ourselves from the ideas of individual authorship and authorial intention, I think the case of a very sophisticated composite text such as the Mahabharafa should be of great interest to anyone interested in textuality, and not only to South Asianists. On the one hand the Mahabharata's textual condition has much in common with many texts which are not South Asian, and on the other hand it is very special among 7

South Asian texts. 1. A. B. van Buitenen has pointed out that there may be a peculiar aspect of the Mahabharata story itself which invites the endless expansion of the plot and its ambiguities and contradictions.

The epic is a series of precisely stated problems imprecisely and therefore inconclusively resolved, with every resolution raising a new problem until the very end, when the question remains: whose is heaven and whose is hell?24 He calls it the "riddle" design of th~ Mahabharata. and it is clear that the Mahabhiirata does not share this "riddle" quality with other Indian texts.

In a more recent contribution, David Shulman contrasts the poetics of the (Yyasa) MahOhharata with that of another great text often referred to by Euro-centered scholars as

23 Jerome

McGann has shown that even their application to romantic poetry is problematic. McGann 1983. 24Yan Buitenen 1975,29.

12

an "epic," namely,. the (VaImlki) Ramaya1)a.25 Shulman emphasizes fonnal features of the Mahabharata which in his view make it an open-ended text. Among these are the multiple em boxed frames; the statements within the Mahabharata about multiple

Mahabharatas, or about multiple beginnings; Vyasa's multiple role as progenitor of the major heroes, participant and guide, survivor and author all in one. Shulman approaches this open- endedness26 as a literary device, an almost self-conscious fonnal quality of the

MahabhO.rata. 27 He further argues that the medium and the message resonate. On the thematic level, he emphasizes the encyclopedic quality, the tendency to include all things, the "endless dialogues [which] tend to feed into the structure of ongoing dilemmas," the "conscious thematic concern with fiery destruction as transcendent power." So the Mahabharata is coterminous with the world - not a modest claim perhaps, but one that does help to clarify the aims of this text. There is no escape built into it from its relentless, bleak vision. It represents itself not as a work of art but as reality itself. No boundary marks off this text from the world. 28 Van Buitenen and Shulman see the Mahabharata's special way with boundaries not as generically but as somehow peculiar to that text, part of the text's specific constitution. Furthermore, for both it is not a problem but a fascinating phenomenon worthy of study. 25Shulman 1991. 26Shulman 1991, 10. 27Shulman uses anthropomorphic language in talking about the Mahabharata. ("The Mahabharata represents itself'). Raising the issue of subjectivity and reflexivity in a text to which he himself does not attribute a single author, or even a grand editorial design, must of necessity raise the question: who is being reflexive, who is presenting himlher/itself? I think this personified language is misleading: it represses the historical nature of the Mahabharata, suggesting some original impersonal MahabJzarata impulse which might have expanded immensly, but was still trapped from the beginning "in its own bleak vision." 28Shulman 1991, 11.

13

My work is much indebted to their approach. In a way I am a little more old fashioned than Shulman in that I feel that fonnalist analysis has to be complemented with an understanding of the way the text developed~ the processes by which it was actually produced. My hypothesis is that what Shulman calls the "endless dialogues [which] tend to feed into the structure of ongoing dilemmas" reflects not so much a preconceived riddle design, as an ongoing process of textual growth of a certain kind. This is why I believe the history of the manuscript tradition deserves more attention.

The most monumental attempt to explain systematically and justify the relationship between the manuscripts is the critical edition, published by the Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute (BORl) in Poona between the years 1927 and 1970. 29 The edition has been largely accepted by the scholarly community, at least in the practical sense that it has virtually taken the place of all other editions as the standard text to quote, but not without considerable debate and some notable dissent. The debate started as early as 1929, when Sylvain Levi wrote, in response to the first sample edition of a portion of the Virata Parvan: ...je me sens mains assure de [Sukthankar] de I'authenticite de son texte. Je crains qu'il ait simplement cree une recension de plus, la recension de Pouna.

n a beau proceder sur un plus grand nombre de manuscrits que se

devanciers, Arjunamisra, NlIak3.I).tha et autres: son choix reste forcement aussi arbitraire que Ie leur... je conseillerais a l'editeur de renoncer... la reconstruction de "lUr Mahabharata" comme il se plait a dire~ d'accepter la Vulgate, - autrement dit l'editon de NIIaka.JJth~ par exemple - comme point de depart.. .3 0

29S ukthankar V. S. et al., ed. 1927 - 70. Mahabharata. 17 vols. Poona: Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute.

30Levi 1929, 347-48.

14

Fifteen years later, Franklin Edgerton, the editor of the Sabhii Parvan of the critical edition, expresses the opposite view in his introduction to that Parvan: .. .it is a text - in this case of the Sabhaparvan - which once existed, and from which all manuscripts of the work known to us are directly descended... every line of the text [which the critical edition approximates] had once a defmite, precise fonn, even though we are now frequently uncertain about just what that form was. It is not an indefinite tlliterature" that we are dealing with but a definite literary composition.31 A more recent Mahabharata scholar, Madeleine Biardeau, has taken Sylvain Levi's position. She does not quote the BORI edition. choosing instead to use the Vulgate text.3 2 Biardeau is also one of the few scholars who attempted a systematic critique of the theoretical presuppositions of the critical edition: The editors up till now have concentrated on the reconstruction of a single text out of the several known recensions, but it is recognized by everybody ~ including the editors themselves, that such a text never existed. It never represented the actual beliefs of any particular group, nor could it claim to stand for the minimum common beliefs of the Hindus. 33 Biardeau proposed the preparation of a synoptic edition in which all versions will be represented side by side, a perhaps impractical vision, but a solution which suits her structuralist approach, discussed below. 34 It is more common, however, for present scholars who are not quite comfortable with the reign of the BOR! edition to sidestep the

3lEdgerton 1944, xxxvi- xxxvii. 32S ee

also p. 23 below.

33Biardeau 1968, 123. 34Biardeau 1970, 30 I - 302.

15

issue and focus on other aspects of the Mahabharata, perhaps "making obeisance" to the

BORI text. 35 Since this dissertation is to a great extent a reassessment of the possibilities and limitations of the text-critical method applied to the Mahabhiirata in the BORI edition .. it is well worth our while to examine the assumptions underlying these and other positions in the debate. We may begin by placing Levi and Edgerton in their scholarly context.. since they represent two major schools in textual criticism. Edgerton's insistance on the one-time existence of a definite original text from which all manuscripts are derived may be taken as representative of the Lachmannian school of textual criticism. In its classical form, this method, also known as "stemmatics," assumes that a text has an original version and assumes that this version is the correct one. The process of textual transmission by the scribes is conceived as a source of error, and the object of the text critic is to trace this process in reverse, in order to eliminate such error as much as possible. The study of manuscripts is carried out within the tenns defined by an ancestral series. A tree-like diagram or "stemma" is prepared describing the manuscripts' hypothetical genealogy or "branching out. The least corrupt line of descent is identified, tJ

and by retracing the branching out process, the text-critic strives to arrive at an approximation of the "archetype, the hypothetical original manuscript from which all other II

manuscript are presumably derived. Stemmatics strives to be as mechanical and objective as possible by depending only on what is called lIextrinsic evidence," or evidence pertaining to text transmission on the basis of comparison of manuscripts. This is contrasted with "intrinsic evidence" such as the stylistic quality or merit of a reading in relationship to its manuscript variants.36 35Minkowski, 1989, 402. "I intend to avoid text - historical difficulties by relying on the findings of this standard edition. Therefore, having made obeisance, I begin." 36Patterson 1985.

16

Levi voices Joseph Bedier's objections to Lachmannian stemmatics. The French medievalist argued that in many cases the reconstruction of an original work from later textual constitutions was both impossible and misguided. He took the position that under such circumstances? one should only publish the "best text" among the extant documents~ with as little editorial intervention as possible.37 Evidently? at issue is the model of text presupposed by the method. Do all texts always have an original version? Is the original version of a tex4 even if technically it can be

reconstructe~

always the one that matters? Bemer arrived at his position based on his

experience with medieval texts? to which he felt such criteria do not apply. Leaving broader theoretical questions for a momen4 one may simply ask whether the

Mahabharata textual tradition suits the model presumed by stemmatics? and to this the answer is, yes and no. The differences between Levi and Edgerton may to some extent reflect the differences between the portions of the textual tradition they had an opportunity to study closely. Levi examined the edition of a portion of the Virafa Parvan, and Edgerton edited the Sabha Parvan. If SOy the problem may have a rather simple solution. Why not apply stemmatics when possible? But it is not as simple as that. Our reading practices don't just reflect the nature of the given text, they also press that text to yield one kind of meaning or another.

37Bedier 1928 is the best statement of his position - published? incidently? just a year before Levi's first review. McGann 1983, 65 - 66; Petterson 1985, 9; Hult 1991, 117 -118. In 1934 Levi responded again to Suktbankar's later formulations of his position in the Prolegomena to the Adi Parvan: "Au fond, c'est Ie probfeme de I'epopee homerique qui reparait sous une nouvelle fonn a propos du Maha Bhara~ et M. Sukthankar, forme a I'ecofe des pandits et a I'ecoIe de fa phifologie allemande, est tiraille entre la tradition indigene et Wolf. n ne peut sfempecher de tenir Vyasa et Vai~ampayana pour des personnages reels authntiues; il admet un poeme primitif, organique? a fa base de tous les remaniements; mais il declare aussi que 'pratiquement il n'ajamais existe un archetype' du poeme. 'Notre probleme, ecrit- il, est un probIeme de dynamique textuelle pIutot que de statique textuelle.'" but concludes more gently: " ...je dois a rna conscience de proclamer qu'il a accompli une oeuvre grande, belle et durable."

17

As David F. Hult points out, the Lachmannian method accepts the literary object as a gi ven~ and sees it as the un-mediated communication between an authorial figure and the present day reader. It accords precedence to authorial intentionality ~ to textual closure and to originality. In contrast, for the Bedierian editor, the text is an artifact. Bedierian theoretical skepticism rr does not take its own vocabulary or metaphors for granted. The It

Bedierian approach, he observes, is "more appealing to contemporary literary with its emphasis on

discontinuities~

fashions~

fragmentation and questioning of authorial

intentionality." Despite the striving to recover the individual authorial voice, the Lachmannian editor~ from the point of view of the manuscripts, is eliminating the individual, the accidental, separating it from the unique (and therefore, in Hult's analysis of Lachmann, transcendent) authorial voice. To use Hult's analogy, the reconstructed text stands to the manuscripts as (in the terms of the famous French structuralist, Ferdinand de Saussure) langue stands to

parole. The Bedierian editor, on the contrary, accentuates the particular and the accidentaL

To extend that same analogy, for that editor, the materiality of the manuscript is conceived as part of an individual act of speech.3 8 The practice of critical editing is closely bound up with the notion of authorial intent, with the assumption that there was a definitive moment in which the text as a whole was contained in the mind of an author. Recently, scholars have questioned the validity of such assumptions even when it comes to Romantic poetry. 39 When dealing with such texts as the Jewish Hechalot literature of late antiquity it is evident that such an intention and such a single moment of production can in no way be postulated. 40 But even in cultures where

38Hult 1991. 118-124. 39McGann 1983 40S c hafer

1982.

18

indi vidual authorship and originality in composition are not the nonn~ notions of originality, closure and intentionality seem to have some force. Michel Foucault has argued (in reference to the Euro-centric intellectual tradition) that readers postulate a creative intelligence behind a text in order to account for what they feel ought to be the text's unity, precisely because they sense that such a unity is lacking.41 We are used to thinking that the author is so different from all other men~ and so transcendent with regard to all languages., that as soon as he speaks, meaning begins to proliferate, to proliferate indefinitely. The truth is quite the contrary: the author is not an indefinite source of significations which fills a work; the author does not precede the work; he is a certain functional principle by which in our culture one limits, excludes and chooses; in short, by which one impedes the free circulation, the free manipulation, the free composition, decomposition and recomposition of fiction.... The author is therefore the ideological figure by which one marks the manner in which we fear the proliferation of meaning.42 This function of a text, which often, but not necessarily, coincides with the text's historical author, Foucault calls the "author function." Any student of South Asian culture knows that the "author function" is not a universal hermeneutical principle - the Mlmarpsa school of Vedic interpretation is such a prominent counter example. The hemeneutic presupposition of this school is that the Veda is not derived from a human source (apallruyeya). But precisely because the author function is not to be taken for granted in

the Brahmanical context~ it is striking that the MahObhiirata textual tradition does have a very specific kind of author function in the figure of Vyas~ the sage who sat through the first recitation lending the authority to the line of transmission without uttering a word. Vyasa's moral authority as both progenitor and teacher, his unlimited knowledge, his direct experience of and personal involvement in the events, all these validate the Mahabharata's 41 Foucault, 1984. 42Foucault 1984, 118 -119.

19

claim to being an itihiisa, a recounting of the past "as indeed it has been." But the

Mahabharata textual tradition as well as traditional interpreters seem unembarassed by the fact that the Mahiibharata has nothing to offer but the mediations. The critical edition's aggressive attempt to come as close as possible to an original radically diverges in this respect from the traditional approach to the text. But as Hult puts i4 "For all its backward concentration, the critical edition is a modem literary act pointing toward a future readership and thus takes its place within a present day economy of literary production. "43 The same is true of the project of critically editing the

Mahabharata which can only be understood in its historical context. The late 19th and early 20th century was a time of an emerging national consciousness in South Asia. Unlike the Veda, the Mahabharata in its different versions was familiar to and cherished by large segments of Indian society allover India. Sukthankar did not use the tenn

"national" in the 1933 Prolegomena at all, but in a 1936 article published in the Annals of

the Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute he writes of "our Mahiibharata, the great epic of Bha:ratavar~a".44 Ronald loden has shown that the language of fragmentation and decay has played an important role in Orientalist rhetoric.45 For a text that is being proposed as the candidate for a national epic, the question of fragmentation must have been a delicate one, because the supposed fragmentary state of the national epic could be seen as reflecting the lack of national unity. A much later work by Sukthankar, published after

43Hult 1991, 125. 44Sukthankar 1936, 76. One wonders why he used the tean in the article and not in the Prolegomena. He might have felt that the readership of the article will be different from that of the Prolegomena. 45Inden 1990,169 ff., 185ff., 206 ff.,

20

independence. On the Meaning of the Mahabharata, presents the problem squarely. It begins by quoting a German Indologist: "The Mahabharata;' wrote Hennan Oldenberg, "began its existence as a simple epic narrative. It became, in the course of centuries, the most monstrous chaos. "46 Clearly. the project of critically editing the Mahabharata is an attempt by a scholar who studied in Europe and had interiorized the standards of Euro-centric culture through his education to address such negative assessments and to justify the Mahabharata somewhat in terms acceptable to scholars such as Oldenberg. The multiplicity of versions suddenly became a problem. and the figure of Vyasa in itself was no longer capable of perfonning the "author function:" The ultimate problem is to unify. as far as possible, this manuscript tradition: to evolve by comparative methods a form of the text that will explain this phenomenal wealth of divergent and conflicting texts" and

justify it.47 Justify to whom? Up to a point the project is addressed to the European scholarly establishment" but it is certainly not directed only at that audience. As he writes in the 1936 article, the Mahiihharata is our national epic." An edition of the Mahabharata that II

claims to belong to the people of India., that aspires to be more than regional or sectarian, must face the claims of different groups that have a stake in it. This is a time when a panIndian identity is claiming to replace regional and sectarian identities. Sukthankar himself points out that what distinguishes this edition from earlier ones is primarily the fact that it is exclusive instead of inc1usive. 48 Kesari Mohan Gangulj's English translation based on the

46S u kthankar

1957, 1.

47S u kthankar

1933, lxxvi. Italics mine.

48S ukthankar 1933, lxxx.

21

Bengali manuscripts and published by Pratapa Chandra Roy (1887-96) already faced this problem. In his Prolegomena Sukthankar quotes Roy's answer to the letter of a "Southern gentleman." The Southerner complained that Roy's edition was too favorable to Advaita and Visi~!lidvaita and not favorable enough to northern SaktiSI14 and that it omits many verses which the philosophers of the South cite in favor of their doctrines. Roy's reply, in essence, was: "You can't please everyone," and Sukthankar seems to sympathize a little, but not wholeheartedly."49 Throughout the Prolegomena Sukthankar is struggling with the issue of unity and diversity. On the one hand, he conceives of the diversity of the manuscript tradition as the problem, and of the critical edition as the answer to that problem. On the other hand, in the last part of the Prolegomena he seems to espouse positively that very same diversity: If the epic is to be a vital force in the life of any progressive people, it must

be a slow-changing book.50 To put it in other words, the Mahahhiirata is the whole of the Epic tradition, the entire Critical Apparatus. Its separation into the constituted text and the critical notes is only a static representation of a constantly changing epic text. 51 Sukthankar is clearly unable to resolve fully the dilemma of unity and multiplicity. One wonders whether his later book, "On the Meaning of the Mahabharata.," in which he basically argues for an allegorical reading of the text~ reflects a totaI frustration with the project of the critical edition.

49S ukthankar 1933. xxxi-xxxii.

50Sukthankar 1933, ci. 51Sukthankar

1933. cii. Italics mine.

22

But times have changed. I (being also very differently situated) am convinced that the critical edition of the Mahiihharata can serve purposes other than those originally intended by the people who conceived it. The dangers and limitations of a monolithic concept of nation are apparent today to many thoughtful persons. Recently, Indian intellectuals themselves have been critiquing Indian nationalist discourse for the exclusions it involves. 52 I believe that a dialogic reading of the Mahabharata., one that is sensitive to the variety of voices found within the textual tradition, may be useful in such discussions.

I use the tenn dialogic" in the sense introduced by the Russian thinker Mikhail I'

Mikhailovich Bakhtin (1895-1975). At the heart of Bakhtinls work is a concept of the diverse or multi-vocal nature of language: Language ... is never unitary. It is unitary only as an abstract grammatical system....Actual social life and historical becoming create within an abstractly unitary national language a multitude of concrete worlds, a multitude of bounded verbal-ideological and social belief systems.53 According to Bakhtin, at any given time., there are both centripetal, or unifying forces, the forces of official monoiogic language, and centrifugal forces, the dialogic forces which constantly create heterogeneity or heteroglossia, operating in discourse. 54 Because of his fondness for tenns such as "dialogue" "voice" and "multivocality," Bakhtin can easily be misunderstood as championing the primacy of the voice over written language., but this is a serious oversimplification. Whether spoken or written,

52For example Guha 1997. 53Bakhtin 1981, 288. 54Bakhtin 1981, 270-275.

23

What is important to us here is the intentional dimensions, that is the denotative and expressive dimension of the "shared" language's stratification. It is in fact not the neutral linguistic components of language being stratified and differentiated, but rather a situation in which the intentional possibilities of language are being expropriated: these possibilities are being realized in specific directions, filled with specific content, they are being made concrete, particular, and are penneated with concrete value judgments ... 55 Bakhtin considered the novel, which he defined as "a diversity of social speech type (sometimes even diversity of languages) and a diversity of individual voices, artistically organized," as the highest expression of the this "polyphonic" quality of language. The novel is the dialogic form par excellence.56 Both Euro-centric scholarship and nationalist scholarship sought the center of

Mahiibharta discourse, and felt uncomfortable with the centrifugal forces that they recognized within it. This study proposed to do just the opposite, to examine the forces for heterogeneity within the textual tradition.

I must therefore explain also how my work relates to another important strand in South Asian studies which is (perhaps a little too loosely) grouped under the tenn "structuralism." I will use the tenn to refer to scholars who consciously put aside historical considerations in an effort to unravel the "deep structure" underlying either a body of texts or even a whole cultural system. Such scholars are interested in decoding the "grammar" of the system as a whole (langue, in Saussure's terms), and not interested in any of its contingent historical events (parole, in Saussure's terms). Madeleine Biardeau, a prominent French Mahiibharata 55Bakhtin 1981 ~ 289.

56Bakhtin 1981, 262.

scholar~

seeks to go beyond the surface of the

24

Mahiihhiirata text to unravel the total meaning of the Mahiihharata as a monument of the cultural synthesis of classical Bhakti Hinduism. She considers each attested version of a certain myth to be the record of an oral performance., "parole" in Saussure's terms. She therefore argues that her object would best be achieved by bypassing (transcending?) the historical panicularity of these concrete textual

events~

through the juxtaposition of as many

versions as are available to us, whether they are found in different recensions~ in different places of the written tex~ or even in a recorded oral tradition that didn't enter the written text:

If now we consider the plot of the Mahahhiirata and its overall pattern, we can easily conceive of different recensions, and different versions inside those recensions, which have all the same thing to say, though they may say it somewhat differently, owing to the variation of local traditions... the major variations in the text are likely each to have its own significance

fitting into the whole. That is why it would be more fruitful to search out the meaning of each and every part of all versions rather than to try and reconstruct one text out of the existing many.51 Despite fundamental theoretical differences between the structuralist and some performance-oriented approaches~ structuralists cite the orality of the Mahahharata in support of their own position. As mentioned before, Biardeau has objected to the use of the reconstructed tex.t as the authoritative version. In her work she follows the Bedierian strategy and quotes the Vulgate text, based on the inclusive and eclectic text which was used by the 17th century NlIakagtha for his commentary't though she has suggested that a synoptic edition should be the ideal research tool. 58

57Biardeau 1970. 301 - 302., italics mine. lt

58 For this reason, the main concern of the editors should be to publish not only the

different recensions as they are, but also, when necessary, the different versions of each recension. It would be very useful if each text could be published in parallel." Biardeau 1970, 301-302. Such a synoptic edition is not yet available, and is not likely to be, because of the technical difficulty of producing one. I must also note that more recently, Biardeau

25

Biardeau's type of structuralism is exactly what Bakhtin calls "grammer" and considers an inadequate discription of how discourse operates. I agree with him. Whereas Biardeau posits a monolithic and encompassing Mahabharata

world~

another structuralist, Wendy Doniger, has treated in some of her works the manuscript tradition primarily as a storehouse of myth to be studied along with other South Asian mythic materials. As a resul4 the boundaries between the Mahabharta text and other South Asian discourses are blurred. Like Biardeau~ Doniger justifies her practice of lifting textual units out of their context on the grounds that the written text is only an artificial fIXing of the "real" tex4 the life of which takes place in the sphere of oral performance. 59 Despite these affinities, Doniger's work differs significantly from Biardeau's. Her structuralism (in some of her works complemented by psychoanalytical methods) is UviStraussian, and she has especially drawn on Levi-Strauss' tenet that myth grows out of the contradictions in the culture's classificatory systems. This focus on tensions and contradictions enables Doniger, in my view, to articulate much better certain complexities within the texts. Nevertheless, the analysis in tenus of Levi-Straussian logical oppositions is in my view still too restricting, because it leads to a static representation, suggesting a cultural deadlock. The best known example of this is Doniger's presentation of Siva as "the erotic ascetic. "60 I would not deny that such polarizations and deadlocks do occur. but we must start out with a model of text that allows also for the possibility of process and dialogue.

has changed her mind, and proclaimed that the Mahabharata had a single author. I do not consider this, however, to be her important contribution to Mahabharata scholarship (see Biardeau 1985, 28). 59Doniger 1988. 60Doniger 1973.

26

The attempt to liberate the text from the constrictions of its inscription in a linear fonn is characteristic of the structuralist approach. Following Saussure this intellectual tradition 7

differentiates the syntagmatic (sequential) dimension of a text from its paradigmatic (associative) dimension, and studies the latter. My objection to this practice follows Fredric Jameson's critique, namely, that this analytic separation suppresses the diachronic aspect of the text. the fact that it is an historical entity. 61 In the case of a text like the

Mahiibhiirata which involves centuries of textual production, the price of ignoring diachronic processes is even higher than usual. My project is largely an attempt to work out a method that can better account for the diachronic dimension within the textual tradition even though it is technically impossible to separate fully the historical layers in it.

Fin all y, a further comment must be made about the supposed orality of the

Mahabharata. Scholars of the Bedierian school such as Levi and Biardeau have argued that the Lachmannian method can not work with the Mahabhiirata, because it is an orally transmitted texts. Why the insistence that the Mahabharata is orally transmitted? Some recent claims for the orality of the Vyasa MahObhiirata are based on the work of Milman Parry and his student Albert Lord. 62 Daniel H. H. Ingalls, for instance has argued that since the Mahiibharata can be shown by statistical methods to be fonnulaic in Parry and Lord's sense, it must be orally composed. 63 I agree, however, with John D. Smith's argument that the Parry-Lord theory, as it is commonly applied, is logically flawed. Smith emphasizes that Parry and Lord did not just describe the composition techniques of a certain Yugoslav oral epic tradition, but also suggested that any text which

61 Jameson 1972.

62Lord 1960. 63Ingalls & Ingalls, 1985.

'27

is "formulaic" in the sense they defined~ must be that way because it has been orally composecL like the epics they recorded. This is faulty logic. Clearly, the statement "Some texts which are orally composed are formulaic" is not the equivalent of the statement "If a text is fonnulaic it is orally composed." Smith empirically shows that a cenain

tex~

and it

happens to be a South Asian text, exists which we know is not orally composed even though it is formulaic in Parry's sense. Furthermore, Smith points out that the bulk of recent work has been concerned with the application of the oral theory to early literature~ extant in writing, in order to prove its orality. 64 This faulty reasoning has only too easily been applied to the Mahabhiirata. To say that the Mahabhiirata is "reallyl1 an oral text is absurd. With such masses of manuscripts, how can anybody deny that writing is a factor? Writing and all that it implies culturally and politically is constitutive to the Mahahhiirata. That is not to say that only writing is a factor. Parts of the Mahabharata may have been composed orally. The Mahabharata has been and still is performed orally. Techniques originally used by oral perfonners may have played a significant role in detennining the fonn and content even of parts that were not strictly orally composed. But all this does not mean that the Mahabhiirata "is really oral." The Mahabharata was produced in an environment in which writing and orality were intertwined in very complex ways. The distinction between oral and written literature is misleading here, and in fact it does not hold for numerous important and influential texts. 65 Of course, the tendency in contemporary South Asian and other cultural studies to shift the focus of research from text to performance is not accountable only to Parry's influence. Scholars who perceive a connection between writing and domination want to

64S m ith 1977. 65See for instance Thomas 1992; Zumthor 1987.s

28

give voice to those devoid of access to power via writing by studying oral performance traditions. The relation between writing and domination is however itself a complex issue. In pre-modern South Asia the situation was especially complicated because the dominant

brahmanic culture itself had a complicated, ambivalent attitude to writing. One cannot simply identify oral culture and folk culture in a context where the text most connected with power, the 8,gveda, was jealously prevented from being written for a long time, and where sacred learning in general had to be transmitted orally from master to disciple. The shift in South Asian studies to more interest in orality and performance is welcome, as long as it does not foster the naively optimistic notion that by simply ignoring Sanskritic, brahmanic culture, we can make it and the hegemonic position it enjoyed during many periods of South Asian history go away. The nlogocentric bias" which Jacques Derrida has shown runs through Western intellectual tradition underlies some of this "discourse of orality." In his

Of Grammatology

Derrida analyses Rousseau's and Levi-Strauss' reflections on writing. His analysis brings to light a connection between a strand (in the Euro-centric intellectual tradition) of condemning culture because it is perceived to be based on domination, and a strand of condemning writing because it is perceived as the foundation of complex civilization. Derrida points to a "metaphysics of presence," or a belief that only un-mediated, direct communication, that is, oral communication, especially as it is imagined to take place in hypothetical primitive societies, can be undistorted by power relationships. Derrida's commentary on Levi- Strauss' "The Writing Lesson" is especially revealing because it shows that the condemnation of writing can be double-edged and can have an ethnocentric aspect. We can idealize "primitive societies" as we imagine they have been before they became exposed to "civilization," but that only seems to give us the right of contempt toward the real historical existence of these societies. Derrida himself rejects this

29

valorization of speech over writing, since in his analysis, any system of signs, whether it involves actual writing or not, is "inscribe~rr involves the mediation of the sign.66 I think Derrida is right on this issue. There is danger in reifying the oral-written dichotomy and in pretending that the oral realm is one of pristine beginnings, of innocence, of transparency, of authenticity and so forth .. while demonizing writing correspondingly as the source of all evil. In the South Asian case, the idea that the scribes are guilty of the

Mahabharata's supposed deterioration is linked with the Orientalist myth of the fall of Indian civilization after the Vedic period. In other words, Indians were all right, even noble, as long as they were illiterate nomads, but once they settled down and started to build a complex civilization they did it all wrong, introducing the caste hierarchy, a conupt priesthood and so forth. This study attempts to get away from the dichotomies and the otberings that are activated by locating the Mahabharata within such narratives. For instance, it is well wonh investigating the baggage that we unwittingly carry simply by calling the Mahabhiirata an epic. The tean marks the text with such double edged labels as "archaic," or "belonging to an heroic age," and draws us into a whole mythology of origins from which I prefer to keep my distance. Even sophisticated theoreticians such as Bakhtin structure their theory of literature around such myths of origins. For Bakhtin epic means "monologic," and is contrasted with (lyric) poetry. The y

tenn serves him as a foil for his notion of a "dialogic" text, for which the "novel, his It

favorite form (or I would say, counter-foan) is the most developed example. In Bakhtin's scheme, the epic is by definition the rigid voice of a dominant ideology which stifles the voice of the social other. While Bakhtin explored some premodern genres which he considered to be the precursors of the novet he never really made a study of any historic epic to show in what sense it really was monologic. 61 I hope to develop fully what has 66Derrida 1967. 67Bakhtin 1981.

30

already been hinted at by other scholars (Van Buitenen 1978: Shulman 1985,256-269, Shetty,. 1993), namely, that in Bakhtin's terms, there is much "novet" a strong dialogic dimension, in the so called Sanskrit epic. In fact, I doubt whether a pure "epic" in Bakhtin's sense ever existed. Derrida himself uses the tenn to designate that mythic pre-literary origin of the literary, even as he exposes the oppressive dimension of the longing to retrieve such a state.

In his scheme, which is somewhat different from Bakhtin's, epic and poetry are synonymous and stand for un-mediated communication:

If there is something in literature which does not allow itself to be reduced to the voice, to epos or poetry, one cannot recapture it except by rigorously isolating the bond that links the play of fonn to the substance of graphic expression. (It will by the same token be seen that "pure literature" thus respected in its irreducibility, also risks limiting the play, restricting it. The desire to restrict play is, moreover, irresistible ... 68 Derrida (unlike Bakhtin) is aware that the specific philosophical sense in which he uses the tenn epic in this passage cannot be properly applied to any historical textual entity. Certainly it can not be applied to one with a long manuscript tradition such as the

Mahabharata. This may be all for the better. Without the shadow of a pure epic either in Derrida's sense or in Bakhtin's sense, we may be able to appreciate the play of meanings so abundantly found in the real Mahabho.rata, the Mahabho.rata of "after the faIl," and we may also be able to face squarely the fact that the Mahabhiirata is an elite text. Being a Sanskrit text perfonned and written-down by Sanskrit speakers. probably mostly brahmans~

for an audience which had to be at least conversant with the Sanskrit language .. it

inevitably filters out the voices of those who did not have access to this prestige language.

68Derrida 1967, 59. Italics mine.

31

The Mahabharata is mostly concerned with kfatriyas and brahmans~ and is therefore far from being "folk literature" in Bakhtin's sense. It was the mouthpiece of groups that possessed.. or at least aspired to possess~ hegemony, namely kings and priests. It articulated ideas about power and claims to power. However~

it is always a mistake to conceive of the dominant group as a simple entity.

The Mahiibharata especially, since it was produced over a very long expanse of time and space and by multiple authors, bears the maries of the ideological struggles which those who aspired to the status of Iqatriya and brahama.T:za engaged in at different historical junctures. In this process many types of discourse were brought together dialogically, in the sense that when they were juxtaposed within the same flXed textual entity a dialogical relationship between them could emerge.

Well~

actually, Bakhtin's tenn "dialogical" is a

little too benign - "contestatory" more precisely describes the quality of the verbal interaction in many cases. Since this was the text of dominant groups, the text has become a "battle field" for cultural hegemony. And since at the time of the fonnation of the

Mahabhiirata brahmans were not the only contenders for royal patronage - the Buddhists and the 1ains were around and they had their own narratives of kings and dharma - the discourse of the Mahabharata is engaged with other, competing discourses, in particular, Buddhist and lains. In this study I hope to show that a story placed in a legendary past, before the beginning of the present cosmic age or yuga, a mythic narrative, if you will, can serve as the stuff with which controversies present at the time of its formation were debated. In the

Mahabharata, present issues could not be addressed directly. Nevertheless, the telling, retelling, elaboration and sometimes interpretation of the stories of old have enabled those who inserted their words into the textual tradition to address such issues indirectly. The complexity, and from my point of view, the fascination of the Mahiibharata arises specifically from the fact that it is not the work of a single person, circle or time. It is

32

a text that grew by expansion. The most decisive period of formation is about 400 BCE to 400 CE, but some of the materials in it may go further back in time and we know that it continued to be expanded even after the formative period was over. It is this very expansion process that enabled the textual tradition to be taken on by various agents with various agendas. My study examines some of the mechanisms of this process. This is why questions of textual identity, textual formation and fonn are so intimately connected with interpretative questions in the case of the Mahiibhiirata. If, as I will attempt to show, the multi- vocality of the text is intimately connected with the practice of textual expansion, one cannot try to weed out the later stuff with the hope that the older "core" will give us the ureal," Iforiginal" meaning. Similarly, one cannot try to rid the main narrative from the huge mass of secondary narratives attached to it, with the hope that the "main" narrative will give us the "main" meaning. It is precisely by examining the ways in which the later materials connect with the earlier ones that we will begin to recognize the agency of the anonymous authors and hear their voices. It is precisely in trying to understand why a secondary story is introduced at a certain juncture of the main narrative that we will get some idea of how the anonymous person who attached this secondary story at this point at some time understood and used the idiom of the Mahabharata.

I have divided my work into three chapters: Chapter One treats textual heterogeneity on the level of text criticism. As explained above, the classical task of the text-critic is to reconstruct the original text, and at any rate he or she is bound to concepts of textual unity and authorial intention. For my project, however, variations and expansions become more relevant the more they can be shown to constitute an intervention in the larger pre-existing unit's meaning. Essential to my work is my argument that the practice of constant textual expansion by insertion of new textual units into an existing linear text is constitutive of the Mahabharata textual tradition. It is

33

also essential to understand that on the larger scale, the extent and the quality of textual variation is not uniform. Some chunks of the tex~ even very large ones, are remarkably unifonn, suggesting not only the existence of a written archetype, but also fairly uneventful transmission/reception. Other portions., in contrast., have a single underlying version. a single archetype, but have attracted so many insertions that the underlying unity is less evident. For other portions still, no underlying archetype can be reconstructed. Even though the evidence supporting these facts has been available in the critical edition for some time, their significance for understanding the Mahahhiirata as a cultural artifact has not been appreciated. I show that the process of textual production/ transmission has been very different for different portions of the Mahabharata. To understand this situation is preliminary to an appreciation of the extremely composite quality of the Mahabharata as a textual entity. The last section of Chapter Ones is a study of a limit-case of two sets of doublets, or the repetition of a pair of nearly identical units, the Sixteen-Kings and Lady-Death units, which are each found in two different locations in the Mahiibhiirata. I show that in spite of a striking similarity, the two textual units are significantly independent, both formally and in their ideological stance., and that this distinctiveness is achieved by what I call "texture" or "surface qualities/' such as sequence, framing and so forth. In other words. I show that we can hear two distinct voices despite the sameness of the overall structure. The transmission history of each unit, as evidenced by the manuscripts't is also treated. I show that the scribes, who expanded amply on both units, clearly appreciated the distinct quality of each unit and respected it. The separate transmission history of the units is particularly revealing when the subject was such a universally widespread theme as Rama's rule, where the temptation to embellish by simply filling in the well known and beloved details of the Riimayar:za narrative is obvious. The point is that structuralist practices such as lifting textual units out of their place in the running text or assuming that different

34

"versions" tell basically the same story efface these complexities. If we approach the text with such presuppositions, we are bound to read it as monologic in Bakhtin's tenns. Chapters II and ill are devoted to exploring aspects of the heterogeneity of the

Mahabharata tradition. This means studying the specificity of selected units. I have deliberately chosen to represent the contrast between heroic concerns which predominate some parts of the Mahabharata and the priestly concerns which predominate other parts of the textual tradition. The manuscript traditions of the two books which I have chosen to study are almost at the opposite end of the spectrum in that one has evidently never been centrally redacted whereas the other seems to have a single archetype. It would be nice to be able to show that these differences in production account for the different concerns of these Parvans, but I don't think such a causal connection exists. Chapter Two deals with an aspect of the Mahiibharata's 8th book, the Kan:za

Parvan, which has so far drawn little scholarly attention. It addresses the rhetoric of heroic praise and blame and verbal duels. These are verbal perfonnances which typically take place right in the middle of a battle scene. Some are monologues uttered by the hero about to enter into combat. Pure monologues are rare, however. The hero is more likely to address his constant companion in battle, the charioteer, or to cry out loud to anybody present on the battlefield. Many exchanges involve two prospective combatants. Sometimes a third party is in vol ved, urging one or both of the heroes to fight hard. Verbal encounters between oon- combatant observers, such as the gods in heaven, are also found.

In this range of fonns, the verbal duel holds a place of honor, because of the obvious parallel between a combat of anns and a verbal "fight." The primary function of these perfonnances seems to be to work up the combatants into a state of fury, so that they will be able to perfonn super-nonnal~ heroic feats. The accompaniment of physical fights by verbal ones serves as "encouragement," both in the sense of the cheering of a crowd in a wrestling match and in a more specific magic or ritual

35

sense, a "quickening" effect. Here we begin to touch upon the complex semantic connections between battle and ritual which are invoked in various ways throughout the epic. The more complex exchanges go beyond this function into the realm of memory and reflection. One or both combatants, or a third party, will recollect verbally the reasons for the hostility between the parties. The limited battle scene is thus contextualized within the

Mahiihharata's larger narrative. We may get a glimpse into the state of consciousness of the side who is about to be killed, including his reflection on his own action and its motivations. We are allowed to contemplate alternative possibilities in the development of the plot. Some of the most complex among these exchanges, two of which I treat in detail. seem to be most concerned with enhancing the ambiguities of the situation. The figure of Kan:t~

of all the characters in the Mahiibhiirata, is perhaps the most inviting of such

playing-around with ambivalences, because of his unusual psychological complexity. The fascination with ambiguities is however not restricted just to the figure of KarQa. but extends even to one of the most central figures of the Mahiibharata., to

Yudhi~thira

himself. Chapter Three is the most ambitious chapter of this study. It describes a rhetorical form which I call "contestatory discourse" and explores its function in the fourteenth book of the Mahabharata, the Aivamedhika Parvan. The name "contestatory discourse" is intended to suggest two characteristics. First, that such discourse is associated with agonistic or "contestatorylt ritual practices. Second, that it has to do with the contestation of ideologies. It involves the intertextual deployment of units of discourse against each other, so as deliberately to draw out their difference. This discursive activity is conceived of by its practitioners as an essential part of sacrificial ritual (yajna), understood by them in a specific sense which I will explain. I argue that in the Aivamedhika Parvan, this discursive pattern plays a constitutive role. It is quite central to the Parvan's thematics as well as to its textual organization. This

36

chapter of my study is thus also a reading of the Asvamedhika Parvan, or the Book of the

Horse Sacrifice - a task which has never been systematically undertaken, despite the fact that a number of scholars have looked at portions of the Parvan for various purposes. The

Aivamedhika Parvan is one of those Parvans which seems at first a rather rambling collection of heterogeneous materials of the kind that gave rise to the image of the

Mahabharata as a Uliterary monster."69 Because of their thematic or structuralist nature, none of these prior studies attempted to describe the nature of the textual dynamics which hold the Parvan together. This is the task I have undertaken in Chapter Three. I read the apparently diverse units of the Parvan as dialogically engaged in the ideological problematic around which the Parvan revolves. The Aivamedhika Parvan narrates the events of the aiva-medha, or horse-sacrifice, which the protagonists of the Mahabharata offered after their terrible victory, a victory won at the price of the lives of most of the warriors on both sides. As is well known, the frrst part of this royal sacrifice involves sending a horse to roam over the land for a year, accompanied by an anny, with the understanding that the rulers of any part of the country through which the horse passes will become subjects of the king who is offering the sacrifice unless they attack the horse, thereby challenging the sacrificing king to battle. The part of the Parvan which describes the sacrifice itself involves mostly a description of the itinerary of the horse's wondering and quite a number of battle scenes .. but the greater bulk of the Parvan is concerned with speculations about the nature of sacrifice and a dhanna based on sacrifice. Precisely because of this juxtaposition of the sacrificial and the heroic, the Aivamedhika Parvan is a good place to approach the question of the Mahiibhiirata's unity or textual integrity. I contend that in the Aivamedhika Parvan, the impression of heterogeneity is a result of the deliberate juxtaposition of radically different discourses. Rather than being arbitrary, such juxtaposition is appropriate in a Parvan which is about a 69Winternitz 1927,326.

37

contestatory rite. I read the Aivamedhika Parvan as an arena in which the work of

defining and redefining a dharma around the tenn "yajna" and against the nastikas' nonsacrificial dhannas of the time took place. The authors are trying to square the circle of the intimate connection between sacrifice and battle, or between their understanding of the socio-cosmic order, dharma, and violence, hirpsQ.

38

Chapter One Varieties of Textual Variation

1.1. From Variation to Growth Through Reflexivity

When the manuscripts within a textual tradition do not all variation.

Clearly~

agree~

we speak of textual

the range of complexity of the phenomena so defined is great. The

extent of the disagreement can be of a single letter or of a whole book. Some disagreements are clearly due to a scribe's

rnistak:e~ others~

to other reasons such as the

practices of oral performers? or to a deliberate change introduced into the manuscript tradition by a scribe. Sometimes a difference of one word or phrase can make a radical difference in sense, and sometimes the opposite: parallel units in two different manuscripts rt

may tell practically the "same story or make practically the "same" philosophical points, though they employ altogether different words. The latter type of variation, called "substitute passages" or "parallel running versions," can also vary in extent. Sometimes a certain textual unit may be present in one manuscript and absent from another. In most cases, such a passage will be considered an tlinterpolation," an "insertion" or an "expansion" (the appropriateness of these terms will be further discussed below). In some cases, the same events may be recountecL or the same ideas expounded, and perhaps even the same or almost the same words are used, but the order or sequence of the narrative or lt

didactic units may differ. This is called a "transposition or a "sequence variation.

It

39

Even when looking at only two manuscripts. broader textual patterns such as frequency of variation should be taken into account. Large scale distribution of the variations should be distinguished from local irregularity. This or that verse, this or that short episode. may for some reason be particularly dense with variation, though the larger unit within which it is set may be fairly unifonn - and vice versa. On the other hand, variations of a certain type may be common in ODe large unit such as, in the case of the

Mahiibharata, a Parvan, and virtually non-existent in another. Finally, all of these types of variations quite often occur in combination. What on a larger scale appears as a case of a parallel-running texts may also involve smaller-scale sequence variation. In the case of the Mahabhiirata, the local single-word or single-phrase type of variation is virtually omnipresent, whether the manuscript tradition is otherwise

regular or not. Furthennore, in the case of the Mahabharata, the vast number of extant manuscripts greatly amplifies the complexity of the simation which we have hypothetically described as involving only two manuscripts. It is not at all uncommon that the manuscript tradition will attest not two but fifteen alternative possibilities for a single word or phrase. Even when a certain chapter or verse is peculiar to a group of related manuscripts, we may find that between themselves these manuscripts will locally disagree about a smaller unit. An original written text from which all the manuscripts in a group of manuscripts can be shown to have descended is called a (primary) archetype for these manuscripts. 1 When a textual tradition has had such an archetype, it can be very useful to reconstruct a tree-like diagram representing the hypothetical branching out of the manuscripts. The work of reconstruction may be hindered, or even totally

baffled~

however, by the practice of cross-

borrowing between the branches of the manuscript tradition ("contamination," as it is called

1An

archetype for a sub-group of manuscripts is c:!lled a secondary archetype.

40

by editors intolerant of textual practices which do not serve their ends). Sometimes? furthermore, and this appears to be the case for some of the Parvans of the Mahabhiirata., independent oral transmission over a long period and separate commitment to the writing of local traditions has taken place. In such cases., the notion of a single original and therefore correctn text is groundless, so that stemmatics is not only ineffective but It

completely misleading. In the Introduction we have discussed the difference between the Lachmannian and the Bedierian schools of textual criticism. The fIrst school is based on the simplistic assumption that texts are derived from an archetype. The second recognizes that for many texts this is not the case. The solution that it offers., to chose a best manuscript and print it~ is also unsatisfactory.

In this chapter I show that certain types of textual phenomena testify to textual practices which simply defy the underlying assumption of stemmatics. For example., when a substantial textual unit is repeated in two different places of the same manuscript (often with minor or major change), it is instructive to think of the repetition as a kind of tex.tual variation, in this case occurring not between manuscripts but within the same manuscript. Repetition is closely related to variation in sequence.

v. S. Sukthankar has already done in his Prolegomena the work of establishing a detailed typology of textual variation in much greater detail than I would ever wish to go into.2 I have drawn freely on his exposition., both for terminology and for the convenience of the many examples he supplies. This will have the advantage of enabling me also to use his exposition in order to raise methodological issues.

A product., among other things, of the German (Lachmmanian) school of textual criticism, Sukthankar often treats variation and especially expansion unsympathetically.

2S ukthankar 1933 CM.Bh. BOR! vol. 1, "Prolegomena")., xxxi-xlvii, especially xxxvii-xlv.

41

This is obvious from the occasional use of terms such as "deviation~"3 tlinterpolation.tr4 "contamination,"S Itcorruptiontr6 and even "derangement."7 In the part of the

Prolegomena where he compares the Northern and Southern recensions, he treats expansion~

or as he calls it, "inflation," as a vice to which the Southern scribes were

particularly prone, though he later somewhat qualifies this position. 8 My own approach is different. In this section I will argue for a continuity between the dynamic poetics tha underlie the Mahabharata's narrative logic and those that underlie

the process of expansion as revealed by analysis of the manuscripts. Sukthankar has already recognized this continuity: The view that the epic has reached its present form by a gradual process of addition and alteration receives strong support from the fact that the process is not stopped by scriptural flXation. 9 Sukthankar nevertheless continued to regard the expansion process as a distortion, whereas I treat it as a source suggestive of the practices of textual production which shaped the Mahabharata even in its earlier formative period, a period which we cannot directly

3S ukthankar 1933, lxxxvii. 4Sukthankar 1933. Ixiii; lxxv. c, ci, etc .. 5Sukthankar 1933, Ii; lvii; Iviv; lxxxiv, etc .. 6S ukthankar 1933, lxiv; Lxxxiv, etc .. 7Sukthankar 1933, Ixxvi. 8Sukthankar 1933, xxxii-xlvii. See below section 1.2.2.3. for a detailed discussion of what is going on here. After editing the Ara1J.yaka Parvan and finding that its Northern recension is more "inflated" than its Southern, he retracted on this point. 9S ukthankar 1933, lxxvi.

42

trace through manuscripts, since the earliest extant ones are probably from the 15th century. This section is designed to lead the reader into recognizing these continuities and appreciating their complexities. Once this is done~ Chapter One will proceed to complicate our analysis of variation in ways which more radically defy the distinctions made by Sukthankar. We will eventually focus our attention on an example in which the analytical tools offered by terms such as variation or expansion are clearly useless. Why choose to focus on such limit cases? After all~ they could just be freaks of the textual tradition, places where things have gone a little awry. The weight of this chapter's argument is to convince the reader that this is not the case, that on the contrary, precisely in those places where the text gets entangled with itself, so to speak, we can get a glimpse of the Mahabharata in the making of the ideological battles which were fought in and 7

through its production/transmission. This will lead us toward the argument made in the following chapters of my study, namely, that such complex cases of variation are most fruitfully approached as a subcategory of the larger phenomena of textual heterogeneity and ideological contestation which are the subject of this study.

1.2. A Typology of Variations

1.2.1. Minor Variations (Different Readings) 10 Open the critical addition of the Mahabharata at random and you will find that the

text is accompanied by an apparatus. M.Bh. BOR! XIV .2.1, for example, reads: 11

lOSukthankar 1933, xxxvii-xxxviii. 11 I avoid the fIrst adhyaya since things get more complicated at the beginning and at the end of a Parvan.

43

evam uktas tu rajiUi sa dhrtar~treQa dhlmati tii~IJlm babhiiva medhavl tam uvacatha kesaval:t

Thus addressed by the learned king

DImar~tra

The wise Kesava fell silent at frrst~ and then spoke: This verse, taken from a relatively unifonn book, the Aivamedhika Parvan, is as common and as straightforward as an epic verse can get. Nevertheless, the critical apparatus tells us that K6, B 1, 0 (except DC 1, D 1), G 1, M all read raja instead of rajna; Treads (a)tha. and G2 read (a)sau for sa;

S1 reads dhrtara$trena for dhrtaraoftre1J.a;

D3

reads tu.wlm and D4 tU$T.Zim for tii~I.1im; SI, KI,K3 and K5 reads nrpatis for medhiivl; K4 reads keiava for kesavab.. Some of these variations are simply scribal errors or spelling variations. For instance,

tu$T.Zlm and tii$l)im. as well as dhrtarQ,ftrena are straightforward spelling mistakes, and keiava in the vocative does not make any sense in the context because we know that the addressee in this scene is Janamejaya, not ~Qa. Others fall quite neatly into the category of variations that Albert Lord, following his mentor Milman Parry ~ has shown to be typical of formulaicaUy composed texts. 12 The reading raja (nominative) for rajfia (instrumental) is an acceptable alternative reading, since the subject of the sentence,

Kr~lJa.

being the chief of the Yadus, is a king of sorts, and

thus raja could qualify him, rather then king Yudhi~t.hira (even though

Kr~IJa's

royal status

is contested, and even though Yudhisthira is certainly the more paradigmatic king in this exchange), To have nominatives (raja sa) in one pada and instrumentals (dhrcara${rer;a

12Lord 1960. As I explain in my Introduction, the stronger claim, that if a text is formulaic then it is orally composed, is problematic.

44

dhfmatii) in the second may feel smoother than to alternate between instrumentals and nominative as the reconstructed text does (rajna sa dhrrari4p-eT)a dhlmatii). Since sa in

any case carries no meaning in this context and functions simply as a metric space-fiUer, the metrically heavy (a)sau, which means the same as sa, may replace it in this

position~

achieving a more regular metric pattern, and this may have motivated this change. Similarly the light (a)tha., which often carries little meaning., can stand in the same place as sa without any change of meaning, perhaps interrupting a little less than the sa does the

sequence of instrumentals in rajfiii sa dhrtar~tre1)a dhlmata. There is no end to such variations in the Mahiibharata. For the whole Adi Parvan of over 8,000 verses, for instance, Sukthankar was able to record only 30 verses (!) for which no variants whatsoever have been found. 13 The great majority of such local variations make little difference to the sense of the larger linguistic unit., just like the (a)tha alternative for sa in the above example. Very rarely, a single-word variation may indeed make some difference, as when the Southern recension has Atjuna exiled for twel ve months (masiinzl rather than for twelve years (var$ii~i).14 This study will, from now on, ignore such minor variations unless they are compounded with some other problem that is of more concern.

1.2.2. Expansions and Omissions 15 The critical editors of the Mahlibharata considered passages which occur in some branch or branches of the manuscripts and not in all of them to be most probabl y

13S ukthankar 1933, lxxxviii- xci. 14S ukthankar

1933, xxxviii.

15S ukthankar 1933~ xxxviii-xlvii.

45

"expansions."16 In other words, they are supposed to have been at some point insened by a scribe into an already existing running text that scribe had received and was copying. Expansion was a very common practice at least in the case of some of the Parvans; for some Parvans, the reconstituted text is shorter than Appendix I, to which relatively longer passages suspected of being insertions were relegated! It was often done quite artfully, in a seamless way. Most expansions would be impossible to detect without the comparison of manuscripts. This, as well as the inclusivist tendency of the scribes - in other words, their preference to include a passage in the new manuscript that they were preparing even if they were aware that not all manuscripts had that passage - ensured that expansions ended up being integrated into all derived manuscripts, and often spread into other branches of the manuscript tradition. We thus must depend on stemmatics, the comparison of all extant manuscripts and the tracing of their branching out process, to identify expansions with any degree of certitude.

1.2.2.1. The Problem of Expansion Versus Omission: On the face of it, when a passage is found to be present in one branch of manuscripts and absent from another, it seems just as reasonable to consider that it has been omitted from the second branch as to suppose that it was inserted into the flfSt. The editors of the critical edition have not gi ven equal weight to each of these possibilities. Why? Before we go into this, however, it must be clear that at issue are only deliberate omissions. The manuscripts contain many cases of accidental omission, and these are easily identifiable. For example: often the reason for the omission is evident, as with the common scribal error of skipping to the next occurrence of a repeated opening formula. In such cases the similarity has caused the scribe's eye to skip down a portion of the text.

16The tenns "insertions" or "interpolations" are also used. I prefer "expansion," the most neutral of the three terms.

46 When a leaf or more of the manuscript is lost, the text is likely to be strangely cut off and

to resume at a totally arbitrary point, and if we have the manuscript from which it was copied, it is obvious that a whole page has been skipped. Accidental omissions will occur either in a single manuscript or in a group of evidently related manuscripts. There are, however, many cases when a whole episode or adhyaya is present only in some of the manuscripts, and both versions seem equally seamless. Positive proof that either a deliberate omission or a deliberate insertion has occurred is hard to produce in such cases. Nevertheless, Sukthankar and most other editors thought that omission is unlikely, though they did not exclude the possibility altogether. One of the editors, Franklin Edgerton, took an even stronger position. He claimed that he had not seen any deliberate omissions in the Mahiibharata and that therefore, he considered them almost impossible. 17 The problem is much more fundamental than it may seem at first, because it is built into the very principles of stemmtics underlying the critical edition. Let us reconsider the two basic editorial rules laid out by Sukthankar and followed throughout the edition: (a) Universal attestation: "To accept as original a reading or feature which is documented unifonnly by all manuscripts alike." 18 (b) When in doubt, follow N: "When the two recensions have alternate readings

neither of which can have come from the other and which have equal intrinsic merit, I have for the sake of consistency and for the sake of avoiding unnecessary and indiscriminate fusion of versions, adopted as a stop gap the reading of the Northern recension." 19

17He does admit that "the older the borrowal [sic] and the more interesting the passage borrowed, the wider will be the area over which it will spread in its new habitat. It then becomes difficult to prove the borrowal ... rr but does not draw the necessary radical conclusions from it. Sukthankar 1933, lxxxi. 18Sukthankar 1933, lxxxvi - xci. 19Sukthankar 1933, xci.

47

What is the reasoning behind the fIrst rule (which we shall from now on call "the rule of universal attestation")? Since stemmatics is a historical method, in the sense that it aims at reconstituting the earliest fonn of the text possible, adopting this rule is equivalent to the

assumption of insertion rather than omission in all but the most obvious cases. If omission was highly prevalant, if manuscripts were constantly losing verses in the copying process~

would it not be reasonable to take the fuller version as earlier and more original?

And indeecL Sukthankar posed the rule because he believed that the scribes were strongly inclined to inclusion, not to exclusion. But could Sukthankar and Edgerton possibly be mistaken? Perhaps they never encountered omissions not because they do not exist but because they lacked the tools to recognize them?

A new angle on the problem could be gained by the following thought exercise. What if a substantially long and self-contained textual unit were universally accepted into the manuscript tradition at a late point in the Mahabharata's history? The rule of universal attestation would prevent us from recognizing such a case a priori! But why shouldn't such a situation be possible? Consider a popular text such as the Bhagavadgna. Is it so improbable that it has been inserted at some point into a preexisting received tex4 probably

a battle narrative, and that it had simply spread into all branches of the manuscript tradition precisely because of its popularity? The extant manuscripts do not go very far back in time since the earliest dated manuscript is from 1511 C.E.,20 and the G[ta reached its preeminent position no later than by Sankaracarya's time or the the 9th century C.E..21 If

20S ukthankar

1933, vi.

21Mahadevan, 141.

48

such universal incorporation has occurred before any manuscript extant to us, we would never detect it through analysis of extrinsic evidence. 22 The example of the Bhagavadglta points to the likelihood of universal incorporation. But perhaps simply to argue the likelihood of a universal insertion is to make an absolutely unfaIsifiable, and therefore "unscientific" claim? My argument would certainly be much solider if I could point to such and such a passage as a definite case of universal insertion. This, unfortunatly, is in principle impossible to do since every verse that occurs in all the manuscripts could theoretically be a universal insertion. I can, however, do the second best thing to it. I can point to a concrete example that proves that universal insertion is very very likely. Consider the following. All cases in which only some of the manuscripts contain a passage can theoretically be placed along a continuum. Obviously, the fewer the manuscripts (or branches of manuscripts) in which the problem passage appears the more certain can we be that expansion has occurred. The greater the number of attestations, on the other hand, the less positive can we be that it is an expansion and not an omission. Now

22r am in fact not the frrst person to raise the question of universal incorporation. Paranjpe, the editor of a single minor Parvan, the strl Parvan, has raised exactly this specter. He argues that the single stri Parvan Appendix I. 44-line long passage, which is found in most KaSmlri and Bengali manuscripts is an example of both universal acceptance of a unit and a deliberate omission! He argues that the first eight adhyayas of the Strf Parvan. known as the Viioka sub-parvan, are late. The Viioka sub-parvan is attested in all manuscripts, but not mentioned in the Parvasa1!lgraha; some Northern manuscripts suggest by their colophons that the Viioka was considered a separate unit preceding the Strl Parvan. Based on these considerations Paranjpe suggests that at some relatively late point the Viioka sub- parvan was universally accepted into all branches of the tradition. He argues that the adhyaya relegated to Appendix 1. which deals more succinctly with the same subject matter as the Viioka uni~ was original, and that after the acceptance of the Viioka Parvan, the Southerners felt that it was redundant and so they omitted it. The fact that the Southern recension is here charged with "suppression on the ground of redundancy is worth noting of itself, since there have been so many charges that the Southern recension tends to inflation and repetition. See M.Bh. BOR! volume 12, xxiii-xxvi. II

49

my point is that as we approach universal

anestation~

omission as an alternative explanation

becomes more conceivable. Imagine the case of a passage occurring in all but one manuscript. If we

insist~

like

Edgerton, that the scribes would never deliberately omit a passage, we would have no choice but to assume that the passage has been inserted in all but one manuscript. But if we admit that an expansion couId have penetrated all but a single manuscrip4 could not another expansion have penetrated all manuscripts? Thus, the question of omission and the question of universal insertion are logically intertwined. Now it just so happens that a case of attestation in all but one manuscript of a substantial textual unit is actually found in the Mahabharata. A very long and interesting passage is attested in all but one Siradi manuscript (and a Devanagari version of the same) of the DroTJ.(l Parvan. Following the rule of universal attestation, the editor, S. K. De, has relegated this passage to Appendix I. De sensed, perhaps, that in this case to follow the rule blindly is a little problematic, so he also justified this editorial decision by the argument that the unit in question is inferior and that it looks like a reworking, a "repetition" of units already present in the Santi Parvan. The editors themselves recognize, however, that repetition cannot serve as a valid criterion of itself. When all manuscripts support a passage, the editorial practice has been to include it whether they regarded it as a "repetition" or not, and the fact is that the consistent application of this very editorial principal has established that the Mahabharata abounds with nrepetitions:' Being a "repetition" can therefore hardly mark a passage as Itextraneous." Moreover, the simple applicability of the term "repetition" is questionable in this case, as I shall argue in section

I.4. My concern is not to demand the inclusion of the passage in the reconstituted text -this would be a futile exercise - but to argue a theoretical point. If we insist that the passage in question is an insertion, than we must admit the likelihood of universal

50

acceptance of passages into the preexisting manuscript tradition. The realization that any passage in the "reconstituted text" may in principle be a latter expansion should caution us not to draw too strong a distinction between the reconstructed text and the materials which have been relegated to Appendix I. No doubt, many or even most of the textual materials relegated to Appendix I are late arrivals in the written Mahabharata tradition, but they could have been in circulation long before they entered the Mahabharata manuscripts. On the other hand, there is an important sense in which not just some, but most of the

materials of which the reconstituted text itself consists should be considered to be "expansions." We must begin to think of expansion as a practice constitutive to the

Mahabharata, and not as an aberration of [he tradition. One of Sukthankar's best fonnulations is: To put it in other words, the Mahabharata is the whole o/the Epic tradition.

the entire Critical Apparatus. Its separation into the constituted text and the critical notes is only a static representation of a constantly changing epic text ... 23 Sukthankar, of course, never recommended a simplistic use of the reconstructed text as a working tool. A cereful reading of the Introduction shows an ambivalence on

Sukthankar's part. Elsewhere he claims that the reconstituted text is Hthe oldest fonn of the text which it is possible to reach on the basis of the manuscript material available. "24 In what sense is the reconstituted text "a form" of the text? Is it an approximation, or an ideal reconstruction? Perhaps the rule of universal attestation is nothing but a political compromise. Mer aIl~ when there is concensus among all members of the community of interpreters, the best course is just to let things be. Sukthankar, however, only half

23Sukthankar 1933, cii. Italics mine. 24Sukthankar 1933, lxxxvi.

51

heartedly admitted this dimension of the enterprise of critically editing the Mahabharata. 25 He remained hovering between stemmatics' claim to scientific objectivity and a cautious recognition of the nationalist objectives of the project. From a different historical vantage poin~ one can see that the method of stemmatics~ designed to uncover the original, the archetype, of a manuscript tradition, allows us only to to scratch the surface of the phenomenon of textual expansion. We will never be able to measure quantitatively the depth of this phenomenon, or to reach its bottom in the shape of a truIly original archetype, but we do know that the Mahiibhiirata is a text which grew, which became what it is by expansion. The expansion practices which we can trace through stemmatics are probably similar to the expansion practices through which much of the so called reconstituted text of the Mahiibharata was produced. 1.2.2.2. Types of Expansion: Let us therefore set aside the big theoretical issues for a while and take a closer look at cases that we know for certain to be expansions. Again, I use Sukthankar's classification of examples taken from the Southern recension as a convenient starting point. a) Multiplication of the items of a list. For example, it is said that V asi~tha's cow could fulfill every desire. An expansion supplies a detailed list of the edibles and commodities which she was able to furnish (1.165. *1753). b) Repetition or anticipation of stories, motives or discourses. The story of Amb3: narrated in the Udyoga Parvan (V. 170- I97) is anticipated in the Southern recension by passage 55 of Appendix I of the Adi Parvan. c) Filling in the details of a ritual (e.g. 1.68. *625; 1.92. *921)

25See

also my Introduction pp. 19-21.

52

d) Addition of speeches detailed descriptions and other digressions." This is one of It

7

Sukthankar's more loosely defined categories but it covers some of the more interesting 7

cases of expansion. Here are some of the examples he adduces:

In the account of the churning of the ocean, the Southern recension also tells that on that occasion Siva drank the poison which came out of mouth of the serpent Yasuki's (Appendix I, No.9). The Southern recension describes in detail how Siirya persuaded the shy and reluctant KuntT to have sex with him (Appendix I. No. 59). The Southern recension depicts the death of PagQu (Appendix I, No. 68-69). Some detailed battle descriptions are peculiar to the Southern recension (e.g., Appendix I, No. 78, 93). The passages peculiar to the Southern recension contain alternative explanations for Draupadi's polyandrous marriage (Appendix 17 No. 100, 101). e) Additions of moral discourses, ethical maxims and so forth. f) Some elaborations on the description of feminine beauty. These, Sukthankar

observes, are peculiar to the Southern recension, attesting to the decadence of Southern culture. g) The Southern recension depicts a semi-secret marriage ceremony between Dul}~anta and SakuntaHi 0.67.*610), Yayati and Sarmi~tha (1.77.*807), Subhadra and

AIjuna (Appendix I, No. 114), Parasara and SatyavatT (Appendix I. No. 36) (Thus legitimizing Bharata, Puro, Abhimanyu and Vyasa respectively). h) "Filling out of lacunae." Again, a pretty nebulous category. Sukthankar mentions, for instance, passage 79 of Appendix I, which supplies an account of Drupada's birth.

1.2.2.3. Inner Textual Expansion or Interpretation: That Sukthankar's classifications are somewhat arbitrary does not matter so much. A more serious problem is his eagerness to dismiss as insignificant or even to condemn as inferior literature

53

anything that he considers to be suspect, on the grounds of manuscript evidence, of being a later addition to the text. In this particular part of the Prolegomena, this eagerness is unfortunately also combined with a peculiar version of the Orientalist meta-narrative of the historical deterioration of Indian culture, according to which the poor Southerners are the culprits. For instance. expansions which elaborate on descriptions of feminine beauty, Sukthankar describes as n Additional stanzas in S with, perhaps, a cenain amount of sexual appeal, bearing the taint of later decadence." To read Sukthankar, one would think that the Southern scribes were pedantic, legalistic, given to endless digression, both obsessed with sexuality and too prudish about sexual matters, and so on. These particular passages of the

Prolegomana attest to a sad psychological fact. Sukthankar, with all his great learning of Sanskrit literature, has internalized the negative stereotypes with which OrientaIist discourse is rife, and in order to distance his own (idealy Pan) Indian identity from what he finds embarassing about the Mahabharata, he tries to make the "decadent" South Indian pundits responsible for these aspects. In Sukthankar's defence it must be said that after editing the Ara1J.yaka Parvan and finding that its Northern recension is more lIinflated" than its Southern, he qualified his position. 26

In fact, most of these "decadent" tendencies are arguably just as typical of the Northern expansions. While I would not exclude the possibility that a detailed study might reveal some minor differences in regional patterns of textual expansion - it may instance~

be~

for

that the procedure of secretly marrying unwed mothers of famous forefathers is a

peculiar Southern invention - I am nevertheless convinced that every one of the larger categories of expansion described by Sukthankar is found in the Northern manuscripts as well. If anything, the difference is of extent, not of quality, and even in that regard, the

26See below section 1.3.2.

54

Southern recension is not consistently prone to expand more than the N onhern. One can very easily pick passages from the reconstituted text which would be as susceptible to the charges of repetition, anticipation of later events, systematization or moralizing as the passages which have been relegated to Appendix. I. Is every verse in the reconstituted

Siinti Parvan really that necessary for conveying the general sense? Are not most of the stories of the AraJJ.yaka Parvan digressions? Isn't most of the "snake lore" of the Adi

Parvan a digression? Do we really need all the genealogies of the Ad; Parvan? Is not the whole story of Ambi, even as it is narrated in the Udyoga Parvan, nothing but a way of anticipating and explaining BhI~ma's death, and thus "extraneous" to the core narrative? Let me put it more strongly. Suppose we were somehow to purge the Mahabharata of every passage that is concerned with enumeration of items on lists, with anticipation of and explanation of coming events, with rituals and ritual imagery and symbolism, with speeches, with descriptions, with digressions, with moralizing and philosophizing about human action, with erotically charged situations... Suppose we were to do away with attempts to legitimize in tenns of DharmaSastra older traditions which attest to archaic and non-DharmaSistric practices, and with materials that are concerned to prove the legitimacy of the lineage of that rather hazy emerging cultural-political entity that the Mahabharata is struggling to define ... Suppose we attempted to do away with attempts to "fill out lacunae" ... What would we have left? Nothing at all, I suspecL This is the stuff the

Mahiibharata is made of. Even if we were able somehow to identify the "rock bottom" of the tex~ the short epic from which the longer text has grown, we might discover that this short seed text would be lacking most of what makes the Mahiibharata the Mahiibharata. This is not to say that Sukthankar was altogether wrong in sensing that for some of the examples that he provides, the poetic principles of textual construction by expansion have reached, we might say, a point of diminishing returns. But he seems to be all too eager to extend this negative judgment to as many expansions as possible. We shall see

55

that some expansions are not quite as uninteresting as one might expect from his presentation of the matter. A correlate of this eagerness to dismiss any passage suspected of being an insertion is his inability to see that the logic of expansion observed through analysis of the manuscripts penneates some of the most important and integral parts of the

Mahiibharata. Even if we assume, along with Sukthankar that a fmal redaction of the whole text, a t

final fonnative stage, did take place, still one has to admit that the product of this act of closure was itself already very much a patch work of genres and discourses, originating from different social circles and periods. Discursive heterogeneity would be constitutive of the final redacted text, not a product of later textual manipulation or imposition. Therefore, the identification and the isolation of this or that passage as an expansion by text-critical means are useful, but these measures only begin to scratch the surface of the

Mahiibharata's textual heterogeneity. The continuation of the expansion process that the manuscripts attest to should not be thought of as a deviation but as the last breaths of the vigorous cultural impetus which produced the Mahabharata. To dismiss and condemn these expansion practices is therefore to ignore some of the most importance aspects of the Mahabharata, aspects which make the M ahiibhiirata the unique and fascinating text that it happens to be. The digressive and reflexive quality of the Mahabharata, the peculiar way in which the

Mahabharata text grows into itself. interprets itself, and questions itself from within itself, needs to be studied with an open mind if the Mahiibhiirata is to be understood. I would venture to call this dynamic quality "inner textual expansion, or perhaps, "inner II

textual interpretation," and it is the subject of this dissertation. I use the term "interpretation" quite deliberately and in a somewhat peculiar sense. An interpretation of a narrative can include anything from a grammatical analysis or a philosophical explanation,

56

to another story which is produced either to expound on that story's

meaning~

or to counter

a possible undesirable reading of it.

1.2.2.4. The Mahabharata's Frame Structure and its Ritual Context: 27 As is well known~

the Mahabharata reports that its first main telling took place at king Janamejaya's

snake sacrifice (sarpasattra) at the city ofT~aSiHi On that occasion the brahman Vaisruppayana recited the story of Bharata to the yajam.ana king, Janamejay~ Parlk~it's son. The author of the Mahiibharata, Vaisarppayana's teacher, Vyasa, was present at this fIrst

telling~

and his silent presence lent authority to the line of transmission. This main

narration-frame is however contained in an outer-most narration-frame which, among other things, greatly elaborates on the circumstances of the frrst narration, and specifies more briefly the circumstances of its own narration of the Mahabharata. This second narration took place during the sage Saunaka's sattra at the Naimi~a forest. Here the sura UgraSravas narrated the story of the battle of the Bharatas~ which he himself has heard from Vaisaqlpayana at Janamejaya's sacrifice, to the brahmans participating in the sattra.

In a highly suggestive 1989 article, C. Z. Minkowski fonnally analyses the sophisticated use of frame stories and of sustained embedding in the Mahiibharata. Among other things, Minkowski observes resonances between the theme of sacrificially destroying all snakes in a grand snake sacrifice, and the theme of the destruction in battle of the whole Iqatriya race in the great battle at

Kuru~etra..

He points out that the frequent

breaks in the sacrificial procedures, during which the yajamana must remain in his consecrated state~ made long sacrificial sessions such as sattras a suitable situation for the narration of a long text like the Mahabharata. Minkowski also points out that "embedding is not simply a phenomenon found at the borders of the Mahabhiirata. It is a narrative technique employed throughout." Books 6-9 and part of book 10, for instance are narrated

27The frame has already been briefly discussed in the Introduction.

57 by Saiijaya to Dhrtar~tra, and the vocatives of address such as Bharata Raja etc. are 7

spread so thickly throughout the battle episodes so that it would be difficult to excise them.

In theAdi and Vana Parvans, the layers of embedding become especially dense, reaching up to five levels in the story of Aurva (M.Bh. BOR! 1.196-171). Minkowski's article continues and complements an argument made earlier by Michael WitzeL 28 Witzel traces the history of the story of the Bhrgu .11i Cyavana as it grows from the 8gveda, the Yajurveda SaTflhitas and the Satapatha and the Jaiminlya

Briihma1')as. It was Witzel who first suggested that in the Yajurveda Sa",hitiis and the Brahma1)as we see the early stages of the development of the narrative framing technique which is then found in its fully developed fonn in the Mahabharata and other well known South Asian narratives. Minkowski, coming at the question from the side of

Mahabharata studies, agrees with Witzel that there is a structural similarity between the formal organization of Vedic rituals and that of the Mahilbharata narrative, and that the connection is probably historical and genetic. "In both7 the fonnal principle is one of embedding characterized by a hierarchy established by inclusion and by interrupting, subordinating sequence. "29 "It would thus appear... that the Mahabharata draws its inspiration for using a sustained frame story from the embedding structure of the Vedic ritual. 1130 Whatever the particular historical connections may have been, clearly embedding is not intrinsically derived from ritual. It is a logical construct found independently of ritual, most prominently in language itself. Minkowski himself points out that there are many well known frame-narratives in which ritualistic thinking plays no significant role - the

28Witzel 1987. 29Minkowski 1989, 420. See also Doniger 1984. 30Minkowski 1989, 420.

58

Pancatantra, the Buddhist ratakas~ the Arabian Nights, the Decameron and so on. The structural similarity in and of itself does not logically require a genetic connection, a historical development from ritual structure to narrative device. Minkowski argues. nevertheless, that since there is no extant evidence of any use of the frame story device in

any other pre-epic South Asian tex~ and since, as Witzel has shown, we do have evidence of less developed fonns of the frame story technique in late Vedic literature, and since we can in fact trace a development of the framing device from less elaborate to more elaborate uses in Vedic literature, and since, moreover, it is evident that in the case of the Mahabhiirata, the formal similarities are combined with a deep affinity with thematic concerns, it is highly feasible to assume that the MahObharata's frame device was inspired by similar structures in the earlier ritualistic literature. The frame as we find it in the Mahabharata, with its repeated thematic references to ritual activity, was most likely fashioned by people who were well acquainted with ritual discourse and had a strong interest in ritual matters. These are quite forceful arguments, but we must be very cautious about precisely how we deploy them, because this carries very strong implications for the interpretation of the Mahabharata tradition. We are making some most powerful connections here. Sacrificial ritual is the central paradigm of brahman ideology. In the Mahabhiirata itself, sacrifice is a dominant trope. Patterns of textual organization derived from ritual discourse are constitutive of Mahiibharata discourse. All of this is true. But does it follow that the ritual trope and ritual logic are absolutely encompassing in the Mahabharata? We are back to the inevitable problem of textual identity or heterogeneity which is the concern of this study, since the frame structure is a unifying device, by which apparently heterogeneous textual traditions are made to stick together. As Minkowski puts it: "Indeed,

if the Mahabharata has any unitary identity, it may be provided by its framing,

59

embedding, episodic style."31 For instance., that both Vaisarppayana's and Ugra.sravas' teIIings take place in a sacrificial cont~xt adds to the cohesive force of the frame device. But to over-emphasize the unifying force of the frame is to ignore the discursive heterogeneity which nevertheless so forcefully bursts through the seams of the texture of the Mahiibharata. When Witzel and Minkowski argue for a deep affinity between the worlds of Vedic sacrifice and of the Mahabharatat they are continuing a long line of Mahabharata scholarship which emphasizes the role of brahman ideology in finally shaping this monumental textual tradition. Madeleine Biardeau for instance, has read the Mahabharata 1

as a vehicle of a brahman religious synthesis of sacrificial, yogic and eschatological ideas which she calls "bhoJai". Sukthankar too believed that the final redaction of the epic was the work of a brahman clan., the Bhrgus. Even if it is true that the frame structure is the imprimatur of a circle of brahman redactors who used this text as a vehicle of propagating a totalizing socio-religious vision, one may still ask1 firs4 how coherent is the ritual thinking which supposedly unifies this total vision, and second., how deep is the penetration of this vision, how thoroughly are all the (evidently) diverse discourses which the

Mahabharata attempts to embrace subjugated to the totalizing vision which this frame supposedly proclaims. Clearly, many Mahabharata scholars have felt that the "priestly" layer in the

Mahabharata has not succeded in over-riding the force of other kinds of discourse. A good axample is J. A. B. van

Buitenen~

in whose view the Mahabharata passed from the

hands of royal bards to the hands of priests, and who felt that the earlier layers of the texts were often superior. 32 Though van Buitenen's dual dichotomy of kings versus priests is

31Minkowski 1989, 406.

32Van Buitenen 1973~ viii-xliv, and especially xxi-xxiii.

60

far too simplistic~ he was right to see the Mahiibhiirata as an arena of dialogue between ritualistic and other, non-ritualistic discourses. We must take into account the broader cultural and political context As S. Pollock has quite convincingly argued,33 a long-range cultural process took place around the time of the formation of the Mahiibharata, that is, in the few centuries around the beginning of the Christian era, by which a language which was in an earlier period used only in sacerdotal contexts extended its sphere of influence to encompass discourses which previously lay outside its sphere. We witness the sudden emergence of non-sacerdotal themes in the Sanskrit Mahiibhiirata, Ramiiyat)a. and the AnhaSastra. This sudden eruption of highly sophisticated non-sacredotal discourse in

Sanskrit suggests that despite the lack of direct evidence for the existence of earlier non-

sacredotal elite discourses, there must have been other such discourses out there which have simply not directly survived. We do not know yet exactly what the circumstances of this shift were, and we cannot be certain about the exact scope of input from these unknown sources, but we know that they somehow fed into the new emergent discourses, simply because we recognize their thematic and fonnal novelty. This recognizability is exactly the point. The incorporation is not complete assimilation. What is going on is a discursive encounter~ a dialogic process. The Mahiibhiirata frame, like the Sanskrit language itself with all its sacrificial references, certainly makes a claim for encompassment~

but at the same time it allows not only for very lengthy speculative and

legal discourses but also for extensive heroic narrative, love stories and so forth. In this process the meaning of, on the one hand~ such things as

love~

destiny, honor and war and,

on the other~ the central brahmanic concept of sacrifice as well as other religious visions are being contested and redefined. The very fact that soon thereafter we find court drama and

33pollock 1996.

61

love poetry in Sanskrit and that the frame story becomes popular in non-brahmanic texts proves the two-way nature of the process. These questions will not let go of us throughout this study. In this chapter however. y

I would like to take up one aspect of them7 namelY7 the connection between framing and textual expansion.

1.2.2.5. The Mahabharata's Frame Structure and the Practice of Inner Textual Expansion: Again7 I start with Minkowski's formulation 7suggested in his article only in passing, that "It [the frame structure] is also the source of the epic's perpetual growth."34 This proposition of Minkowski's has long intrigued me, because it seemed to be both very true and yet potentially misleading.

It does appear that the pattern of embedding7like a modular design in a line of furniture, not only technically allows for but also invites the virtually unlimited addition of new narrative units. Once the protagonists enter the forest and begin to listen to the sages' strings of stories, for instance7 there is in principle no limit to the number of stories that they can be made to listen to. The background or explanation for many crucial facts in the central narrative is given by way of an embedded narrative. For instance, the story of

Ambi is narrated in response to Yudhi~thira's question about BhI~ma's reasons for refusing to fight with Sikhandin (V. 170-197). The query takes the narrative back in time to BhI~ma's youth, and introduces new protagonists to the story. Again7 in principle there is

no end to how much this mechanism can be appIiecL to how far back one can inquire about causes or explanations for given events7and the relative frequency of its use makes it a constitutive part of Mahabhiirata narrative organization. Even more obvious in this respect are the frequent requests of the listener to hear "in extended detail" (vistare1)a) about something which has just been narrated briefly. Saiijaya, for instance, reports that

34Minkowski 1989 406. 7

62

KartJa is dead~ and Dhrtarii$tra asks to hear about how such a hero could have been defeated. As the Mahabharata presents things, this leads to the narration of no less than a whole medium-length Parvan! Now clearly, one may argue that this is nothing but a device, a literary conceit, a technique, a mechanism for incorporation of more textual material, but the use of this technique of diversion and regression is so ubiquitous and so crucial to the very organization of the Mahabharata., that to dismiss it as nothing but a way of connecting textual units is to beg the very basic question of Mahabharata textuality.

In principle, embedding can extend infinitely both outwards and inwards. The Mahabharata's main frame, for instance, deals with the circumstances of the telling of the

Bhirata war. Another, still more external frame, tells of the circumstances of that telling of the circumstances itself. Now we can imagine another frame which would expand on the circumstances of the second narration~ and so forth. Thus, in principle there is no limit to such outward narrative emboxing, and even though in practice such an infinite pattern cannot be realized, the structure does suggest an infinite regress and openendedness. Minkowski recognizes and addresses this fonnal reflexive feature. He explains it both as reflecting historical reality, namely., the transmission of the story through the ages., and as a narratological-metaphysical problem, calling it lithe threat of an infinite regression."35 He continues:

It is also true that in an ideological system which includes an absolute transcendent reality, nothing can regress infinitely. It must always end up striking bottom. It appears to me that the attribution of the story [0 Vyasa and setting of the story in the Naimi~a forest, serve the purpose of fixing the text at a level beyond which, as the text says, one cannot go further.3 6

35Minkowski 1989 ~ 406, italics mine. 36Minkowski 420.

63

To this I must add that the infinite regress of the embedding structure can in principle

be extended inward as well as outward. Five levels of embedding are reached in the Adi Parvan, but in principle this can go on~ and more stories can be embedded within existing stories ad infinitum. While this formal potential is of course present in any narrative involving embedding~ the Mahabhiirata seems actively to explore its semantic possibilities further than most other such narratives. In the Mahabharata, narrative units are connected by more than a frame. Stories provide causal explanations for, elucidations of the

meanings of, or in some other way mirror the themes of other stories within the complex.3? The potential of every bit of narrative to invite an "in extension" (vistare{la) teIIing and the potential infinite regression of the embedding structure outwards as well as inwards should be viewed as a part of a textual aesthetics~ an aesthetics of expansion. This discourse proIiferates~ it delights in proliferating, it takes shape, becomes, rather than is. In this more abstarct sense, there is no doubt that this aesthetics had something to do with the Mahabharata's quite striking, indeed, totally

unparalleled~

history of textual growth. But

the precise nature of the connection is quite complex and needs to be studied in much greater depth and specificity. First of all, one must analytically distinguish between embedding and expansion. I can compose a narrative that has a secondary narrative embedded in it. I can also take any given narrative and expand on it without using any embedding pattern. These are distinct phenomena. They invite comparison, nevertheless, because they are to a certain extent structurally analogous. In specific cases they mayor may not coincide. At least as far as the manuscript evidence goes, most expansions are not introduced into the text by way of

37The Kathasaritsagara comes to mind. While the levels of embedding there can be numerous, there is less insistance on causal connections between the narratives.

64

the frame structure.38 On the contrary, most expansions are simply continuous with a voice already existing in the received text. This is an extremely imponant fact. The embedding structure may have provided a mechanism of textual expansion, but it did not provide the only such mechanism. For this reason, the popularity of embedding techniques in and of itself cannot be the reason for the tendency to expand, the driving force behind the practice.

In order to get a better sense of the place of the frame structure among the textual mechanisms which enable expansion to take place, I have studied the evidence of the manuscripts throughout a whole book of the Mahiibhiirata, the Sabha Parvan. My primary goal was to see whether most expansions were introduced via the frame, and as far as this goes, the conclusions were quite straightforward.

Why have I chosen the Sabha Parvan? From my detailed survey below (M.Bh. BORI 1.3.3) it will become quite clear that no single book can serve as representative of the general state of the manuscripts as far as patterns of expansion goes. The Sabhii Parvan, nevertheless. is at least as good a choice as any other. It is a very carefully edited book. It has enough variation to yield a worthwhile sample of expansions, and on the other hand it is not one of the more complicated books for which it is impossible to reconstruct an archetype. In these more complicated cases, one can hardly distinguish between insertions and parallel readings. Because of the existence of an archetype, there is no doubt that the passages relegated to the Sabha Parvan's Appendix I have indeed been inserted at some point into an already existing text. The results derived from the Sabha Parvan are unambiguous. Forty-four passages have been identified as expansions and relegated

380ne must distinguish, of course, between expansions which are definitely identifiable by text-critical means, and hypothetical "expansions," about which we can only speculate.

65

because of their relative length to Appendix I of the Sabha Parvan. Of these, only three are introduced in a way which evokes the frame at all. The remainder of this section is an analysis of the three cases where expansion coincides with embedding: 1) The fIrst case, passage # 6 of Appendix I, which appears after M.Bh. BORI II.20.34 in the Southern manuscripts, is the only expansion in the Parvan which is introduced by a question of lanamejaya, thus returning us to the main frame. The context is the slaying of J adisandha This wicked king has defeated by force and imprisoned many of his neighbor-kings and is just about to sacrifice all of them to Siva ~I)a, Arjuna and Bhlma have come to him in the guise of brahman mendicants with the intention of killing

him and liberating the captive Iqatriyas. Janamejaya's query is introduced right after the three have revealed themselves to Jariisandha as disguised Iqatriyas who have come to kill him:

Why were these two,

Kr~1)a

and the king of Magadha, enemies?

How did Jarasandha defeat Magadha in battle? What is Karpsa to the king of Magadha, that he should hate

~1)a

Because of him? Tell me all this truly, Vaisruppayana The killing of Jarasandha is one link in a chain of hostilities which are soon going to culminate in the dramatic encounter between SisupaIa, who was the commander of Jarasandha's army, and Kr$I)a. This encounter, in the The Slaying ofSiiupala episode, takes place during Yudhi$thira's royal consecration. Clearly, Kr$t).a's role in slaying Sisuprua's lord ladisandha is sufficient to establish Sisuprua's hatred for Kr~1)a and to explain his objection to

~lJa's

rise to prominence, and this prepares the ground for and

anticipates The Slaying of Siiupala episode. Janamejaya's query and the answer elicited by it serve nevertheless to expand intertextually the net of connections and meanings which the Slaying of Siiupala episode mobilizes. It supplies additional background knowledge

66

which the aut.'1ors of this expansion seem to believe should guide the readers in their understanding of the situation. The story is well known from the Appendix" or Epilogue to the Mahabharata. the If

Harivaf!lia:

~1Ja

and J arasandha take two sides in an ongoing conflict over the

Vr~IJi

chiefdom. Karpsa, son of U grasena king of the V~l}is~ married J arasandha's daughter, and, apparently with this bully's military support, deposed his old father.

~I}a,

we are

reminded, is the son of Vasudeva, a Yadava. Vasudeva had married Devaki, KaJp.sa's sister. The passage goes on to tell us the famous story about the heavenly voice that announced at the moment of the marriage that a son of Devakl will be the death of Karpsa, and of Karpsa's ensuing plan to get rid of any offspring she might have in the future even as it is an embryo in her womb. The main point here is that Kn;Qa is that son of Vasudeva and Devakl who, just as the heavenly voice had predicted, survived to kill Jariisandha's ally. Karpsa, and to reinstate U grasena, the rightful king. This expansion is in fact telling us that Kr~1Ja

has already once frustrated Jarasandha's ruthless attempts to establish his own

influence over a large area In the light of this information, the Sabha Parvan's report of Kr~Qa's

role in checking Jarasandha's rise to illegitimate power gains importance. It

emphasizes K!?lJa's role as the protector of legitimate kingship and demonstrates that kingship based on raw power and defiance of "natural" hierarchies is as contrary to dhanna as is the human sacrifice which Jarasandha has intended to perform. Jarasandha, just like Karpsa, stands here for the rule of unchecked violence, for power without dhanna. The violence of Jarasandha's rule is epitomized by his intended mass human sacrifice. In the figure of Katpsa, this same violent nature is embodied in the usurpation of his own father'S scepter. Thus, the additional information introduced by the Southern insertion invokes a whole new idiom of family violence, one which would be more attractive to a psychoanalyst than to the Vedic specialist, even if actual patricide is not involved. This

67

idiom is not present in the Northern recension's version of the Killing of larasandha episode. Now surely, the story of Jarasandha could have developed historically independent of the ~IJa and Karp.sa complex., well known from the HarivaTflsa. Nevertheless, the

adhannic ruler's image as the unruly if not quite literally usurping son is not foreign to the world of the Mahabhiirata at large. 39 Though Duryodhana has not killed his father or fonnally deposed him, he has indeed effectively usurped his father's authority by ignoring his advice and commands. This aspect of Duryodhana probably epitomizes his adharmic nature more than his deviation from proper vaT1J.a rules or ritual practice, of which there is no evidence. To bring in KaIpsa is to strengthen this trope. In this case the Southern expansion draws on a larger narrative background which is familiar to both Northern and Southern readers in order to emphasize the semantic connections of the violent, adharmic ruler and the theme of father-displacement. It functions much as certain kinds of commentary might do in bringing forth a possible reading. 2) The context for the second expansion that invokes the frame structure is the digvijaya, the conquest of the quarters of space, performed to establish sovereignty and to

collect enough wealth for the Rajasiiya sacrifice. In this joint operation Sahadeva is appointed to conquer the Southern regions. An interesting incident in Sahadeva's round of conquests is his encounter with the fire god Agni in the city of Mahi~matl., where Sahadeva's troops kept catching fire. At this point, Janamejaya inquires:

UWhy did the blessed frre become Sahadeva's adversary in war, even though the

other was striving for the sake of a sacrifice, brahman?" (M.Bh. BOR! II.28.16)

39It has been often noted that patricide is extremely rare in brahrnanic tradition. Perhaps the closest thing to the royal patricide is the prince who deposes his father and takes his place, such as Kaqlsa, and the second closest is the prince who effectively rules in his father's place~ such as Duryodhana.

68

Vaisarppayana responds with the story of Agni's boon to king NlIa of Mahi~mad, and goes on to narrate how Sahadeva eventually gains the fire-god's favor by ritual means. by reminding him that the battle is for the sake of sacrifice, by singing Agni's praise, and by sitting facing him in ritual fashion. This pleases Agni, and he causes Mahi~matI's ruler to submit peacefully to PfuJcJava overlordship. This episode, an eloquent example of the use of the sacrificial idiom to speak of a controlled, non-violent way of conducting power politics, is attested in all manuscripts. The insertion in question, passage # 14 of Appendix I, is found in all Bengali and all Devanagari manuscripts, as well as the one extant MaithilI manuscript. It is simply an extension of the short hymn to Agni which Sahadeva sings. The interesting thing about it is that most of the insertion is seamless, directly attached to the few lines of hymn given in the preexisting text, just before this hymn's last verse. The recourse to the frame comes only at the end, as a solution to a peculiar problem., namely that the ending of the inserted unit does not combine elegantly with the last verse of the hymn as it was before the expansion. Instead of simply omitting this last verse, it is sustained by introducing a question-answer exchange between J anamejaya and Vaisarppayana. 3) The context for the third case of expansion involving the frame is again the

digvijaya, and Sahadeva's conquest of the Southern regions. Sahadeva has subdued both relatively close and familiar kingdoms like Matsya and Mahr~mad, and more remote (in time and place) kingdoms and peoples like the Pfu)4yas, the Tamils, the Keralas, the Aodhras, the Kalirigas, and even Antioch and Rome! Finally, he sends envoys to VibhI~3.Qa Paulastya, and that pious ra/qasa ruler of Larik~ the younger brother of RlivaJ)a

and Kubera (who must have been pretty old by now since a whole yuga has passed since his consecration by Rama), happily delivered loads of wealth to sponsor Yudhi~thira's sacrifice. After M.Bh. BOR! ll.28.S3ab, the Southern manuscripts have a passage which

69

the Northern manuscripts lack~ and which was therefore relegated to Appendix I as passage

# IS. It is introduced by Janamejaya's question:

Best of the twice

bom~

I wish to hear about Hi<;lirpba's son's arrival.

And of his way to Latildi and of his audience with Vibhi~aIJ.~ Brahman! And of the view of the Kaven river and indeed~ of all those kings. Tell me all in the order of occurrence. Oh Bull of the BrlihmaIJas! This is basically an insertion of the vistare7J.[l type. It supplies more details about Ghatotkaca's mission. First comes an extensive description of the glory of the Kaven and of its rich and highly cultivated country "served by pure brahmans~" as seen through Sahadeva's eyes. Sahadeva is so impressed that he compares the Kaven to the Ganga of his own country. He then summons Ghatotkaca., who suits the role probably by virtue of his rlilqasa blood, and bids him to go to Lailka. An extensive description of the glories of the Laitka court follows. The reconstructed version, which follows the Northern manuscripts, mentions neither the Kaven nor the role of Ghatotkaca. This is a case where a special regional sensibility must have prompted the expansion. The preexisting text had some rather unpleasant descriptions of the monstrous dwellers of the far South cannibals. people who cover their bodies with their huge ears single-footed folk who dwell 7

in the bush... Clearly, the Southern recension is correcting the offensive image of the region as uncivilized and SUb-human by emphasizing the piety sophistication and 7

generosity of the dwellers of the South. This is an excellent example of how textual expansion can make contestation of meaning possible. In this case, the issue at hand is the status of the Southern region as a genuine part of Bh3.ratavar~a. The intervention is not simply arbitrary. The mention of the figure of VibhI~aIJa is the node in the preexisting text which allows the Southerners to make the maneuver. Vibhi~aI).a is both a

raqasa and an inhabitant of the extreme South, yet he has subjected

himself willingly to dhanna. Since the preexisting text already mentioned this positive

70

Southern

figure~

someone in the South must have aniculated this succinct mention into a

statement of the incorporation of the far South into Bharatav~~ the realm of dharma, and this intervention has been universally accepted in all Southern manuscripts. The above three expansions namely passages #6 #14 and #15 of Appendix I of the 7

7

Sabha Parvan, are all achieved by activating the frame structure. The first case, passage #6 of Appendix I, is interpretive. The second case passage #14 of Appendix It carries little 7

additional meaning. The third case, passage #15 of Appendix t has a defmite contestative force. These three cases of expansion are quite varied and ordinary; there is nothing about them that calls for the use of the specific device of the frame. On the other hancL the manuscript tradition of the Parvan contains many examples of expansions which are equally or even more definite interventions but do not resort to the frame structure. The most substantial one is introduced in the course of ll.30-42. These

adhyayas recount the events that took place during Yudhi~thirafs royal consecration (Rajasiiya). During the ceremony SisupaIa, the king of Cedi who was the general of Jarasandha's forces before the killing of Jarasandha by Kr~Qa, Arjuna and BhIma, objects

to the decision to honor Kr~Qa as the foremost guest in the presence of the kings. Bhl~ma defends the choice of Kr~Qa, and this develops into a hostile exchange in which the worthiness and the very identity of Kr~lJ.a is debated. Is ~Qa the Supreme Puru~a or just an upstart tribal chief? eM.Bh. BORI 1I.330ff.). Eventually,

Kr~J)a

himself will be drawn

into the argument, and the scene will culminate in ~Qa beheading SisupaIa. The manuscripts attest a number of expansions of this unit, of which we will briefly describe three, labeled 1a. 2a and 3a. 1a & 2a. passages 19&20 of Appendix I, elaborate on SisupaIa's objections to the honoring of Kr~lJa. All manuscripts contain:

Kr~Qa

is not a king. How then can you consider him worthy of honor

Amongst all the rulers of the earth, and how can you pay him homage?

71

Or perhaps you consider Kr~IJ.a an elder, Bull of the Bharatas.

If so, how can you honor his 500, when the old Vasudeva stands by? And even ifVasudev~ who wishes to please you, should comply, How can Madhava merit the honor when Drupada is present? Or if you consider ~I)a a teacher, Bull of the Kurus, Why have you honored the V-ar~l)eya while DroIJ.a is present? Or do you perhaps think him a priest. Joy of the Kurus? The island-born brahman (Vyasa) is there, so how can you honor Kr~I)a? Since this killer of Madhu is neither a priest, nor a teacher, nor a king You must be honoring him out of favoritism., Best of Kurus! (M.Bh. BOR! II.34.5-10) Just before the concluding verse of this speech, after M.Bh. BOR! 11.34.9, two different versions of expansion (passages # 19&20 of Appendix I) are attested in the manuscripts, one by some of the Northern manuscripts, one by all Southern manuscripts. Both do the same thing, basically - they pick up and amplify the pattern already established in the unexpanded text. In the pre-expanded text a number of persons are pointed to in the audience whose merit in some respect or other exceeds that of Kr~Q.a. For instance, the Northern expansion runs: When the best of men, Bhl~ma the son of Santanu, he who can die When he wills it, stands by, how can you honor Kr~t)a., King? When the brave ASvatthaman, learned in all Sastras, stands by, How can you honor ~I)a? 0 Royal Gladdener of the Kurus' Hearts L. ... The frame plays no part in enabling this specific expansion. In this case, it is the repetitive pattern that enables or invites elaboration. Many expansions are introduced by augmenting a repetitive pattern. 3a) Our last example, passage #21 of Appendix I, is inserted after M.Bh. BOR! II.3S.29. This time the context is BhI~ma's reply to Sisupa.Ia's objection. Bhl~ma denies any favoritism, and praises the virtues of ~I)a, by which, he explains, he truly merits

72

honor. He begins by enumerating Kr~IJa's human virtues. but quickly passes on to state ~t).a's

divinity:

Liberality, dexterity, learning, gallantry, modesty, fame, great resolve, Humility, luster, pertinacity, contentment and prosperity Forever rest in Acyuta He is a fully accomplished teacher, father and guru, You must all agree that he is to be honored and merits honor! Priest, teacher, eligible son in law, snataka, friencL king Hr~lk:esa is all of these. This is why Acyuta is being honored!

Only ~I).a is the origin of the worlds and their dissolution, All this creation is completely handed over to

~I).a.

He is the Unmanisfest Nature and the Eternal Doer Beyond all creatures. This is why Acyuta is the eldest! Spiri~

mind, the Great One, wind, fire, water, ether, earth

And the fourfold creation, all these depend on Kr~Qa. The sun, the moon, the constelations and the planets The directions and the intennediate directions - all these rest on

Kr~Qa

(M.Bh.

BORI 1135.19-25) BhI~ma now challenges SisupaJa to a kind of duel or face to face fight, and challenges

the assembled kings to support SisupaIa. Sahadeva joins BhI~ma's challenge, declaring that: Any mighty (king) among you who will not tolerate the honoring

Of Kesava of immeasurable prowess, the slayer of (the demon) Kesin I place my foot on his head, Kings ~

I have stated this (challenge) properly. Let him respond to it! (M.Bh. BORI ll.36.2-3) Just after Bhl~ma's challenge and before Sahadeva's, we corne upon a remarkably long insertion. The unit is about one quarter of the whole Parvan's length!40 It is attested

40It is 1612 lines, or about 806 slokas long. The reconstructed text of the whole Parvan is 2390 slokas long. See M.Bh. BORI vol. 2, xxvii.

73

only in the Southern manuscripts.41 The unit basically expands on Bhl~ma·s explicit claim that ~lJa is the supreme godhead, but unlike the above quoted passage from the "reconstituted" tex4 which is very succinct, the expansion in question offers a full fledged Vai~lJava-~IJaite

systematic mythology and theology, in stotra style, beginning with the

incarnations of Vi~Qu and going on to tell the stories of ~lJa the child and the lover. The complex method by which this more ambitious expansion is integrated is worth examining closely, despite the technicality of the matter. Here, the dialogue itself is fIrst expanded, adding first a small exchange involving Sahadeva and

Yudhi~!hira-

It starts with

Sahadeva reiterating Bhl~ma·s praise of ~lJ.a and his challenge to any present king who would object to the honoring of ~I}a The challenge to the kings is very much like the unit that comes right after the point of expansion, but the wording is different, so it is not the "same" text. Sahadeva's challenge-speech in the expansion, though longer, is in part so similar to the one included in the reconstituted text that one might want to regard it as a good example of "parallel running versions."

Let any mighty charioteer among the kings who will not tolerate (this) Come forth to engage in battle with me here if he can. I place my left foot on that king's head! I have stated the term (of the challenge). Let him respond! (M.Bh. BOR! II. Appendix I, passage # 21, lines 7-10.) Since the text of the Southern manuscripts resumes after the lengthy inserted unit as it was before the expansion, the result is that in the Southern recension Sahadeva challenges the assembled kings to support SisupaIa's position twice. Notice how the process of textual expansion leads to the creation of repetitive patterns in the text. In a sense, Bhr~mats expanded stotra is itself a "repetitiontl of his more succinct statement of Kr~IJa's virtues

41M.Bh. BOR! vol. 2. Appendix I, Passage #2i.

74

and divinity. But here the concept of repetition begins to be too simple to account faT the range and complexity of the phenomenon at hand. Is a basic affirmation of Kr~lJa's divinity the same as an extended discourse, replete with all the details of a mature Vai~Qava sectarian theological position? A number of events prepare the ground dramatically for the much grander scale of this inserted theological manifesto. First there is a silence, a lack of response from the assembled kings, who are obviously afraid. Then there is a shower of flowers from heaven, and the wrathful Bhi~mats word of support for Sahadeva's challenge Oines 11-21). This building up of tension leads to the final intervention of the yajamana,

Yudhi~thir~

who, perhaps owing to his consecrated state which prevents from speaking anything but

satya, was until now only a silent witness of the explosive situation. Now, however, he demands to know the truth:

I wish to hear in extended detail and in full the deeds Of the Lord God. Speak forth, Grandfather! (lines 24-25) To this invitation Bhi~ma replies with a discourse of 1575 lines. The very bulk of the inserted unit makes a mark on the pre-existing text. A Parvan the action of which is relatively concentrated in time and space, with a rather simple linear progression of events~ is transformed into a Parvan which spans cosmic ages, so that infinite time is contained in a short duration. A rather grim story about warring kings is suddenly infused with the tender erotic scenes of the young

Kr~IJa's

love play. And all this is achieved without any

recourse to the frame. Janamejaya doesn't come once into it! To sum up this section, the frame structure does not playa crutial role in actually enabling textual expansion to occur. There are plenty of other textual patterns which make the Mahiibharata open to expansion, so that expansion is often achieved without any recourse to the frame structurep Nevertheless, expansions which resort to the frame by means of a question and answer exchange are important. The existence of an overt

75

standard mechanisms for introducing an ex.pansion, such as a request to hear" in extended detail" what was previously heard in brief, suggests that within the Mahabharata textual tradition, both "repetition" and "expansion" are considered normal .. even desirable practices - certainly not something to avoid or deny. What is implicitly denied by the use of these conventional formulae of introducing an expansion is the possibility that the repetition or ex.pansion might radically alter the import of what has already been said. In other words, the frame structure plays a more crucial role both in articulating an aesthetic of textual expansion and in attempting to state its limits than in actually enabling expansion to take place.

1.2.3. Sequential Variation and the Question ofUniversaI Attestation Again We speak of transposition or sequential variation where different manuscripts have the same or nearly the same passage (when the only divergence is obviously the result of local emendations) but that passage is in those different manuscript differently located in

the textual sequence. The Poona critical edition records sequential variation meticulously but makes relatively little use of them to reconstruct the development of the manuscript tradition. More recently, Ian Proudfoot has argued that a much more crucial role should be given to sequential variation in the analysis of the history of the text.42 Working from within the premises of Lachmannian stemmatics, namely, that originality and authenticity are synonymous, yet questioning the editorial principle that any passage universally attested must be original, Proudfoot reaches some very interesting conclusions. By taking into account sequential variation Proudfoot claims to have proven on the basis of purely intrinsic evidence that many Mahabharata passages are what he

42Proudfoot 1987.

76

calls "contaminations" despite the fact that they are universally attested. He analyses as a sample the Tuladhiira episode of the Molqadharma subparvan (M.Bh.BORI XTI.252256), taking into account sequential variations., and concludes that at least nine short passages in that section are "contaminations" despite being universally attested. On the base of this sample, he proposes a more rigorous fonn of stemmatics which would systematically take sequential variation into account The result of this method., if applied" would clearly be to relegate an even greater portion of the Mahabharata to Appendix 1.43 Proudfoot's study is not restricted to manuscript analysis. He then proceeds to argue that his method of separating the text into layers allows us to see the development of the idea of non-violence (ahi1'flSii) in the unit. Proudfoot's analysis of the different formulations of what is often quite indiscriminately put under the general rubric of the term ahiTflSii is admirably subtle, and he always postulates a specific social context to these

different formulations even if he cannot always definitely point to extra-textual evidence for the existence of such a context. But what to make of his text-critical method? Never questioning the theoretical foundations of stemmatics, Proudfoot rigorously applies certain aspects of the method's logic, only to draw more radical conclusions - that more than we ever thought of the Mahabharata text is what he calls "contaminations." He quite optimistically hopes that if the same method were rigorously applied to the whole Mahiibharata textual tradition, we would be able to achieve a real history of central cultural

ideas such as ahiTflsa. This part of his work is based on assumption that the text grew in ideologically consistent layers which can be neatly separated. This assumption I can not accept. If the production process of the Mahiibharata was as heterogeneous as I think it was., it seems unlikely that ideologically consistent layers will be found throughout.

43Proudfoot 1987, 37-46.

77

On the other hand, Proudfoot's finding. that a much larger portion of his sample unit. M.Bh. BORI XII. 252-256, is what he calles "an interpolation," supports my own

argument, namely that the bulk of the Mahabhiirata text, even when universally attested in the extant manuscripts, is in fact an expansion, a response to, an interpretation of preexisting textual traditions.

In section 1.4. below I will attempt a different approach to the problem of sequential variation.

1.3.

Heterogeneity of Textual Production

1.3.1. Large Scale Textual Variation We know that the Mahabharata is a highly composite text. There was a long and complex process of incorporating textual materials within the tradition. How do we imagine this process? The incorporation of preexisting materials may involve more or less streamlining and may be more or less guided by the incorporator's own vision. For instance, some texts are extant only in written form, and yet we think that they contain orally composed materials which have been put into writing. How is that possible? Clearly, the one-time oral character of these materials has not been totally effaced if we are able to recognize them as such. On the other band, the very fact of their being in written form subjects them now to an over-riding logic of writing. In particular, once they have entered a particular manuscript, their linear sequence is fixed. 44

44For a good discussion of literacy and orality, including a survey of the scholarship, see Ch~pter One, "Literacy and Orality. in Thomas 1992. If

78

Furthermore, when divergent early sources are reorganized and reinterpreted according to a redactor's

agend~

earlier layers of text. even if still recognizable. are

subjected to the logic of the redaction process. This can happen at different levels, such as through stylistic streamlining, through reconfiguration of meaning of smaller units simply by their placement in a different context or through deliberate changes in the pre-existing texts. Furthermore, the redactors can impose their own vision more or less thoroughly on the materials that they incorporate. It may be useful to distinguish degrees of centralization of a redaction process.

With regard to the Mahabharata, the general editor of the critical edition and its inspiring figure, V. S. Sukthankar, has put forth the theory that a brahman clan, the Bhrgus, played a decisive role in detennining the form of the Mahabharata as we know it today.45 Perhaps because of Sukthankar's vagueness as to the particulars of this redaction process, but also because of the rise of the influence in the academic community of oral approaches to the Mahiibharata which emphasize the fluidity of the text, this theory has remained I arge Iy ignored or donnant, not quite rejected" but also not espoused by the scholarly community as the basic assumption which, if correct. should underlie any critical treatment of the Mahabharata. 46 The main difficulty with the redaction model is that it is well attested that at no moment in the history of the Mahabharata was it completely closed or "sealed." There is no single moment in the textual tradition's history which might provide us with a collective analogy of the modern "author's final intention." In section 1.4. we will see how this lack of clear-cut boundaries allowed even Sukthankar to relegate a substantial textual unit to the appendix on the ground that it must have been inserted by

45S ukthankar

1936.

46It has inspired a study of the Bhargava cycle of stories, but this work, which is interesting in itself, only explores these stories without directly addressing the larger issue of Mahabhiirata redaction. See Goldman 1971.

79

someone belonging to me same circles which according to his own theory gave the

Mahiibharata its final shape. I will in this section argue a point intimately related to the above

issues~

to none of them: namely, that in the Sanskrit Mahiibharata attributed to

but equivalent

Vyas~

competing

foons of textual production have, up to the production of the Poona edition, coexisted in such a way that no single process has become the tmal, overriding norm for the whole tradition. In other words, before the Poona edition, the text has never been fully determil'ed in a centralized way. To the extent that earlier recensions and commentaries strove for systematic unity of some sort (a matter well worth study) they have obviously never succeeded in imposing such uniformity on the textual tradition. This argument bas not been made before in a systematic way, though it has been suggested by Sukthankar. My claim is just a translation to the language of cultural history of an easily observable text-critical fact, namely, that the manuscript situation varies radically for different portions of the Mahabharata. Yet, no one has explicitly made this connection or raised the question of its implications. The shape of certain Parvans - which do indeed make up a significant bulk of the text - had been definitely fixed by a single act of committing the text to writing. Some of these, however, have been so much expanded afterwards that the process of expansion must be counted as a later major stage in their formation. Other Parvans, equally large, equally important and central to the tradition, have not been through such a centralized standardization process at any stage. What difference does this claim make to our reading of the Mahiibharata? In away, the discovery opens up more questions than it answers.

Yet~

I can locate my concern with

this issue within the larger project of this dissertation. The absence of a centralized moment of textual detennination explains the textual heterogeneity which we find in the

Mahabharata.

80

1.3.2. The Project of the Critical Edition In Its Context It is from the manuscripts of the textual entity called the Mahabharata that I glean the evidence to support my argument. I have not myself worked directly with these manuscripts. however, and the reason is quite obvious: it is a vast body of materiaL Identifying these manuscripts, assembling them and deriving the critical edition from them was a huge task which required the joint work of a large and highly trained team over many years. Including the Harivarp.ia (which is traditionally regarded as a supplement to

the Mahabhiirata) and the Indexes, the edition consists of 17 large volumes, and its production took 45 years, from 1927 to 1972. Naturally . I make use of the information gathered and analyzed for the critical edition to argue my point, so that I am in the position of a dwarf standing on the shoulders of giants. This dwarf, however, is using the critical edition in a way which would have disturbed its editors. As discussed in the Introduction, for Indians participating in the project, as well as for the Cfew) Western scholars involved.. the editing of the Mahabhiirata was a cultural and political act with bearing on contemporary issues. 47 The Mahabharata is one of the most obvious candidates for the status of a true all-Indian classic because unlike the Veda or sectarian texts, it was familiar to and cherished by large segments of the population allover India. For this reason, the question of unity and diversity was an especially delicate and important one when it came to the Mahiibhiirata. Sukthankar was ambivalent He recognized the inherent heterogeneity of the complex textual entity he was dealing with, and was aware of the complex nature of the nation for which the project was carried out. "Even in its early phases, the Mahabhiirata

47See my Introduction pp.19-21. Among the main editors~ the only non-Indian was Franklin Edgerton who edited the Sablza Parvan.

81

textual tradition must have been not uniform and simple but mUltiple and poiygenolls, " he writes, and goes on to explain that the Mahabharata was orally transmitted over a long period and that its commitment to writing occurred" independently at different epochs

and under different circumstances." Moreover, he points out, a long period of free comparison of manuscripts and extensive mutual borrowing followed. He points out that the editorial practice in the past has usually been inclusive.48 For all of these reasons, he cautions, the reconstructed text cannot claim to represent the original Mahabhiirata. Rather "it is but a modest attempt to present a version of the epic as old as the manuscript material will pennit us." It is "not the best text," but "only the most ancient according to the direct line of transmission. "49 Nevertheless, he saw his task as producing a unified, historically legitimized version of the great Indian epic, and this he certainly viewed as part of a national cultural project. liThe ultimate problem is to unify, as far as possible, this manuscript tradition: to evolve by comparative methods a fonn of the text that will explain this phenomenal wealth of divergent and conflicting texts, andjustify it."50 Not only his training in the Lachmannian tradition of text-criticism which seeks to analytically reconstruct the original text,Sl but probably also his brahmanical background and his national patriotic aspirations played a role in this. There is an underlying tension in Sukthankar's discussions of unity and diversity. On the one hand, he conceives of the diversity of the manuscript tradition as the problem~ to

48S ukthankar 1933~ lxxix-lxxx. Italics mine. 49S ukthankar 1933, ciii. 50S ukthankar

1933, lxxvi. Italics mine.

my Introduction pp.lS-16 for a discussion of text-criticism and the Gennan Lachmannian school. 51S ee

82

which the critical method hopefuUy offers the solution. On the other hand .. he senses that the text-critical analysis of the manuscripts was pointing to what he calls multiplicity and polygenousness. On the one hand he admits the impossibility of reconstructing an archetype "Where~ one may ask, is the origin of a whole literature?"52 On the other hand he constantly reverts to using the language of originality and authenticity: e.g. "Originality and authenticity are unfortunately not the prerogative of any singJe recension ...They must be established Iaboriously... "53 He is looking for an objectively established text and

undervalues the local, the personal, the "subjective" and the historically contingent: e.g. "Extrinsic evidence has only local or temporal value. "54

In the last part of the

"Prolegomen~"

however, Sukthankar seems positively to

espouse that very same problematic diversity: If the epic is to be a vital force in the life of any progressive people, it must be a

slow-changing book. 55 To put it in other words, the Mahabharata is the whole of the Epic tradition,

the entire Critical Apparatus. Its separation into the constituted text and the critical notes is only a static representation of a constantly changing epic text. 56

52Su kthankar 1933, lxxvii. 53Sukthankar 1933, xcvii. Or:" ... our manuscripts contain all that was there originally to hand down." Ibid., xcv. Or: .....a more faithful picture of the original ... "...return to the original .. " Ibid., civ; etc .. 54S ukthankar 1933, xcv. Italics mine.

55S ukthankar 1933, ci. 56S ukthankar 1933, cii. Italics mine.

II

83

Even as he claims in his Prolegomena that the reconstructed text is more "unified", he does not attribute this unity to authorial - or even redactoral - intention anywhere in his introductions to the critical edition volumes He was, however. already struggling with this notion of textual unity, since soon after the publication of these introductions he did resort to the theory of redactoral intention. In a separate article published in 1936 he posited the hypothesis that the later formative stage in the history of the Mahiibharata was brought about by an act of redaction which he attributes to a certain brahman clan, the Bhrgus.57

y e~ even in this early stage, Sukthankar is wary not only of claiming too strong a case for the reconstructed text, but also of generalizing about the Mahabharata as a whole on the basis of the Adi Parvan "sample." When he wrote his introduction to the Ara1J.yaka

Parvan in 1942, Sukthankar already had the benefit of the Viriira and the Udyoga Parvans' completed editions, so he was already in a position to spell out more of the fine details of the phenomenon of which in 1933 he had only an inkling. He observes now that "the process of inflation is not unifonn throughout the epic, since for the Adi Parvan, the II

Southern recension is more affected by the process of expansion than the Northern, whereas for the Ara1.lyaka Parvan, the opposite is the case. 58

57S ukthankar 1936.

58His method of assessing the amount of inflation in a given recension is in my view not satisfactory. He compares the number of ilokas in the Vulgate text with the number of slokas in Sastri's Southern recension, and finds the Vulgate to be 1,710 stanzas longer. In other words, he simply takes these two late editions to be good enough representatives of the late Northern and late Southern traditions respectively. Measuring expansion is not a straightforward matter, however - all kinds of complicated variations should be taken into account. For instance, what if in one recension there is a single late manuscript which is substantively longer because of a single passage, yet the rest of that recension is relatively untouched by expansions, and in the other recension there are a number of short expansions which have entered most of its manuscripts from an early period? Though the Vulgate was based on comparison of manuscripts it is inclusive, not text-critical, so that its text effaces all such distinctions which are essential to a historical study. This method of assessing the bulk of a recension has unfortunately been taken on by other editors such as S. K. De.

84

Over the ensuing thirty~nine years of editorial work on the critical edition, as the systematic study of more and more of the manuscripts brought more facts to

light~

similar

observations about the heterogeneity of the Mahabharata were sporadically made. They are dispersed throughout the editorial statements introducing the different Parvans. As I follow these statements in the BOR! edition~ 1 observe a double thrust: on the one handy with the accumulation of more information on the different Parvans, most editors recognize the increasing complexity of the picture. On the other hand~ there is an ongoing attempt to manage this admittedly overwhelming variety of data by offering explanations with some generalizing force. A constant negotiation of the meaning of the phenomenon of large scale variation (sometimes even a radical questioning of the text- critical principles underlying the edition)59 is going on. Ye4 even now that the whole manuscript tradition has finally been analyzed no systematic attempt has been made to take stock of the full y

range of the information obtained since the publication of the Adi Parvan critical edition in order to flesh out the meaning of what Sukthankar correctly guessed to be the

Mahabhiirata's multiplicity and polygenousness. 60 Why was such an attempt never made? Of all the editors, Sukthankar was probably the most aware of the complexity of the cultural enterprise he was directing. After Suktbankar's death in 1943, Belvalkar took over the general editing. Though the other editors faithfully followed the formal principles set down by Sukthankar, no other editor undertook to make grand statements about the project as a whole or to reflect on its wider implications. This hesitancy may have had to do with a growing realization of the

591 deal

with the ongoing questioning of the principles underlying the edition in my

Introduction. 60An article reviewing the manuscripts used for the critical edition of the Mahabharata has been published by John Dunham~ but does not note that the production of the Mahabharata was so different for its different parts, a point which which 1 believe to be crucial. See Dunham 1985.

85

complexity of the evolving picture as well as with the lack of a theoretical framework for y

interpreting the emerging findings in a meaningful way.

1.3.3. A Survey of the Manuscript Traditions of the Different Parvans Gleaned from the Information Provided in the Critical Edition

In this section I synthesize the analysis offered by the editors for each and every

Parvan and arrive at some general observations. I must warn the reader that I cannot avoid going into some dry details, because these details provide the foundations for the conclusions that follow in section L3.4. Though I am aware of the artificiality of the distinction between facts and interpretation. I have tried to restrict myself in 1.3.3. to the more basic "facts" gleaned from the apparatus and from the introductions to the Parvans, and to reserve the more comprehensive criticisms and interpretive statements for the next section. Where an editor'S specific judgment or statement strikes me as altogether unacceptable, however, I state this and give the reasons for my reservations right away.

My presentation in the following section is in the order of the Parvans and not in the order of the publication of their critical editions. Since I will be making observations about the processing of the flood of incoming information by the editorial team, I provide below a chronology of the publication of the Parvans. and add the editors' names too, for the reader's easy reference. When that information is available to me. I add in parentheses the date of when editorial work began. Note that the work of critically editing the

Mahlibharata (not including the Index and the Harivalflsa critical edition) is spread over

39 years. The editing of the Kan:uz Parvan alone took as long as 11 years.

Names of Editors and Chronology of Publication Years of Parvans 1933 (1927) - (I) Adi Parvan. Ed. Vishnu S. Sukthankar. 1936 (1933) - (IV) Viriita Parvan. Ed. Raghu Vlra. 1939 (1934) - (V) Udyoga Parvan. Ed. Sushi! Kumar De.

1941-2 - (III) AraTJ.yaka Parvan. Ed. Vishnu S. Sukthankar.

1943-4 -

(m Sabha Parvan.

86

Ed. Franklin Edgerton.

1947 (1935) - (VI) Bhl~ma Parvan. Ed. Shripad Krishna Belvalkar. 1948 - (X) Sauptika Parvan. Ed. Hari Damodar Velankar. 1949 - (XU) Santi Parvan, Rajadhanna. Ed. Shripad Krishna BelvaIkar. 1950 -

om) Santi Parvan, Apaddhanna.

Ed. Shripad Krishna Belvalkar.

1951-3 - (XII) Santi Parvan, Mok~adharma. Ed. Shripad Krishna Belvalkar. 1954 (1943) - (VIII) Ka17)a Parvan. Ed. Parashuram Lakshman Vaidya. 1956 - (XI) Strl Parvan. Ed. Vasudev Gopal Paranjpe. 1958 - (VII) Dro1)a Parvan. Edition undertaken in 1947. Ed. SushiI Kumar De. 1959 - (XV) Asramavasika Parvan. Ed. S. K. Belvalkar. 1959 - (XVI) Mausala Parvan. Ed. S. K. Belvalkar. 1959 - (XVll) Mahaprasthanika Parvan. Ed. S. K. Belvalkar. 1959 - (XVTII) SvargarohCl1J.Q Parvan. Ed. S. Ie. Belvalkar. 1960 - (XIV) Aivamedhika Parvan. Ed. Raghunath Damodar Karmarkar. 1961 (1 before 56) - (IX) Salya Parvan. Ed. Ramchandra Narayan Dandekar. 1966 - (XIII) AnuSasana Parvan. Ed. Ramchandra Narayan Dandekar.

en Adi Parvan: It is one of the bulkier Parvans (the number of formal stanzas is over 8,ooo}.6l Of the inserted passages, 119 were long enough to require relegation to the relatively large Appendix 1. Most of these insertions are relatively short, however. The longest passage, Adi Parvan Appendix. I. 1 14, has 462 lines; The eight Appendix passages

81~

103,79,118,73,55,78,48,36 and 92 range between 230 and 95 lines; the

rest are much shorter, most of them in the 20-30 lines range.

61The exact number of stanzas is difficult to compute, because the Adi Parvan has two lengthy prose adhyayas (M.Bh. BOR! 1.3; M.Bh. BORI 1.90) and a large number of tri~tubh passages. See Sukthankar 1933~ xcviii-xcix. Sukthankar discusses the distinction between "formal stanzas" (e.g. iloka, tri.uubh) and "mathematical stanzas" - a unit of 32 syllables - introduced by Mahhamahopadhyaya Haraprasad Sastri. (Sukthankar 1933, xcix) Henceforth, when I state the number of stanzas in a Parvan, I mean IIformal stanzas It.

87

Sukthankar's observations in his ttprolegomena" about the Mahabharata's IImultiplicity and polygenousness" are based primarily on his study of the Adi Parvan. 62 Similarly, the terminology which he used in his discussion of the Parvan established the practice of the later editors. He distinguishes two groups of manuscripts, North (N) and South (5). Within N he distinguishes between the Western group, which includes Sarada manuscripts (S) and allied Devanagari manuscripts (K), and the Eastern (W) group which includes Nepali (-N), Maithili (V) and Bengali (B) manuscripts. Within S he distinguishes between Telugu (T) and Grantha (G) manuscripts on the one hand and MalayaIam manuscripts (M) on the other. Devanagari manuscripts other than K (0) are very eclectic and stand between the recensions. Sukthankar concludes that the two Northern branches, the Western and the Eastern, are descended from a common written secondary archetype; similarly, he concludes that T, G and M had a single written archetype. He emphasizes, however, that there was no written archetype for the whole textual tradition of that book of the Mahabharata. Sukthankar found the North-Western manuscripts of the Adi Parvan, especially

S, to

be the least expanded. In other words, almost all the text found in these manuscripts is attested also in all other branches of manuscripts. This is why in doubtful

cases~

absence of other conclusive evidence, the critical text of the Adi Parvan follows

in the

S.

The

principle of following S when in doubt has been applied throughout the BOR! edition. According to Sukthankar, the Northern recension of the Adi Parvan has fewer inserted passages (passages which occur in some branch or branches of manuscripts and not in all of them), but tends to more frequent emendation (local corrections when the received text is unclear or has archaic language).63 The Southern recension, on the other

62Probably not exclusively - he already had an idea of the Viriita Parvan case too. since a portion of it had already been edited. 63 Again, see note 58 for criticism of his method.

88

hand, also has some merit in Sukthankar's view, being conservative in another way: in its older portions, it often preserves original, difficult readings which Northern scribes tended to amend, or replace with newer Sanskrit equivalents. Among the Southern manuscript groups, M is a relatively independent branch which often preserves an older version, and when it coincides with 5, it strengthens the hypothesis that S preserves the older state of the text.

(IT) Sabha Parvan: A medium length Parvan (2,390 stanzas). Van Buitenen has shown that this Parvan is not only central to the main narrative but also well constructed. 64 Appendix I has 44 passages, with a single very long insertion, namely Appendix. I. 2 L which has 1612 lines (about 806 stanzas, or a quarter of the Parvan's length!). Passages no. 15,39, 28, 12,43 ,38 and 29 are in the 300-95 lines range. Edgerton's analysis of the Sabha Parvan diverges significantly from that of Sukthankar for the Adi Parvan on three points: First, Edgerton takes a stronger position on the question of omissions. If a passage is not represented in all branches of the manuscripts, is it an omission or an insertion? Sukthankar sets down as the first and most important editorial rule that when a passage is not attested in all branches of manuscripts, it is more likely to be an insertion. Positive proof to the contrary must be provided for it to be included in the reconstructed text. He does not however rule out altogether the theoretical possibility of omissions. 65 Edgerton more decidedly declares that any passage which is missing in any group of manuscripts as a whole is almost certainly an insertion. He emphasizes that he has not seen a deliberate

64Van Buitenen 1972. 65S u kthankar

1933, xcv-xcvi.

89

omission (to be distinguished from accidental omissions resulting from such causes as scribal error or loss of a manuscript leaf. Such omissions are easily identifiable and usually occur only in a single manuscript or a small group of closely related manuscripts).66 SeconcL the question of the existence of a single primary archetype. Whereas Sukthankar does not believe that there was a primary archetype for the Adi Parvan, and is inclined to think that the same would be found to be true for the rest of the Mahabharata, Edgerton is convinced that in the case of the Sabhii Parvan, the reconstructed text of the Parvan reasonably approximates Ita text which once existed and from which all existing manuscripts are derived." Despite difficulties which he himself has experienced in reconstructing i~ he insists that Itevery line of that text had once a definite, precise form. "67 Third, the question of the existence of secondary archetypes for the recensions. Sukthankar found these to exist in the case of the Adi Parvan.68 Edgerton questions the existence of a single secondary archetype for the Northern recension of the Sabha Parvan, and instead, he concludes that two separate archetypes of the Sabha Parvan, East and West, were written down independently in the North. A single secondary archetype for the Southern branch did exist, in his view. Thus, even though he formally confonns to the tenninology "Northern recension" and "Southern recension u which was established by Sukthankar for the Adi Parvan and found to be valid by previous editors (the Sabha

Parvan was the fifth Parvan to be published), Edgerton emphasizes that he does not regard N as a "historical realitylt in the case of the SabhCi Parvan. 69 In fact~ Edgerton posits

66Edgerton 1943-4, xxxiv. 67Edgerton 1943-4, xxxvi-xxxvii. 68S u kthankar 1933, XXX. 69Edgerton 1943-4~ xlvii-xlviii.

90

three main branches for the Sabha manuscript tradition. versus the two main branches posited for the Adi. By the time Edgerton wrote his "Introduction" he had in front of him the full apparatus for the Adi and the Viriita Parvans as well as the critical text and introductions to the Udyoga and the Ara1JYaiw Parvans. He was aware that the editorial problems of each

Parvan are different, and raised the question of whether results like his might in the long run call for a modification of the initial critical tenninology (such as the basic distinction between a Northern and a Southern recension) adopted for the Mahabharata as a whole. 70 By implication. he was saying that perhaps a rethinking of the text-critical presuppositions underlying the whole edition will become necessary, but no one followed up his suggestion. (Ill) Ara1J.yaka Parvan: A relatively long Parvan (11,000 - 12.000 stanzas). Appendix I has 32 passages. In the 200 - 95 lines range are passages 6 ,25, 16,2 1.24 and 10. There are no special difficulties of textual reconstruction. The text runs very smoothly, with few transpositions and few substitute passages.?l The last adhyaya of the

Ara1J.yaka Parvan in the Northern recension is the first adhyaya of the (following) Virafa Parvan in the Southern recension. There are also many expansions in both manuscript branches, but counter to his expectations, which were based, of course. on his knowledge

of Adi and Vira{a Parvans alone, Sukthankar found the Northern recension to be longer. more Itinflated" than the Southern (the Vulgate has

70£dgerton 1943-4~ xxxvii-xxxviii.

71M.Bh. BORI Vo1.3~ xvi.

12~848

ilokas; Sastri's Southern edition

91

has 11,138 s1okas)J2 The always alert Sukthankar observed that the process of inflation was not uniform throughout the epic. The content of the Arar;.yaka Parvan is only marginally related to the main narrative.

If there was some expectation that the phenomenon of extreme variation would be concentrated or restricted to such "marginal" portions, then the AraTJ.yaka Parvan defies these expectations - despite the marginality of its contents, the relationship between its recensions is simple and reconstruction of an archetype is fairly easy. (IV) Virata Parvan: A medium length Parvan (1834 stanzas). The editor, Raghu vIr~ constructs a manuscripts stemma representing essentially the same hypothesis as

Sukthankar's for the Adi Parvan, namely that there was no single written archetype for the whole tradition, but that for the Northern and the Southern recensions the respective secondary archetypes did exist. Not only does he find Sukthankar's primary division into Northern and Southern recensions to be valid, he emphasizes strongly that these two main branches of the manuscripts tradition diverge most radically in the case of the Viriita Parvan: "Nowhere do the two recensions recede from each other so widely as in the Virii{a. "73 He notes three especially interesting and many other minor cases of sequence variation, as well as differences in iidhyaya division, and observes that the Southern recension is much more amplified.14 He judges passage 32 of Appendix I to be nothing

72See note 4 in my Introduction for information on these editions. And again, for my criticism of this way of measuring inflation, see note 58. 73r assume that the expression "nowhere" is just for rhetorical purposes~ since he only has the first two books to refer to at this stage ... 74 Again~ being the editor of the second Parvan to be published he has only the evidence of two Parvans before him at this point.

92

but a "badly fitting replica" of what the editor refers to as Bombay 75 Ill. 272.7-24, the layadratha Vimolqa1J.a. 76 Despite the radical divergence of the recensions, there is no expansion of real magnitude - no Appendix I passage runs over 100 lines. On the other hand, the tendency to produce parallel running versions for a single recension is extraordinary ~ and seems to be continuous with the way the two recensions relate to each other. A certain location, toward the end of iidhyiiya 5, has attracted seven different alternative expansions (passages 4A,4B,4C~4D,4E,4F, &4G of Appendix

O.

Because it is impossible to reconstruct anything like an archetype for the Virata Parvan, the editor opted for the Bedierian method of editing, that is, he followed a single

branch of manuscripts, in this case the Northern, throughout. 77 This is continuous with the general editorial practice to follow N when in doubt, that Sukthankar established for the Adi Parvan; for the Viriita Parvan, however, doubt is so prevalent that it is hard to establish the superiority of either recension independently of the evidence of the other Parvans. As in the rest of the critical edition, a graphic device has been employed; where

the evidence is most undecidable, the reconstructed text has a wavy line indicating uncertainty; but in the Virata Parvan, the wavy line is ubiquitous. Out of a total of 1834 stanzas, Raghu Vira was sure of only 300 lines, and for one fourth of the entire Parvan, the sequence was far from certain.

75See my Introduction for information on the Bombay edition. 76In 1936 the Ara1Jyaka Parvan had not been edited yet, but the manuscripts may have already been collated. Otherwise, one wonders. how could he know that the Arar;zyaka passage was not itself an insertion? 77For a discussion of the Lachmannian and the Bedierian approaches to textual criticism see pp. 15-16 of my Introduction and McGann 1983,65-6; Patterson 1985,59;

Hult 1991, 117...8.

93

An assumption of some overall uniformity of textual patterns for the Mahabhiirata

has to underlie the editor's choice of N over S as "best text," since the evidence of the Viriira Parvan alone does not support this choice. We shall see that such uniformity of

textual patterns did not exis~ so this procedure is particularly problematic in the case of the Virata Parvan. It is

no~ however~

a completely arbitrary editorial choice. Some choice

had to be made .. and this option is in harmony with the forward-looking purpose of the edition, to provide a unified text for future cultural work. The Virii{a Parvan, Raghu VIra notes~ was highly popular and often recited. The "intensive life" of both recensions accounts, he suggests, for their extreme mutual diversity. As an example or as proof of the Parvan's special popularity and importance he cites the custom of many reciters to commence MaJzabhiirata recitations with the Vira[a Parvan rather than with the Adi Parvan. He does no~ however, provide a specific theory

explaining how frequent recitation could have brought about the observed state of affairs. I see how frequent recitation would cause the manuscripts to branch out radically from an archetype. It might even occasionally create parallel versions when two or more different insertions occur in the very same place, but it cannot account for such a high frequency of parallel running passages. The same question arises with regard to the Kal7)a Parvan, where there are also many parallel running versions, compounded with numerous sequential transpositions. 78 V aidy~ the editor of the Ka17)a Parvan, suggests that the text of that Parvan has been fluid for a very long time. In other words, he suggest an unusually long period of oral transmission before fixing. I believe one must also posit the

independent and perhaps gradual fixing in writing of separate recensions, or even of branches of these recensions~ to account for such radical diversion.

78Below section 1.3.3.

94

(V) Udyoga Parvan: A long Parvan (6063 stanzas). S. K. De's reconstruction of the

manuscript stemma for the Udyoga Parvan is similar again to Sukthankar's reconstruction for the Adi Parvan. He notes. however. that unlike the case of the Ad; and the Vira{ll Parvans. for the Udyoga, the divergence between N and S is slight. Both in N and in S there are a number of sequential transpositions and substitutions of stanzas or short passage, as well as minor expansions which are easily separable. There are differences in adhyaya division. On the whole? the reconstructed text runs smoothly, with little need of the graphic device of the wavy line indicating uncertainty. though there is one exception: for the Sanatsujata passage the divergences are more serious. Excluding this unit. for the Udyoga Parvan the distinction into "North" and "South" indicates something different than it does for the Virata Parvan. There occurred a separate. though not too intense branching out of the recensions, but the relationship of the resulting manuscript families is much easier to reconstruct because of the existence of a common archetype. Following Sukthankar's method, De finds that for the Udyoga Parvan, as for [he AraT.lyaka Parvan, the Northern recension is more "inflated" than the Southern (the Vulgate has 7656 and the Kumbhakonam has 6753 stanzas).79

(vn Bhl$T1lQ. Parvan:

This is a rather long Parvan (5406 stanzas). Despite its

common designation as a War Book, large portions of this Parvan are not battle descriptions. Belvalkar notes that the bulk of the Parvan reads quite smoothly. There are some exceptions, e.g., a hymn to Diirga (diirgastotra) inserted before the BhagavadgCta (in B and most D manuscripts); a Sveta episode (end of first day), and some expansions to the Bhagavadglta found in the K versions. Still, percentage-wise~ the magnitude of expansions is less than in any of the previous Parvans. Belvalkar attributes this remarkable regularity to the presence of the "highly authoritative" Bhagavadglta which, he suggests,

79 Again, for

my reservations see note 58.

95

acted as a kind of check to the impulse to expand. 80 He notes that the text of the

Bhagavadglta which emerges after the application of the same canons of text criticism which were applied to the rest of the Mahabharata. coincides with the text to which the influential Advaita philosopher Sailkaracarya gave the weight of his authority.81 In his view, this supports the hypothesis that the early fIXing of this Parvan is connected with the Gzta's great prestige. But why should the effect of the flXing of the Guo. spread to the rest of the Parvan? On the contrary, the materials assembled by Belvalkar himself provide plenty of evidence for the separate transmission of the G[tii. They show that the Gztii was written on separate manuscripts and probably recited and studied by a different set of people than the ones who transmitted the rest of the Parvan. One must also consider the general problem of explanations which cannot be tested against anything because they apply to a single case. (Vll) DroT)a Parvan: It is the second and longest of the "War Books" (8112 official

stanzas). Its subject matter is almost exclusively battle descriptions. with only one outstanding digression. As long as the Parvan is, Appendix I is quite slim, only 25 passages, and all but one of these passages are well under 100 verses long. Passage 8 is the exception, having as many as 920 lines. It is found in all of the manuscripts except one S and one K manuscript. The subject matter of this passage also diverges from the running battle description of which the rest consists. It is an interesting combination of myth and legend. The editor S. K. De. suggests that it was inserted for the purpose of relief from the 7

monotony of battle description, but such an explanation is as hard to prove as my own

80M.Bh. BOR! vol. 7, cxvi. 81This result too has been contested. Personal communication by Sheldon Pollock.

96

speculation that the editors were sometimes hard pressed to provide some kind of explanation for the vagaries of the text. The passage has near parallels in the Siinti Parvan~ (The Mrtyu~ Sriijaya and the $o¢asariijak(va episodes. XII. 29-31: 248-250), though they are not combined into a single unit there as they are here. De treats the DrofJ.a combined version as a secondary elaboration of the Santi P arYan versions. Section lA. deals extensively with this passage and with its Siinti Parvan parallels. On the whole. the divergences between the recensions of the DrofJ.a Parvan are only minor. There are different local readings, omissions or additions of a verse or two. There are some cases of sequential transpositions but they are attested only in minor branches of manuscripts" and some substituted passages (parallel running versions) but most are only a line or two long. There are differences in ad/zyiiya divisions. The Southern recension is found to be slightly longer than the Nonhem" again. according to the questionable measurement procedure set by Sukthankar. 82 (VIII) KarT].a Parvan: This is the third War Book. It covers days 16-17, when Kart)a was general .. and the death of KaI1J.a. The Parvan is of medium length (3871 stanzas) and has no subparvans. The book consists mostly of battle description. but there are some interesting di versions from the straightforward battle account, mostly in the form of verbal duels. 83 This Parvan stands out among the War Books in that the two recensions radically diverge from each other. There are numerous sequential transpositions. both between the recensions and between secondary groups of manuscripts, and some of them are rather long. 84 Cases of substitution or parallel running text are also numerous. The wavy line

82Note 58. 83These are extensively discussed in Part II. 84For instance, in the Northern recension Arjuna fights with the Sarpsaptakas twice, once on each day, and in the Southern recension, once. The passage in N which

97

indicating uncertainty has been used very often. In this respect.. the KarT].a Parvan can only be compared with the Virata Parvan. There are insertions in both recensions, with more occurring in the Southern manuscripts. Appendix I has 44 passages~ though none that exceeds 130 lines. Vaidya also notes the unusual range of meters found in the Parvan. 85 It is also unusual that the reconstructed text falls quite short (by at least 500 stanzas) of the Parvasarpgraha figures given for this book.86 The editor, Vaidy~ concludes that the text of this Parvan has been fluicL by which he probably means oral, for a very long time, but as I explain in my discussion of the Viriita Parvan, one wonders whether the situation might also be the result of gradual independent fixing in writing of separate branches. (IX) Salya Parvan: This is the last War Book, covering the last day of the battle. The Tlrthayiitra subparvan is a long break in the ongoing battle narration.. The Salya Parvan is a medium length Parvan (3293 stanzas). Its textual state is strikingly uniform, and the differences between the recensions is slight. Variant readings are relatively few; additions and omissions are even fewer. Appendix I has only five items~

only one of them over 100 lines long, and not one expansion or omission is

exclusive to an entire recension. There is no significant case of transposition, either. The Sarada version appears to have preserved the archetype of the Parvan in a more or less

describes the fight as taking place on the first day (M.Bh. BOR! VIII. 12. 1-17.29) is found in S in the place where N has the account of the second encounter. 8SThere are 615 tri,ytubh verses, 4 maIinl, some relatively late meters like rathoddhata, aparavaktra and vaJ'!lsastha. None of these is later than the Gupta period, though, which is the accepted last stage of redaction, so Vaidya concludes that the variety of meters provides no ground to argue that this Parvan is later than me others to enter the Mahiibhiirata. 86M.Bh. BORI vol. 10, xxxiv.

98

pristine

forrn~

As a result. the criticalI y reconstructed text does not differ greatly from the

manuscripts. and there were few occasions to use the wavy line. (X)

Sauptika Pan'an: This Parvan is related to the War Books but is not properly

one of them. 87 It is a shon Parvan (about 800 slokas). The two recensions hardly diverge. Appendix [has only a single (30 lines) passage. There is a single minor case of transposition (6 lines). (XI) StrT Parvan: This too is a shon Parvan (less then 1.000 stanzas). Appendix I

has a single passage (44 lines). The editor. Vasudev Gopal Paranjpe, raises some unusual questions. He observes with respect to sequence variation that there is no clear pattern which marks the recensions and manuscript subgroups of the Slrl Parvan from each other. Rather. manuscripts in each group agree and disagree in random fashion. 88 More interestingly, Paranjpe has a radical theory with regard to the single Appendix I passage which has been relegated to Appendix I on the basis of its absence in the Southern recension. He argues that the first eight adhyiiyas of the SlrT Pan'an. known as the Visoka subparvan. are a late insertion.

despite being universally auested. In his view. the Appendix I passage is an older version of the same textual unit. once universally attested. but later "suppressed" in the Southern tradition because it became redundant after the Visoka subparvan entered the manuscripts. Whether intentionally or not~ Paranjpe has raised one of the more serious problems which has haunted the text critical method applied to the Mahiiblziirata in the BORI edition. namely the question of omissions. 89

87S ee

note 98 below.

88The group S1, 52. KO, K4 is an exception. The affinity of these four manuscripts is confirmed by similarity of verse sequence. 89S ee extended discussion section 1.2.2.1 ..

99 (XII) Santi Parvan: This is the longest Parvan in the Mahiibhiirata. It is divided

into three subparvans: Riijadharma Parvan. Apaddharma Parvan. and Mok$adharma

Parvan. The Riijadhanna and the Molqadhanna especially have tended to develop their own separate manuscript traditions. The editor, S. K. Belvalkar, regarded this basic texthistorical fact as a problem, and tried to overcome it by restricting himself to using manuscripts which cover the whole Parvan, but this was not always possible, since there were not sufficient manuscriptsof that type available. 90 This is one more example of the editors' reluctance or resistance to recognize the multiplicity of the production history of the textual tradition they were dealing with. The Rajadharma Parvan is rather bulky and strikingly regular. The 13 passages which have been relegated to Appendix I are all short (all under 100 lines, mostly around

30 lines). Of these, 7 belong to S. The Apaddharma Parvan is medium length and even more regular than the Riijadharma Parvan: no passages have been relegated to Appendix I at all, though the notes give two substitutes (that is alternative, parallel running passages), 21 and 40 lines long. 91 The Mo~adharma Parvan contains more philosophical material than any other Parvan, especially proto-Siirikhya material.92 As to size, it is on a par with the longest Mahiibharata Parvans. It also has a somewhat more noticeable Appendix I. Of the 19 passages of Appendix. L, passages 15, 17A, 17B, 17C, 18, 19,20, 29A & 29B are in the

90M.Bh. BORI vol. 13,4. 91M.Bh. BOR! vol. 14,921 and 924.

92Materials which do not quite confonn with the classical Siirikhya doctrine, and are either earlier, or come from a different strand of Sarikhya thought. M.Bh. BaR! vol. 15, vii.

100

100-300 lines range, and (the Northern) Appendix 1.28 has 435 lines. 93 Notice also that there are two cases of parallel running passages, namely Appendix 1.17 A. B &C; and Appendix 1. 29 A & B, and that the first of these branches out into three alternative readings. The Moqadharma also contains some prose passages. (XllI) Anusasana Parvan: This is a long Parvan (6536 stanzas), and very irregular,

in the sense that after the fIXing of the recensions., the text has attracted a lot of expansions. Appendix I is as long as the medium length Parvans. It has 29 items, some of which are very long. For instance Passage 15 of Appendix I is the longest of all Appendix I passages in the entire Mahobharata textual tradition: it has 4695 lines, that is, about 2,347 stanzas. A medium length Parvan like the Aivamedhika Parvan has 2,862 stanzas. Appendix 1. 3 has 340 line plus a substantial prose passage, and some manuscripts have an additional expansion, 3A, of 570 lines; Appendix. I. 10, 11, 14 and 20 are in the 400-600 lines range. The tendency to expand on this Parvan is common to both the Northern and the Southern recensions. The above mentioned giant passage, Appendix 1.15, is also a "substitution", a case of parallel running texts. In other words, the Southern manuscripts (and the related manuscript 010) have an alternative version for XIII. 126-134.94 Both are a dialogue between Parvatl and Siva, an "Uma-Mahesvara Sarpvad~" but the Southern Sarpvada is much Ionger. 95 Despite the massive expansion that the Parvan has undergone, besides

93M.Bh. BORI vol. 16,2049-2074.

94The Kumbhakonam and the Madras editions follow S. The commentator Vadidija (known from a single manuscript from Mysore) also gives the S passage. This commentary which covers almost ail of the M.Bh. does not give the text~ and usually accounts for the additional passages which occur in S, but does not follow S consistently. It sometimes accounts for passages inserted only in N, and even for passages which are found neither in N nor in S! 95M.Bh. BORI vol. 17/2,922-1030.

lOt

this case of parallel running versions, once the expansions have been sorted out, an underlying archetype can quite clearly be reconstructed. The wavy line has been employed mostly to mark local variant readings, not to mark parallel running texts. In £his sense, the

Anuiasana Parvan does not resemble the Virii!a and the Kan:za Parvans, where large portions of the text run paralleL The editor, R. N. Dandekar, ex.plains that the textual state of the Anu.Scisana Parvan results from the very loose way in which its subject matter is defined. He believes that lithe redactors over the ages regarded this Parvan as .. almost the last opportunity fOT a free play U

of their propensities."96 But considering how varied the subject matter of other Parvans is, I find this explanation weak. The question, in my view, remains unanswered: why did the

Anuiasana Parvan attract more expansions than other Parvans? (XIV) Aivamedhika Parvan: A medium length Parvan (2,862 stanzas). Appendix

I has only four passages. One of them, however, is very long (3,445 lines). It is present in almost all Southern manuscripts and in no Northern manuscript, and it has a name, the

Vai.roavadharma. Apart from this noticeable discrepancy between the recensions, the textual situation is very straightforward.

(XV) Airamaviisika Parvan: 1062 verses. Very regular, No Appendix I. (XVI) Mausala Parvan: 273 verses. Very regular. Appendix I has a single 20 lines

passage attested in some T and G manuscripts

(XVII) Mahiiprasthanika Parvan: 106 verses. Very regular. No Appendix I. (XVllI) SvargarohaT)a Parvan: 194 verses. Very regular. Appendix I has 2

passages (20 and 55 lines) both found only in one manuscript

96M.Bh. BORr vol. 17/2, xlvii.

(02

1.3.4. Heterogeneity of Textual Production: Overview and Conclusions The fIrst and most important phenomenon that our review of the materials provided by the critical edition of the Mahabharata brings to light is the very lack of unifonnity between the Parvans. Whereas the manuscripts of some Parvans, such as the Udyoga?

Bhl$1Tla, and Sauptika Parvans, or the four last Parvans, diverge only slightly there are t

other Parvans, like Adi, Vira{a, KaT7).a and the Anusasana, the manuscripts of which widely (and in

fac~

wildly) diverge from one another.

1.3.4.1. Types of Manuscript Tradition: I distinguish three basic types among the manuscript traditions described. This classification in tum points to three very different types of textual production I transmission history I reception history. (a) For the Adi Parvan, and even more so for the Ka17)a and the Viriita Parvans, it seems that oral transmission continued for a very long period before the text was committed to writing, and that when that kind of ftxing finally happened, it occurred in different places and times independently, resulting in the highly divergent Northern and Southern recensions. Furthermore, even after the text was committed to writing, expansion continued heavily. In the case of the Kan;a Parvan, the tendency to develop independent versions continues into the expansion activities, with one case of seven alternatives for a single passage attested. (b)The above case (a) should be clearly distinguished from cases like that of the

Anu.fiisana Parvan where there is a large amount of divergent material~ but where there are much fewer cases of parallel running text or of sequential transposition. The analysis of the manuscripts points here to a common underlying text or archetype which the reconstructed text approximates. In such cases, the branching out of the recensions was a very intense process in itself, but it took place only after the establishment of a single common archetype.

103

(C) For Parvans like Udyoga, Salya, Sauptika and the four last Parvans~ the ex.istence

of a single underlying archetype is easily established - the critical text is a very close approximation of it. In these cases it is clear that after the text has been fixed in writing, not much happened to it. The branching out of manuscripts in the transmission process was not only subsequent and secondary, as in the case of the AnuiQsana Parvan~ but also insignificant. I have distinguished between three ideal types. Types (b) and (c) are of course the extremes of a spectrum - some Parvans have been significantly, but not wildly expanded on, and they would fall between the categories. The Sabha Parvan is a good example. The Sabha Parvan., however., stands out in another way: it has three independent branches, West, East and South, rather than two, North and South. This is to say that the branching out of manuscripts from the primary archetype occurred independently in the North-West and in the North-East in the case of this Parvan. It was

Edgerton~

the editor of

the Sabhii Parvan, who pointed out that a certain illusion may be created by uniformly using the tenns "Northern and Southern recensions" to describe the textual situation of radically divergent cases. As he puts it., in the case of the Sabha Parvan, no historical entity corresponds to the term "Northern recension." Similarly, we are not referring to the same textual history when speaking of the "recensions" of the Ka17J.a Parvan, as when we refer to the "recensions" of the Anuiasana Parvan. "Recensions" are only theoretical constructions, analytical tools which should be used only as long as they help us describe types of textual production; they should not be reified. The central finding of the Parvan census is that the process of production was heterogeneous on a large scale for the Mahabharata. For some parts, described in (c), one may speak of a single final formative moment -- a final redaction, which probably took place by fixing the text in writing. Whether this was preceded by a lengthy and locally varied oral and perhaps also written fonnation

process~

we can attempt to find out by

104

comparison with other sources from that period. Still. for the Vyasa Malziihhiirata itsel[ this final writing-down is in these cases of paramount importance~ in the sense that after it occurred, its product for some reason stabilized. This resulted either in cessation of the oral or alternative writing traditions or in their isolation and marginalization from the now normative Vyasa Mahabhiirata tradition. For parts described in (b), it is more problematic to speak of textual identity. Though the existence of a written archetype means that a singular moment of writing down has occurred, this moment for some reason did not become definitive of the text in these cases. The prolific process of amplification in writing which succeeded this moment must be counted as another important defining factor in the textual traditionrs history. For these portions, our common-sense distinctions between production on the one hand and interpretation and reception on the other are not easily applicable. Finally, for the Parvans described in (a), the total absence of a single unifying moment radically challenges cornmon-sense notions of textual identity, and calls for a different theory of textuality .

1.3.4.2. A Hypothesis Examined: Perhaps some form of textual classification thematic, formal or relating to genre - might help us to impose order on the heterogeneity of the production process which we have discovered? Perhaps certain kinds of Parvans tend to develop, or even to be

produced~

in certain ways, and other kinds, in other ways? I

have considered a number of such categories, and the following is the result of my investigations: a) Boundary Books or Marginal Books: Just as the Adi Parvan, being the first. is one of the least regular parts of the whole Mahabharata, one might expect that the temptation to speculate on the outcome of the protagonists' trials and its meaning would cause the final book or books to attract numerous expansions and perhaps even to have parallel running versions. This is not the case, however. The last four books are

105

surprisingly regular. It seems that the impulse to revise~ to expand~ to play around with alternatives was directed more towards beginnings and origins than it was toward outcomes and closure. The ifra1J.yaka Parvan is neither in the beginning nor in the end, yet it can be argued that it has a liminal status within the text, being a kind of interlude, in which the Pfu).f)ava heroes retreat to the "forest," away from political life, and spend their time listening to stories and religious instruction. Despite this liminal status, this Parvan is hardly comparable to the Adi Parvan in the complexity of its manuscript situation. Though there are some divergent materials, the branching out of the recensions is easily reconstructed, and an archetype certainly existed. And finally, there is nothing marginal or extrinsic in any way about the KartJ,a Parvan; yet, its manuscript traditions are even less unified than those of the Mi Parvan!

Thus, being on the boundary or marginal to the "main narrative simply cannot be a lt

factor in determining the formation of the manuscript tradition. b) Doctrinal Books: The Santi and AnuSasana Parvans (XTI-XIII) also seem to form a natural group. The AnuSasana Parvan is consecutive to the Santi Parvan, and the narrative frame for both is the same: the Santi Parvan consists ofBhI~ma's teachings to Yudhi~thira,

which he imparts to him while lying on the bed of arrows, and the Anusasana

Parvan, as its name denotes, is a "second teaching" or an extension - albeit a very lengthy

one - of the same teaching. The whole mass of the Anusasana Parvan is justified simply by Yudhi~P1ira'5 statement, that the teaching 50 far imparted has not satisfied him. Though the Parvasa1Jlgraha and most manuscripts of both recensions regard the Anusasana

Parvan as a separate book, there exists an independent tradition, evident from a number of extant manuscripts as well as from a commentary by Yadiraja, which counts the AnuSasana as a subparvan of the Santi Parvan (which is anyhow composed of three quite

106

independent subparvans).97 Both Parvans constitute a (very long) diversion - mostly doctrinal, though legends and the like are also incorporated - from the "main narrative." In both, narrative time stands still, as it were. (In that way they are akin to the Ara1)yaka Parvan but they are obviously a distinct group).

Might we not expect, on the grounds of such a clear family relationship, to find some similarity of the manuscript situation? Could this type of doctrinal-narrative "digression" from the "main" narrative be more prone to expansion than the "main" narrative portions? The evidence leads me to conclude that the answer to this question has to be negative. While the manuscript tradition of the Santi Parvan - especially of the Rajadhanna and the Apaddhanna subparvans - is remarkably unifonn, the Anusasana Parvan has attracted more expansions than any other Parvan in the Mahabharata, though it does not have as many parallel running passages. c. The War Books: Bhl$ma. Dro1)a, Kal7].a. Saiya, Parvans VI-IX.98 These four consecutive books fonn a natural group again in that they all recount the events of the battIe at the heart of the Mahabharata. This battIe lasted 18 days: Bhzpna Parvan covers days 1-10; Dro1)a Parvan, days 11-15; Kan:za Parvan, days 16-17 and Satya Parvan, day 18.

In all four, the narrator is Saiijaya and the listener is the blind Dhrt:ar~tra.

97M.Bh. BOR! vol. 17/2, xliii-xliv and xxxviii. 98The Sauptika Parvan covers the night after the last day of the battle. Though it deals with a mass killing, the Sauptika Parvan is not a War Book in the same way as the Bhl~ma, Dro1)a. Kan:za and Salya Parvans are, and this for a number of reasons. Its killing scene is not a battIe, but a grotesque distortion of heroic fighting. It does not have the typical frame device, namely, Saiijaya's announcing of a hero's death to D~tra and his subsequent recounting to the king's request of how that hero was slain. The sacrificil trope is central to it, as Hiltebeitel has shown (1976, 312-335), and this is not the case for books VI-IX. For similar reasons, the Virata Parvan and the Aivamedhika Parvan, which contain battle descriptions, and the Mausala Parvan, which is about a mass mutual massacre, are not "War Books" proper. Rather, they should all be considered under the rubric of reflections or variations on heroic and battle themes.

107

The War Books were not critically edited by the same person~ nor was their editing completed at the same time. For instance ythe Bhl.yma Parvan .. the first War Booky was published sixth, in 1948, whereas the Sa/ya Parvan was all but last to be published (1961). Nevertheless BelvaIkaryeditor of the Bh~sma Parvan made an interesting attempt to study y

the internal arrangement of these books as a group. He argued that two different schemes of narration have been juxtaposed in the War Books y and that the juxtaposition" seriously upsets the sequential narration of the war events." According to Belvalkaryat first there was a simple scheme in which Sanjaya narrates to Dhrtar~tra the events of each day at the end of that day. Onto this scheme was "superimposed" "a narrational trick" by some "latter day VyasaId (sic)." This alternative scheme is in his view attested in Bhl$11W

Parvan 14-15 yas well as in DroT)Q Parvan (Belvalkar refers us to the Bombay edition8II) and in Ka17)a Parvan (again we are referred to Bombay 1-9).99 According to this other scheme ySafijaya stays at the battlefield most of the time and comes back to narrate to Dhn~tra only on a few key occasions.

In the Bhl$ma Parvan, he does so after the tenth

day (BhI$ma's death); in the Dro1J,Q Parvan, he comes after the fifteenth day y and in the KaT1)a Parvan, after the seventeenth day. Belvalkar argues that the combination of these

inconsistent schemes occurred before the fixing of the text in the fonn reconstructed by the critical edition, so that it cannot be excised by methods of iower criticism. 100 Belvalkar himself is careful not to claim that the "narrational trick" was necessarily imposed onto the earlier scheme by the same redactor for the three books in question, but the situation he describes strongly suggests the possibility of a unified redaction in the process of which the second narrational scheme was added. The manuscript situation of these book does not support such a hypothesis yhowever. Despite their common theme

99See my Introduction for description of the Bombay edition.

lOOM.Bh. BORI vol. 7 ycxxiii and Belvalkar 1946 y310-331, especially 322-326. y

108

and narrative frame. the textual state of these four books differs greatly. The difference between the KanJ.a Parvan and the Salya Parvan is the most striking. The Kar1J.a Parvan is comparable only to the Virii[a Parvan in the extant to which its Northern and Southem recensions

diverge~

indicating that the text was committed to writing independently on at

least two separate occasions. The manuscript tradition of the Sa/ya Parvan. on the other hand .. is one of the most uniform in the Mahabharata. The reconstructed tex.t of the Sa/ya Parvan is so close to manuscripts of both the Northern and the Southern recensions. that to

devide the manuscripts into recensions is almost misleading. IOI The manuscript traditions of the Bhc$ma and the DroTJa Parvans are also relatively uniform. with only minor differences between the Northern and the Southern recensions. Belvalkar attributed the early fixing of the Bhl$ma Parvan to the presence of the Bhagavadguii. the high scriptural status of which might have effected the whole Parvan.

but this is not a satisfactory explanation. The Guii was usually separately transmitted. being treated as a unit in itself. and therefore could not have determined the transmision history of the Bhl$ma Parvan. 102 Furthermore. the examples of the Sa/ya Pan-an and of the Kar1J.a

IOI Let us ignore for the moment Belvalkar's bias in favor of what he construes as the "original." (an issue with which I deal at length in my Introduction), and his naive assumption that the Mahribhiirata text ultimately narrates "real events" (e.g. "How could Saiijaya report an event if he was not there?"). Still, one wonders: how does Belvalkar know whether the Bhl$ma passage Bombay 8-1 I and the Dro1'].a passage Bombay 1-9, which he judges to be later or secondary, can or cannot be excised by methods of lower criticism? He is writing in 1947; the edition of the KanJ.a Parvan was undertaken in 1943, so that the part in question was already critically studied and privately available to him, though it was only published in 1954 (he actually refers to it, but cansnot give the place references). The manuscript analysis for the DroTJ.a Parvan. however, was only undertaken a year after the publication of this article, and it was published only in 1958. It turns out. however, that Bel valkar was right. and the DroTJ.a passage too was not judged to be an insertion by the manuscript evidence.

102M.Bh.BOR! volume 7. xiii-xv; lvi-Ixxxv.

109

Parvan show that other factors may have been just as decisive in determining the

manuscript history of a War Parvan. Since the Kar1]a Parvan is !:he Parvan !:hat differs most from the other three. might we perhaps learn more if we could isolate something about the KarlJ.a Pan'an which explains its particular state? The trouble is that unless we can point to the same factor in conjunction wilh a similar textual state in another War Book. we will not be able to verify that we have identified the decisive factor. It would be an unfalsifiable hypothesis. like many of the well intended explanations offered by the editors of the different books to account for the peculiarities of these books' manuscript traditions. 1.3.4.3. Irreducible Heterogeneity: We have clearly established the heterogeneity of textual production for the Mahiibhiirata. We have not succeeded, however. in linking this variable with any other variable, thematic or formal. [t seems that there are no easy solutions. One form of heterogeneity cannot easily be reduced to the other, and no single explanation appears to cover all !:he cases in a given category. We remain with unanswered questions. Why were some parts of the lWahiibhiiraca independently redacted in different places and times. and other parts subjected to a central act of unifying and fixing in writing? Why did some pans attract subsequent intervention. and others not? And finally, how should these facts about the Mahribhiirata's production history infonn our reading of the Mahiibhiirata as a textual entity ?

110

1.4. A Limit Case (M.Bh. BOR! Xll.29? Xll.248-2S0, and M.Bh. BORI

vn

Appendix 1.8)

1.4.1. Expansion .. Repetition. Transposition. Near-Universal Attestation. or What? This section deals with a group of extremely similar textual units which appear in two different Parvans in almost all of the Mahiibhiirata manuscript traditions. My purpose is to raise. through the discussion of this set of examples, some questions of textual identity with regard to the Mahabharata. 103 I have deliberately chosen a unique case. a case that is so complicated that I know of no other case just like it. It is not exactly a case of repetition. nor is it one of variants of the same narrative told in two different places. It involves three sub-units which are differently combined and arranged in the two different Parvans. These complications certainly make it interesting, but some readers might object that the very uniqueness of the example makes it useless for a general study of the Mahiibhiirata. I do not accept this abjection. There seems ta be a desire to manage the Mahiibhiirata, to reduce it ta ane principle or other.

My purpase is to demonstrate the very complexity and richness of the issues involved in theorizing the textual situation of the Mahabharata. I think of the set of units we are about to examine not as an aberration but as a limit case where problems that are present in many other parts of the Mahiibhiirata intersect.

1.4.2. The Building Blocks 1.4.2.1. The $ot;iasariijaklya, or The Praise of the Sixteen-Kings, is a poem in praise of sixteen kings of hoary antiquity -- that is, kings who lived ages before the main events of the Mahiibhiirata supposedly took place and whose legends have a paradigmatic 103 Alf Hiltebeitel

has briefly commented on these units, but his concerns are different. See Hiltebeitel 1976~ 346-349.

III

status even for the Mahiibhiirata's protagonists themselves. The refrain of the poem points out that even though all these famous kings were virtuous and great patrons of the Vedic sacrifice. nevenheless they were ail subject to death. The $o4aiarajak~va can cenainly be read as a reflection on the inevitability of death~ and as a praise of dharrnic behavior in the face of death. but as we shall see. other themes are present as well. for instance. the specifically religious-political theme of the royal duty to patronize the Vedic cult and its upholders. the brahmans. The whole point of my reading is to show that the contextualization. the framing. as well as the subtle nuances of the different versions. open up different possible readings. I.4.2.2. The MrlYukathii or The Story of Lady Death is about the origin of Mrtyu. "Lady Death." This goddess was created by Brahma-Prajapati to solve the problem of the rapid overpopulation of the eanh. Death. and the cycle of death and rebirth. are presented here as the more benign alternative. conceived by the creator in order to save his creation from the worst option of the total and final destruction of all creatures. Some destruction was inevitable. however. because the earth had to be saved from her intolerable burden of too many creatures.

1.4.2.3. The story of king Srnjaya and his son

SuvarlJa~{hivin."

In the DrofJ,a

Parvan. only the Socjasarrijak~va, and in the Siinti Parvan. both the $or!asariijak[ya and the Mrryukatha are framed as having been previously told by Narada to a certain king, Srfijaya. to console him after his son,

SuvarIJ~~ivin,

died.

Suva.rtJ.~thivin

means "He

who spits gold" and indeed Su v aI1Ja.ghivin was a boy with the wonderous gift that not only his

saliv~

but ail of his bodily products were made of gold.

None of these three stories has any direct narrative connection to the main story of the

Mahabharata. They do not happen in the same time frame and no causal connection is claimed between their events and the events with which the main story of the

112

Mahiibhiirata is concerned. The connection is.

rather~

thematic and reflexive: all three are

about death. a central thematic concern of the Mahabhiirara.

1.4.3. The Textual Units.

Versions~

Frames, Contex.t and Content.

Each of the above themes is treated in almost all the extant manuscripts twice: once in the Santi Parvan and once in the Dro1].a Parvan. In the Siinti Parvan, the two first episodes appear separately and in different contexts (the $orjasariijakTya or The Praise of the Sixteen-Kings in XII. 29: the Mrryukathii or The Story of Death in XII.248-250).

In the Drol')a Parvan. the same t'"vo units are juxtaposed and embedded within a frame which brings out their common theme. The complex combined passage containing these two episodes is absent in the DrolJa Parvan only from one of the two extant Sarada (KaSmiri) manuscripts. and from the five KaSmiri Devanagari manuscripts which are basically Devanagari transcripts of that same Sarada manuscript. For this reason, the unit has been relegated to VIT. Appendix.

I~

passage no. 8.

The Siinti version of the Praise of the Sixteen Kings is part of the Riijadharma subparvan. The context is as follows.

Yudhi~thira

is grieving for the death of his kinsmen

on both sides of the warring factions. He blames himself for their death and determines, in his despair. to take his own life. Vyasa and then Krgla intervene. This is where the $orjasariijak~va comes in - it is recited by Kr~t)a to console Yudhi~thira. Kr~t)a briefly

frames its recitation by mentioning that it was previously told by Narada to another king, named Sriijaya. after his son died. When in

Kr~Qa's

version Narada completes the Praise

of the Sixteen-Kings, Srfijaya proclaims that he is so profoundly consoled by it that he

feels no more pain over his son's death, yet goes on to contradict himself immediately, by begging Narada to ease his pain further by restoring his son to life. The son, Suva.rQ~thivin

(his name is introduced only at this stage), is indeed miraculously and

mercifully restored.

Yudhi~thira,

the narrattee, seems to be drawn into this tale of death

113

and resurrection despite his grief. He is apparantly more attracted by the optimistic miracle-tale than by the more sober Praise of the Sixteen-Kingsy

though~

because he goes

on to inquire not about the duties of kings but rather about the boy's strange name "He 7

who spits gold and about the circumstances of his birth, life and early death. y"

The Santi version of The Story of Lady Death is part of the Mok~adharma subparvan. It is put in the mouth of BhI~ma., and again, it is told in order to console Yudhi~thira,

who here too is shaken by the death of so many warriors.

Yudhi~thira

is

moved by his grief to inquire, one might say philosophically in the spirit of the subparvan, y

about the nature of death. The MrtJukathii has its own little frame story too, and the frame is the same in the Santi and the Dro1')a Parvans. The M[tyulcatha is said to have been addressed by the sage ~arada to king Anukampaka (as he is called in the Santi Parvan) or Akampana (in the Drol)a Parvan), again. to console that king for the loss of his son who died in battle. In the Santi Parvan, which is narrated by BhI~m~ the frame is doubled: BhI~ma tells Yudhi~thira the Mrtyu story "just as it has been told" by the sage Niirada to

king Anukampaka. In the Dro1)a Parvan., The Story of Lady Death and the Praise of the Sixteen Kings are combined into a single complex unit, which has been relegated to Appendix I

(no.8). The Story of Lady Death immediately precedes here the Praise of the Sixteen kings. The whole combined unit is addressed to Yudhi~thira. Here

Yudhi~thira

is

grieving and enraged over the death in unequal combat of his nephew, Arjuna's child, Abhimanyu. Vyasa himself comes to console him. First, Vyasa speaks philosophically of the inevitability of death. In response to this dispassionate counsel,

Yudhi~tihira

goes into

a lament over the death of brave warriors in general and into a more philosophical questioning of death itself - an interesting variation of the lament and questioning of death which provides the opening for the Santi version of the MJ1Yukatha.. Vyasa then goes on to tell Yudhi~thira the story of Mrtyu, with basically the same frame as in the Santi

114

Parvan~

"just as it has been told (by Narada) to king Akampana."

Yudhi~thira seems

somewhat consoled by this tale, but requests to hear yet another consoling piece, the

Praise 0/ the Sixteen Kings, and Vyasa goes on to tell him that story, too. The complex Dro,!)a unit is a more ambitious synthesis. It relates two sub-stories,

The Story

0/ lAdy Death and the Praise o/the Sixteen Kings, both to Yudhi~thira's

emotions of grief and outrage, and to the broader philosophical questions about the nature of death. In the Santi Parvan, Yudhi~thira finds out about SuvaI1J~thivints premature and

unnatural death only after the Praise of the Sixteen Kings has been recited. In lhe DroT)a version, the frame story about Srfijaya and his son SuvaI1J~thivin is narrated in a more straightforward chronological order. First the circumstances of the boy's birth, lhen how he came to be called by his strange name, then his untimely death, then his father's sorrow over his death, and finally the recitation of the Praise o/the Sixteen-Kings, in order to console him. As a reSUlt, the similarity between the specific circumstances of SuvaI1J~thivin's

death and those of Abhimanyu's death is enhanced. It is clear from the

outset that both kings are not only grieving over the death of a close relative, a son in one case and a nephew in the other, but are also enraged over what seems an untimely and unnatural dealh. In the Drol')a version .. too, the boy is finally revived. However, as a result of the

more straightforward narrative line of the Srfijaya episode in the Dro1JO. version, the grieving Yudhi~t:hira is here forced to wait much longer before his consoler,

Vyasa~

finally

informs him of the boy's miraculous revival. First he must hear alllhe details of the boy's birth. Unlike in lhe Santi version, here Srfijaya seems to truly attain equanimity as a result of listening to the Praise 0/ the Sixteen-Kings, since when offered a boon by Narad~ he asks for nothing, even though he could have asked for the boy's revival! Yet, his son is revived -- despite, or perhaps because of - this astonishing display of detachment. Srfijaya

115

proceeds to offer many sacrifices~ just like those sixteen kings of old did. Only one doubt remains in

Yudhi~thira's

heart: if Srfijaya's boy was

revived~

why can Abhimanyu not be

similarly revived? Vyasa explains this too. Srfijaya's boy, he says, was rightly revived, because he died before fulfilling the purpose of his being, since he had no children, perfonned no sacrifices, achieved no heroic action. Abhimanyu's case is different: he died heroically in battle and will attain heaven~ so Yudhi~thira should accept his death with equanimity and not hope for a miracle. The miraculous revival of the dead child may seem at odds~ in both the Santi Parvan and the Drof)a Parvan, with the theme of dispassionate acceptance of death. It may suggest that the inevitability of death is not absolute, that there is some "loophole" of grace or some magic way out of death. That discordant note is present, I think, in both versions. However, it is somewhat neutralized in the DroIJa version, because here the revival is conditional and temporary. The neat closure incorporates the miracle tale but subordinates it to the main theme of the dharmic life and the importance of detachment. The Santi narrative arrangement is more open-ended. After an eloquent explanation of the inevitability of death~ suddenly a resurrection! Neither of the two themes is subordinated to the other. My intention here is not to pass ajudgment, that one version or another is better because it is more or less consistent, more or less chronologically narrated, or more or less open. I simply want to point out that the very placement of the two episodes in different frames makes interesting difference in meaning arise.

116

1.4.4. Independent Forms of the $o(iaiariijak~va. 1.4.4.1. Not the Same Sixteen Kings: It is peculiar that in the two versions of the Praise of [he Sixteen

Kings~

the list of kings is different. The sequences are as

follows: 104 DroQa

Santi

I)

Marutta

Marotta

2)

Suhitra

Suhitra

3)

Paurava (king of) Ailga

Brhadratha Ailga

4)

Sibi

Sibi

5)

Rama Dasarathi

*Bharata

6)

Bhagrratha

Rama Dasarathi

7)

Dilipa

Bhagrratha

8)

Mandhatr

Dilipa

9)

Yayati

Mandhatr

10)

Ambarisa

Yayati

1I)

SaSabindu

Ambarisa

12)

Gaya

SaSabindu

13)

Ran tide va

Gay a

14)

*Bharata

Rantideva

15)

Prthu

**Sagara

16)

**Rama Jamadagnya

Prthu

l04This is almost the same table as in the notes to the critical edition, M.Bh. BORI vol. 8, 650. The third king, Brhadratha king of Ailga, is mentioned by patronym only, "Paurava. in the Siinti version. Since the passage is very similar, and both are called Aitga," I think one may say that these are "the same king" to the extent that one may speak of identity between such textual entities. rt

II

117

Note that: 1)The place in the sequence of king Bharata differs. 2) From Rama up to Rantidev~ the sequence is the same but the whole sequence is

one place down in the Santi version list. 3) One member of each list is strikingly different. In the

Santi version .. the 15th king

is Sagara (who follows Rantideva. and precedes P[thu): Sagara is not mentioned at all in the DroQa

version~

where the 15th king is Prthu.. following Bharata (who appears here after

Rantideva). The last king in the Dro!J.Q list is Rama Jfunadagnya.

1.4.4.2. How the Editors of the Critical Edition Dealt with the Difference: This divergence between the two Sor.!asarajak~vas has already been noted by V. S. Sukthankar (Sukthankar 1936) and by S. K. Belvalkar (editor of the Santi Parvan, edition published 1939).105 In the 1936 article~ Sukthankar put forth his ambitious "Bhargava Hypothesis," namely, that the later phase in the formation of the Mahabharata

text~

its final redaction ..

was accomplished by the Bhrgu clan. It is in the context of this argument that he notes the existence of two versions of the Sor.!asarajak(va. He compares the Dro1].a and the Santi versions and questions the propriety of including Rama Jamadagnya's exploits in the Sot;lasarajak~va .. on the double grounds that Jamadagnya was neither a k~atriya nor dead.

He writes: "In fact .. it would never strike anybody besides an unscrupulous Brahman

redactor - with strong Bhargava leanings - to perpetrate such a tendentious perversion and father it upon Vyasa." 106 Following the same line of reasoning~ Belvalkar takes the presence of Para.surama in the DrolJa list as indication that this version is the work of "one interested in glorifying the Bhrgus." 107

l05M.Bh. BORI vol. 8, 649-50. I06S u kthankar 1936, 39-42.

107Belvalkar 1950, 649-50.

118

Sukthankar.. however.. is walking a very thin line. His hypothesis is that the

Mahabharata text as approximated in the critical edition came into being by the patronage and profound influence of the world view of the Bhrgu clan. Thus, the mere presence of IIBhargava material" could not be a ground for assuming that a unit was extraneous. But Sukthankar had qualified his hypothesis by admitting that the compilation was not a cleancut phase, that there is much post-compilation Bhargava material in the present day manuscript tradition. I08 And indeed, why must the last king of the list be a dead Iqatriya like the others? Closure can be achieved by deviation from an established pattern. To get away from such obviously subjective criteri~ one must separate internal considerations based on comparison of manuscripts from the Bhrgu hypothesis. In 1936 or even in 1939 the manuscript evidence of the Dro1}.a Parvan (published 1958) was not yet available. Agreeing with Sukthankar about the incongruity" of the Dro1}.a inclusion of Para§urama, tI

Belvalkar adds another subjective negative judgment of the Dro1)a Parvan version. He finds what he calls the "supplement, the part in which the dead son of Srfijaya has been tI

miraculously revived, to be inferior. In Belvalkar's view, the revival story is "a cruel tantalizer to

Yudhi~thira,

mourning helplessly the premature death of Abhimanyu." But the

fact is that the revival motif is not exclusive to the Drol}a version. The critical text of the

Santi Parvan also tells, twice, of Suvart:l~thivin's revival, and also adds that he lived for a thousand years and fathered many sons. 109 For some reason, Bel valkar has missed that.

l08S ukthankar 1936, 75 :"But this does not at all imply that the text remained

untouched after this first di::skeusis.... Additions and alterations ....must have been made in it continuously ... These further additions were in the main probably made in the first instance by the Bhargavas themselves .... " 109M.Bh.BORI Xll.29.140-141; and Xll.31.41.

119

My point is not to pick on a mistake but to examine editorial procedures which base themselves on "external evidence" and claim objectivity. We see that in this case at least, subjective judgments based on "internal evidence" play an important role in editorial considerations. I10 The inclusion of the live king ParaSudima was felt to be out of place in a list of dead kings. The miraculous revival of SuvarIJ~tivin was felt to be out of line with the spirit of the unit because it was interpreted as teaching acceptance of death. But what if the units in question construe the relationship of the Praise of the Sixteen Kings and the revival motif in different ways? This, indeed, will be my argument in the next section. Whafs more, the Dro1)a passage has been found to display Bhargava influence, because of the inclusion of a Bhargava hero. If the revival motif is felt to be inappropriate, then the Bhargava connection can be invoked as evidence for later interpolation. But revival plays a central role in the Mahiibharata - P~it was slain by Asvatthaman when he was a fetus in his mother's womb, but ~IJa promised to revive him, and when later he was still-born, Kr~Qa kept his promise. I I I Goldman has moreover pointed out in his study of the

Bhargava cycle that the theme of death and resurrection is central to that cycle. In fact, the Bhargavas seem to have been obsessed with death and resurrection. 112 You cannot have it both ways: if the Bhargavas played a major role in shaping the Mahabhiirata and if they

IIO"Intemal evidence" is the stylistic quality or merit of a reading in relationship to its manuscript variants. It is contrasted with "external evidence" pertaining to text transmission on the basis of comparison of manuscripts or stemmatics. Judgments made on the basis of "external evidence" are deemed more objective than those made on the basis of "internal evidence." See Patterson 1985. IllM.Bh.XIV.61 ;69.

112Goldman 1977, 86-90. Goldman published his book some years after Belvalkar made his argument. Sukthankar's article (1936) to which Belvalkar is referring doesn't mention the "dark side" of this brahman clan to which he would attribute the last and very important stage in the fonnation of the Mahabharata - in an important sense~ its "authorship."

120

were connected specifically with revival stories. one cannot argue that a story is extraneous because it is about a miraculous revival! Clearly this kind of reasoning can grow pretty messy. The only hope of resolution would be external. manuscript evidence. And in fact. in 1958 the manuscript evidence for the DrofJa Part'an did provide some support for the exclusion of this Parvan's version of the Sot;1asarajak~\'a. since the complex passage containing the Sot;1asariijaklya and the Mrfyu episodes is indeed absent from the DrofJa Pan'an from one of the two extant

Sarada (KaSmiri) manuscripts (and also from the five KaSmiri Devanagari manuscripts which are basically Oevanagari transcripts of that same Sarada manuscript). At this point. however. we are thrown back again on the editorial principle of universal attestation. The unit in question is present in ail but one (Sarada) manuscript of the DrofJa Pan/an, and from five Oevanagari duplications of that same manuscript. Is this enough to relegate it to the appendix? Even if we do accept that the Sarada manuscripts usually represent the earliest stage we can reach. the fact chat the unit in question has somehow managed to enter all other manuscripts. including the other Sac-ada manuscript. surely must count for something. 113 In the end. the messiness arises from the internal contradictions of stemmatics which become apparant when applied to a text that does not fit the basic model of text for which the method was originally developed. One of its main objectives is to produce a printable text. The editor is presented with an either-or choice. and this drives them to try and establish the primacy of one version over the other. even if in principle they may not hold the strong view that in each case there must be a single more authentic version. The reconstructed text is theoretically recognized by the editors as an approximation, as a working hypothesis .. but nevertheless, the physical limitations of the medium - the mono-

113S ee

extended argument above section 1.2.2.1.

121

linear organization of a continuous written text - will prevail, to the extent that the reconstructed text will become the standard one. But now that we have understood the arbitrariness of the linear constrictions of the printed text. we are free to explore further the possibilities that the alternative versions offer us. This is exactly what I propose to do in the coming section.

I.4.4.3. The Two $orjasariijakcyas Reconsidered: Indeed .. the placing of Prthu at the end of one list of kings and of ParaSurama at the end of the other list. as well as other apparently minor differences. do promote very different possible readings. In the Santi version, the king placed last in the sequence, Prthu. is like the other kings in that he is virtUous, perfonns sacrifices and is generous towards brahmans. If anything, he is more perfect than the others. His rule is the epitome of a lost harmony. Not only does he rule without conflict and without the application of force; even one of the basics of civilization. like tilling the earth - which in India has often been considered a fonn of violence -- is not necessary under his rule. 114 In contrast. the Dro1J.a version places

ParaSuram~

a still living brahman warrior who

is famous for having killed all k$atriyas. at the end of its list. This introduces a dissonance into the ideal relationship between king and brahman. A claim is made that brahmans are ultimately more powerful than k$arriyas and potentially destructive to them. though the violence of this claim is mitigated by a kind of a covenant established in the end between brahmans and k$acriyas when ParaSurama retires to mount Mahendra, the highest mountain on earth, and he relinquishes the earth and the ocean. It is a commitment on his part to refrain from carrying out that destructive potential in the future, a kind of covenant if you wish. 115 It also is an inversion of the theme of the k$acriya who. after conquering the

114Compare the Hebrew Bible's concern that the earth should be allowed to rest every seven years. 115There is some similarity with the biblical flood story here.

122

whole earth and offering it as a gift to brahmans. reluctantly re-accept it from £he brahmans who do not wish to keep it. This motif is present in both the Sabhti Parvan account of the Rajasuya and in the Asvamedhika Parvan account of the Asvamedha. 116 Far from being alien to the spirit of the Mahabharata. the invocation of the disturbing figure of ParaSurama actively engages concerns that are quite central to it. The theme of the destruction of the 4atriya race. and the furthermore. the notion that at certain crucial junctures of time dharma cannot be reestablished in the world without a moment of all embracing violence. are both at the heart of the t\tlahtibharata. This is why it is striking that the story of Prthu in the Santi version presents such a strong harmonistic view of the relationship between king and brahman. This is even more striking because the legend of the same king is not free. in other contexts. of violent associations. II7 In the Puriil].as Prthu is the son of the evil king Vena~ whom the sages are said

[0

have churned in order to produce from his body two very different offspring~

the evil black Ni$iida and the good shining Iqatriya Prthu. King Prmu is generally known as the one who milked the earth. The earth-milking motif is found in connection with him as early as the Atharvaveda (AV.S.I 0.22-29). In that early version. different beings milk different things, good and bad. out of the earth. Prthu milks cultivation and grain. Thus Prthu is a typical culture hero. connected with the mythic beginnings of agriculture. and the notion thm cultivation involves violence is very deeply ingrained in the stories about him.

116M.Bh. BORI II.37-42; M.Bh. BORI XIV.70-9 I. 117This is evident from Doniger's extensive survey of the variants of the myth (Doniger 1976; 321-348)~ as well as from Shulman's discussion of the BhiigavaciipurtilJ.a. 4.13-15 version (Shulman 1985; 75-88). Doniger's analysis is structuralist. as well as chronological. Her concern is primarily with the Vena-Prthu relationship as father and son. The BhGgavacGpurG1J.a. 4. 13-15 version is discussed by Shulman as specifically concerned with representations of kingship.

123

In fact, in many later versions Prthuforces the earth to yield her milk. In view of this larger context for the Prthu story it is striking that none of these discordant notes (except the name of his father) is found in the Santi Parvan version. On the contrary. it is emphasized that Prthu ruled without any use of force. The milking of the earth motif is absent. Only:

The earth, untilled, caused fruit to ripen; in each and every cup-shaped leaf there

was honey; all cows yielded milk by the bucket when the son of Vena ruled. Men were free from disease; all the objects of their desire were attained; they had no fear whatsoever, they dwelt as they wished in fields and in houses. The waters of the ocean became still when he was about to travel, the rivers, too, stayed low (or: solidified); there was no hindrance to his banner. liS

(M.Bh. BOR! XII.29 .132-4) This version of the Prthu myth is a specific kind of utopia, a primitivist one. The violent component of civilization is completely done away with, probably because of a critical stand toward that violence. If - and this seems likely - the author of this passage

was familiar with some of the versions which contain the more violent associations, our Dro7).a Parvan version may very well be a revisionist version of the Prthu myth. It may be interesting to go back now and look at king Sagara's rule as described in the

Santi version. Sagara, let's just remind ourselves, is the penultimate king in the Santi sequence, and the only king who is peculiar to this version. It is said that Sagara subdued the earth and performed thousands of horse-sacrifices, gave generously to brahmans. and:

He excavated the earth which had the ocean in its lap,

Duto/anger, and by his name the ocean became "sagara")19

IlSItaIics mine. 119M.Bh. BOR! XII.29.127. Italics mine.

124

The activity of excavation~ another paradigmatic act of culture~ is associated here with violence, anger. A contrast is established between Sagara and

Prthu.

P[thu does not

wound - excavate or till - the earth, but manages to get it to yield its essential

goodness~

nourishment, milk, without any violence. The same concern for the violence involved in

tilling or breaking the surface of the earth is introduced by the Siinti version even in the praise of the first king~ Marutta:

Best of kings! When that king ruled the vast one, the earth

shone~

making fruit

ripen without being tilled, garlanded with sacrificial brick piles. 120

(M.Bh. BOR! Xll.29.18) The tilling-motif is thus not accidental. The Santi version presents a non-violent utopian ideal of material and social order, of civilization. Even the rule of Rama Dasarathi who is primarily known in Indian tradition as the paradigmatic subduer of the great ra/qasa, is in the Siinti version described as a reign of perfect harmony, with no conflict whatsoever~

a time when both human beings and nature cooperated out of their free good

will (M.Bh. BOR! XTI.29.46-55). That this is a peculiarity of the Santi version is supported by the fact that in the Dro1')a version of Rama Dasarathi's rule the raJc.rasasubduing-activities of this king are indeed narrated, though such activities are not attributed to any other king in the whole Sixteen-Kings sequence. This mak.es the absence of any conflict in the Santi narration of Rama Dasarathi's rustory all the more striking. Certainly, despite an apparent "rough-edgedness" or looseness of structure, the Santi

Parvan version has its own fonnal-thematic integrity. I would venture to suggest then that the Santi version of the Praise of the Sixteen-Kings unit has a utopian, primitivistic twist, and that there is no compelling reason to assume that it is earlier. If we were to follow the line of reasoning of Belvalkar and De, who consider the santi version to be the more

120Italics mine. There is no parallel in the Dro1].a version.

125

archaic of the two~ we might want to attribute the absence of the Rarna-RavaI)a conflict motif in this version to the undeveloped state of the Rama tale at the time it entered the

Santi version.

Perhaps we might even be tempted to think that the absence of conflict

reflects the actual state of society in the time of composition of this version, a relic of hoary antiquity ... But this is nonsense. There never was a historical period of non-violent rule. Primitivism is not produced by noble primitives. On the contrary, it is a fonn of utopianism, the byproduct of civilization critically reflecting on itself. At any rate we should consider that the attempt to get at the "archaic" layers of a text by fonna1~ even statistical, means is too simplistic. The Mahahhiirata is much too sophisticated for such methods. We must rather be prepared to take into account such phenomena as deliberate archaisms~ 121 I find it ironic that the version marked by the editors as older (a designation

which may misleadingly but temptingly suggest "properly belonging to the original epic," subtly introducing myths of origin) is in fact concerned with the denunciation of the violence which is an inseparable part of civilization, and itself expresses a longing for a mythic state of perfect political hannony! I should make it clear that I am not claiming that the Dro1')a version is without its own primitivistic strand. In Prtbu's time. according to this version:

The earth untilled, caused fruit to ripen; the son of Vena had a wish-yielding cow, all cows yielded milk by the pot; in each and every cup-shaped leaf there was honey.122

CM.Bh. BORI VIT. Appendix t

no.8~

lines 769-70)

The motif, however, does not appear with regard to any other king in the Dro1)a version. Notice also that this verse is nearly identical in three out of four padas to the

121See e.g. Van Buitenen, 1966. 122Italics mine.

126

parallel verse in the Siinti version! [23 The fonnulation could have entered from the Santi version - after all. we are dealing with a textual tradition which recycles materials all the time. The point is that the mention of the motif is less significant iII the DrofJa version because it doesn't resonate with much else in it. and because the placing is less strategic. 124 The ParaSurama passage drastically shifts the emphasis of the whole DrolJa

unit~

without

having to determine every word in it. Likewise. the passage dealing with the rule of Rama Dasarathi in the DrolJ.a version includes some utopian elements. like the absence of diseases. mosquitoes. snakes. death in water and fire. human righteousness. a long life span. Nevertheless. the specific primitivistic sensitivity to the wholeness of the

earth~

and

an aversion to the violence involved in the very basics of civilized life like cultivation~ is totally absent from the DrofJ.a version. Rama's rule is not a harmonic and non-violent state of nature since the ideal conditions prevailing in Rama's time are attributed to Rama's y

conquest of the evi I RavaQa through violent conflict. 125 In the DrofJ,a version. the subjugation of the Iqatriyas by the brahman Rama Jamadagnya resonates with the little episode describing the miraculous deeds of the child Bharata before he became king. He was so powerful as a child that in mere play he subdued all wild animals. bound them. and then let them go. He engaged in such pranks

123Above p. [23. 124The Prthu passage also has a "milking episode." Here~ not the earth but the wish-fulfilling-cow is being milked. and Prthu does not himself participate. He makes the arrangements and presides over the affair. He uses no force: the earth requests to become his daughter. and willingly submits. MBh. BORI Vol. 9. Appendix I lines 784817. 125 Ibid. line 454: "He conquered hunger and thirst and all illnesses that embodied beings have." Or Ibid line 468-9: "When the food oblations were destroyed by the rak~asas in Janasthana, the lord killed the riik$asas and gave the food to the anscestors and to the gods.

127

until his mother told him to stop. 126 Bharata was of course a proper ~atriya~ unlike Rama Jamadagnya. Yet the same awareness of a violent element which underlies the apparent harmony of the rule of dharma. a violence which. most importantly, needs to be controlled and properly directed. is present here too. To sum up this part of the argument: despite formal similarities and even word for word

identities~

significant differences between the two versions of the Sixteen-Kings

episode open these textual units up to different readings. Some of these effects are achieved by way of the organization and relative placement of the textual units. a fact which forces us to take more seriously the "writtenness" of the text. the fact that it is inscribed in a linear medium. A strong structuralist reading, emphasizing the paradigmatic or synchronic over the syntagmatic or diachronic (in Levi-Straussian terms: e.g. Levi-Strauss 1963), might miss or underestimate the richness of this dimension. I.4.4.4. The Word-far-Word Level: We have found that each of the two

$otjasariijaklyas possesses stylistic and ideological qualities of its own. Interestingly, this is the case despite a very close similarity, even an identity, on the word-for-word level between some parts of the two units. For some passages, the word-far-word difference is more notable. The whole range of variation described in section I.2. can be found here. Here and there, a sloka is literally identical. Sometimes, more than one. Even then, the order of occurrence of these slokas is not necessarily maintained within the larger tex.tual unit. More often than complete identity, however, there will be near-identity between short textual

units~

but with the son of formulaic variations described by Parry and

Lord -- one pada may differ here or there, a word may vary. Sometimes there is a

126 In the DrolJ,a version. Bharata is one before last~ preceding ..Prthu. and therefore the passage is more prominent. Ibid .• lines 730-741. In the briefer Santi version of Bharata's praise, which is placed fifth in the sequence, he doesn't seem to stand out in any way other than his many sacrifices. M.Bh. BORI XII.29.40-45.

12&

sequence of identical or nearly identical verses extending over a longer portion of the text but often. interspersed in between these common verses are other verses. which might be thought of as "expansions." These expansions will sometimes vary extensively in content and length. and this may result in a very different emphasis in the passage as a whole. The Slokas which the two texts have in common do not always provide the "skeleton" of

meaning of the resulting passage. Sometimes. the "expansions" are very differently worded but convey roughly the same

meaning~

and even maintain an equal "pace."

Another kind of variation which may occur is that over a sequence of verses the same sequence of ideas or events is adhered to, but in completely different words. Thus. there is no direct relationship between the amount of common words and phrases and the similarity of content. The following parallel passages (eight and nine lines respectively) should serve to introduce us into the kind of complexities I am interested in. Word-far-word identity between the Dro1)Q and the Santi versions is so rare. that when working on the So4asariijak~vQ • r had to go as far as king Bhaglratha (the 6th king in the DroT].a version,

the 7th in the Santi version) to find an example of such identity that extends over more then a single pada. Even in this case, the identity doesn't extend even over eight lines. Only lines 1, 3 and 4 are completely identical. But in between there is line 2, which is similar in content but very differently worded. Line 5 is almost the same. Then there is a single line which appears only in the DrofJ,a version and not in the Santi version, an "insenion.'· if you wish. The last two lines are closely related in content and wording, but display also what appears as formula-based variation: [Note: in the following section r use italics to mark differences between textual units. Since the aim of this discussion is to progressively nuance and complicate our notions of difference and sameness, in each example, the kind of difference marked by italics will vary.]

129

Example a.I I. yaJ) sahasrarp sahasrfuJrup kanya hemavibhii~itaQ 2. lja.no vitate yajiie dak$ina.m atyakiilayar 3. sarva rathagatab kanya rathaf) sarve caturyujal:t

4. ratbe rathe SataIp. nagalJ pad.mitJo hemamaIinal:t 5. sahasram aSvi ekaikarp hastina1J1 PPithato 'nvayufJ 6. gava.",. sahasram aive 'ive sahasralfl gavyaja.vikam 7. upah yare nivasato yasyiilke ni~asada ha 8. ganga bhigfrathl tasmad urvaSl hy abhavat purii (M.Bh. BORI XII.29.58-61)

Example a.2 1. Yab sahasrarp sahasrfuJirp kanyi hemavibhii~italJ 2. riijflai ca riijaputrami ca briihma1J.ebhyo hy amanyata

3. sarvi ratbagatil). kanyi rathaIJ sarve caturyujab 4. rathe rathe sataI!l naga:Q. padmiI)o hemamaIina1:t 5. sahasram aSvas caikaikarp. gajana1!l p~thto 'nvaYUQ 6. aive aive sata'll gavo gavalfl pascaLi ajavika1Jl

7. tenakriintii janaughena dalqi1J.a bhiiyaslr dadat 8. upahvare 'tivyathita tasyaruce ni$asada ha 9. catha bhagrrathl ganga UTVaSl ciibhavat rada (M.Bh. BOR! vn. Appendix t no.8, lines 485-493)

I had to go as far as SaSabindu (II th in the Dro1)a Parvan, 12th in the Santi Parvan) to find the next passage that could fairly be described as 'identical':

Example b.I I. kanyrup kanyam satarp naga naga1fl niigam satarp rathiQ

2. ratharrz ratha1!l satarp casva deiajii hemamaIit)al) 3. aivam aiva1]t iata1!1 gavo gii1]i giiT]t tadvad ajavikatp 4. etad dhanam aparyantam aSvamedhe mahamakhe 5. saSabindur maharaja brahmanebhya/:z samiidiiar (M.Bh. BOR! xn.29.100cd-I02)

130

Example h.2 1. kany:iql kanyam satarp naga niige nage sataIp rathal)

2. rathe rathe satarp casva halino hemamiIilJaQ

3. aive aive sahasraTJl ga gavii1!l pasciid ajavikarp. 4. etad dhanam aparyantam aSvamedhe mahimakhe 5. saSabindur mahabhago brahmanebhyo hyamanyata (M.Bh. BOR! vn Appendix I, no.8, lines 634-638) Here only one line (4) is literally identical, but all five lines are the "same" text in the sense that the variations are simply metrical equivalents. Already we can begin to complicate our analysis. Isnlt it peculiar that the first pair of parallel passages and the second pair of such passages are so similar? Compare lines 4 and 6 in the frrst Dro1J.a passage with lines 2-3 in the second Dro1)a passage:

Example c.l.l rathe rathe satarp niigal) padmiIJ.O hemam3.lina1;l aSve aSve satam gavo gavID'p paScad ajavikarp

(M.Bh. BORI VII Appendix I,

no.8~

lines 488,490)

Example c.I.2 rathe rathe satarp caivQ baliDo hemamaIilJa.I) aSve aSve sahasrarrz ga gavfup. paScad ajavikarp

(M.Bh. BORI VII Appendix I, no.8, lines 635-6)

The parallel lines in the Santi passage are not quite as similar:

Example c.2.1 rathe rathe satarp niigii/J. padmiIJ.o hemamaIinal). gaviiT!l sahasram aive 'ive sahasraTJ1. gavyajavikam (M.Bh. BORI Xll.29.59cd-60ab)

13l

Example c.2.2 rathaTfl ratha1]I satarp caiva desaja hemamaIiI}a1) aivam aivaTfl iataTJ1 giivo ga1!Z giiTJ1. tadvad ajavika1]7.

(M.Bh. BOR! XII.29.10l) There are two important lessons to be derived from these little parallels. First, the practice of recycling of textual units is not necessarily limited to cross-borrowing between parallel passages of the two different

versions~

but occurs even between different parts of

the same version. Second, we cannot isolate the word-for-word level from the thematic leveL The first point calls for some explanations and qualifications. The above example is not the only case of identity between different parts of the Praise of the Sixteen-Kings. The most important example, is, of course, the refrain. In the Santi version, the refrain has some variations. In the Dro1].Q version, the refrain is only slightly different from that of the

Santi version, and it is uniform throughout that version, except

y

and appropriately so, in the

Rama ramadagnya part. The same thing is true for the opening half verse of each king's unit. The DroT)ll version is again more regular, and again the regularity is interrupted - and with good reason, since ParaSurama hasn't died - in the Rama Jamadagnya part. Thus, we can't compare only single verses or isolated units to their parallels. Even a word for word comparison compels us to look at the overall quality or style of each version. Repetitions and diversions from patterns can work in all kinds of interesting ways. Let us note that the DroT)a passage has dramatic closure, with the last verse generalizing the statements of the repeated refrain. The Santi version is open-ended. And now to the second point which I would like to derive from the comparison of the Sa.sabindu and the Bhagrratha passages (examples a-c), namely, that we cannot isolate the word-for-word analysis from the thematic level. Variation often is both verbal and thematic, as in this case, where we obviously are dealing with the same theme, the idea of extreme royal affluence and magnanimity conveyed by the image of what may be called an

132

"ever expanding procession of gifts." Numerous girls, each one followed by numerous chariots,. each chariot followed by even more horses (or elephancs. or whatever), each in tum followed by so many elephants, each followed by even more cows and so forth ... and all of that abundance being offered to brahmans ~ The whole textual unit referring to king SaSabindu in the Santi Parvan $o¢asarajak~va is a very neat little description of such a procession: 127

Example d.l 98. We hear that SaSabindu son of Citraratha died. Srfijaya! That high-souled one had one hundred thousand wives; 99. And the sons of SaSabindu were one thousand times a thousand" all bearing golden annor and all excellent bowmen. lOO. One hundred maidens followed behind each and every prince, and behind each and every maiden one hundred elephants, and behind each and every elephant one hundred chariots: 101. And behind each and every chariot one hundred native horses. with golden garlands. and behind each and every horse one hundred cows, and behind each and every cow similarly one hundred she-goats. l02. This immeasurable wealth SaSabindu assigned for brahmans in the great rite of the horse sacrifice. Great King! t03. If he died. Srfijaya. who was fourfold your better. and surely more meritorious than your son, do not grieve for your son! (M.Bh. BORI XIL29.98-103)

The DrolJ.a parallel contains the same basic theme but not exclusively_ Here, I mark in italics those verses which stand out as expansions or diversions from the basic

t27Note: Here as elsewhere, my translations attempt to give the reader a sense of how verbally close the compared passages are. Even differences in word order are meant to reflect such differences in the originals. However, given the vast difference between the Sanskrit and the English language and the role of formulas and word order in each respectively, it is at the most only partly possible to convey this phenomenon in a translation.

l33 "procession theme, ignoring word-order or fonnulaic type variation. Indeed.. motifs are tI

present here that are totally absent from the Siinti version (for instance, that the princes themsel yes had offered sacrifices; the golden sacrificial pole, the heaps of food, the Icing's death):

Example d.2 623. We hear, Srfijay~ that king SaSabindu died, who, possessed of royal splendor and of real courage, offered many kinds of sacrifices. 625. That great-souled one had one hundred thousand wives, and begot on each and every wife one thousand sons.

627. All these princes conquered their enemies and offered millions of sacrifices; as kings. they had offered the foremost sacrifices, and had mastered the Veda. 629 - 31. They were all possessed of golden annor and supreme archers; all

these royal sons of Saiabindu had offered the horse-sacrifice. Their father. that Indra among kings. gave them to the brahmans in a horse sacrifice; 632 - 36. Behind each and every prince followed a hundred maidens, each riding a chariot, each well ornamented in pure gold; behind each and every maiden, one hundred elephants, and for each and every elephant, a hundred chariots; for each and every chariot, one hundred strong horses bearing golden garlands; for each and every horse, a thousand cows, and behind each and every cow a hundred shegoats.

637. That unbounded wealth the blessed SaSabindu ordained for brahmans in the great rite, the horse sacrifice.

639. As many wooden poles as there are in a horse sacrifice. so many and then again just as many golden ones (were in Sasabindu's sacrifice.) 641. Thirteen heaps offood. rice and drinks. mountains rising to the height of a krosa were left over when the king's horse sacrifice was over.

643. Saiabindu enjoyed / ruled this earth. full of satisfied and wellfed people. its troubles set at peace. free from ill. for a long time, and then went to heaven.

L34

645 - 7. If he died.

Srfijay~

who was fourfold your better, and more meritorious

than your son~ do not grieve over your son; he hasn't sacrificed nor given to brahmans. Sveta! he (Narada) said. It

(M .Rh. BORI

vn Appendix L no.8. lines 623-47)

In this case~ since the Santi SaSabindu passage is such a neat single-theme unit~ it is very tempting to think of the parallel Drof}.a passage as secondary. based on the Santi passage and slightly expanded to include some other favorite kingly-praise themes. This seems at first a rather simple logical step to make. But how then shall we construe the relationship between the BhagIratha passages and the SaSabindu passages of the two versions? The issue here is so much more complicated~ The use of the same

image~

in

this case that of the "ever expanding procession of gifts~" to praise two different kings, in this case SaSabindu and Bhagirath~ is not at all surprising in the context of a text like the $or!aiariijakFya, which is. as I said, to a great extent structured as variations on the more

general theme, the praise of royal patronage of Vedic sacrifices and sacrificial gifts to brahmans. Even though each king has an individual little story attached to him.. in this context~

every king is primarily an example of generous sacrificial giving. The close verbal

similarity of some verses in the two Drof}.a passages referring to two different kings may therefore be explained as internal-borrowing within the Drol)a version (once you start praising the magnanimity of kings. why not borrow a nice idea from the praise of one king to amplify the praise of the other?) We could then suppose that this duplication was further duplicated when the whole Santi passage was transferred to the Drof}.a Parvan. But the appearance of the "procession" theme in two portions of the Santi unit can just as well be regarded. in terms of the Parry and Lord theory, as the emergence of a common "theme" in a plausible context in an oral perfonnance. If composition was oral, such a theme may be assumed to be rather "free-floating." It is simply part of the performer's repertoire. On the micro-level. a case can be made for the oral proliferation of formulas. On the other hand, I can hardly see how an "oral" explanation could work for the macro-Ievet e.g.

135

for such phenomena as the paniaI repetition of such complex and closely knit textual structures as the Sot;laSariijaklya units as a whole. Certainly. I cannot imagine that such a well balanced and fine textured structure as the DrofJa version could be composed on the spur of the moment from free-floating materials. Once we reject. following 1. D. Smith. 128 the over-simplistic principle that the mere abundance of formulas is sufficient evidence of oral composition. we have to consider more seriously the possibility of crossinfluences occurring between written versions. Let us examine the two parallel Bhagiratha passages on the thematic level:

Example e.l 56-7. We hear that king Bhaglratha also died. S[iijaya! lndra. Best of the Gods,

the Lord Chastizer of paka. drank soma while a sacrifice of that king was being performed. and becoming furious with intoxication. he defeated by the might of his arms many thousands of anti-gods. 58. When sacrificing in a vast sacrifice. he approved as sacrificial gift to the brahmans a thousand times a thousand gold-ornamented maidens; 59. All of them were riding chariots, and all the chariots were yoked with four horses. For each and every chariot there were one hundred elephants bearing lotuses and wreaths of gold. 60. Behind each and every elephant followed one thousand horses: each and every horse (was followed by) one thousand cows; for each cow. there were one thousand she-goats. 6l. Ganga. Bhaglralha's daughter. sat on his lap in olden times while he was

dwelling in her proximity, and therefore she came to be called "Urvai[" 62. The Ganga, which flows by way of the three worlds. came as a daughter

to Bhaglratha the Ik$Viiku. the patron of sacrifices. of opulent sacrificial gifts. 63. If he died., Srfijaya, who was fourfold your better, and surely more meritorious than your son., do not grieve for your son~ (M.Bh XII.29.56-63)

128Above pp.26-27.

136

In the following Dro1J,a version, I mark with italics the pan of the text which introduces a motif other than the basic "procession" theme. Clearly there are two such motifs here: Indra drank Bhagrratha's soma and the Ganga became his daughter. Again, 7

the italics here mark thematic variation:

Example e.2 483. We hear that king Bhagrratha has died, Srfijaya! On account of him the Ganga tIthe daughter of Bhaglratha" was heaped with piles of gold.

485. He ordained for brahmans a thousand times a thousand gold- ornamented maidens and kings and princes. 487. AIl of the maidens were riding chariots, and all the chariots were yoked with four horses. For each and every chariot there were one hundred elephants bearing lotuses and wreaths of gold.

489. Behind each and every elephant followed one thousand horses; each and every horse (was followed by) one hundred cows; behind the cows, there were she-goats.

491-2. Because of this. as he was giving sacrificial gifts exceedingly, the Ganga, "Bhaglratha's daughter" who was ovenvhelmed with a flood of peopleJ.. much afflicted, sat privately (or: nearby?) on his lap; therefore she came to be "Urvai[" in olden times; She became the daughter of the king, and then she became (like) a son to him. 129 495. The pleased Gandharvas. splendid like the sun, sang songs about this while ancestors, gods and men of sweet speech listened. 497. Goddess Ganga, who flows to the ocean, chose as father and lord Bhagiratha, patron of sacrifices. offspring of IJqvaku. of opulent sacrificial gifts.

129NIIakantha: she became like a son [0 him in that she brought about the salvation of his deceased ancestors.

137

499. His sacrifice was well ornamented by (the presence of) the gods with Indra and with

Varu~a

(at their head); it was well fenced. obstacles to it had

been pacified, it was unhindered. 501. Whichever brahman would desire (something), and wherever the object of his desire might be. Bhagcratha of Subdued passions, pleased. in that very place gave (it to him). 503. For him, there was not one among the brahmans who was not to be given some desirable object. And that king a/so, by the grace of these brahmans, went to the world of Brahmii. 505. By which (way) the trees in this world travel to the head of the sacrifice (= the sun. See Van Buitenen, 1968) which eats up the/our quaners. by that (way) having gone to him as king and Lord. they desire to go.l30

507-9. If he died't Srfijay~ who was fourfold your better, and more meritorious than your son, do not grieve over your son; he hasn't sacrificed nor given to

brahmans, Sveta!" he (Narada) said. (M.Bh. BORI vn Appendix

I~

no.8, lines 483-509)

As usual, the DrolJ.a passage is longer. That doesn't mean't however, that the Dro1].a version contains every detail of the Santi version and more. Thematically, the Santi version refers (in short) to a theme that is altogether absent from the DroT)a version. If our text critical model posits a systematic borrowing and subsequent expansion of a relatively fixed text, it may be worth noting then that the borrower did not hesitate to omit a detail when it suited him. The Ganga theme is present in the Dro1J.O. version too. Here it is more developed. It isn't just longer, however - rather, it here serves as the dominant theme of the unit. In the Santi version, we have:

upahvare nivasato yasyaruce ni~asada ha ganga bhagirathI tasmad urvaSl hy abhavat purn bhjjridak~iQam i~vaIruQl yajamanarp bhagrratham

130]: am

uncertain about the translation of this verse.

138

trilokapatbaga ganga duhitrtvam upeyu~i (M.Bh. BORI Xll.29.61-2) Whereas in the Dro1)a version the passage starts like this:

bhaglratha1[l ca riijilna",. mrta1!l suiruma yena bhiiglrath[ gal)gii cayanai/:z. kancanaii citii Giving more prominence to the Ganga motif. Now comes the "procession of gifts," and it continues:

tenakranta janaughena dalqi1J.ii bhiiyaszrdadat upahvare 'tivyathiti tasyanke ni~asada ha tatha bha:glrathI ganga urv~l dibhavat purii

duhitrtva1!1 gata rajiial; putratva1]t agamad tadii tatra gilthaJrr. jagul) prlta gandharvah siiryavarcasal:z pitrdevamanu~iil')iiJrr.

srovataTfl valguviidi{lii",. 1

bhaglrathrup yajamanam aik~vaIcurp. bhiiridak$igam

ganga samudragi devl vavre pitaram lsvaram

In fac4 in the DrofJ,a version, the "procession" theme is subordinated to the Ganga theme in such a way that both make an integrated story. BhagIratha's connection with the Gariga is introduced right at the beginning (where in the Santi Parvan Iodra's soma drinking is mentioned with no apparent connection to what follows). That opening draws attention to the Ganga theme and makes it into a frame of reference for the "ever expanding procession of gifts" theme. But the "ever expanding procession" is here not only one more way of talking about the Icing's generosity - it also explains why the Ganga was afflicted and why she had to turn to king Bhagiratha. The whole point is that because the king gave so many gifts, throngs of people came to receive them on the banks of the weight was too much for

her~

river~

and their

so she sought his protection and eventually became his

daughter. The Drol)a version also gives a much more thorough etymology. It explains in what sense of the word "daughter" the river is considered a daughter to the king. In fact,

139

this version explains that she is called "a daughter" only because of her female gender, but actually she functioned as a son, since she saved his ancestors, and that is what sons, who offer the srOddha, do. Here the text only needs to allude to the well known story of the descent of the Ganga.. 1.4.4.5. Neither of the Two Versions is Reducible to the Other: The three disparate motifs strung together arbitrarily in the Santi version of the Bhagiratha section of the Praise of the Sixteen-Kings, namely, Indrars drinking of Bhagrratbars soma, the "ever

expanding procession of gifts," and the Ganga becoming Bhagrratba's daughter, are systematically integrated in the Dro1)Q version of the same section. Thus, even when it comes to such a short uni 4 the Dro1)a version is more tightly constructed. That should not surprise us, since we have already observed this tendency to systematization on the larger scale in the Dro1)a version. Now whether the .rprocession" theme was copied or duplicated from the Santi SaSabindu passage (where this theme appears by itself) or from another source, or entered independently into both passages via oral channels, being simply a well known theme of royal praise, is a matter of interest, but unfortunately I am unable to tell for sure. The connection may have been only through earlier, perhaps oral versions. Sukthankar may have been right that the Santi version of the Praise o/the Sixteen Kings as a whole was primary in the sense that it was known to the author(s) of the Dro1)a version who conserved its overall structure and many of its details. Even if this was the case, which we do not know for sure, it is still important that there was also a systematic revision. Not only is the Santi version more open-ended and less finished. It also propagates a harmonistic~

primitivistic and utopian view of dharma. In the Dro1)a version, not only is

the overall structure carefully manipulated to achieve a more dramatic closure and to emphasizes coherence. The Dro1J,a version's view of the socio-cosmic order, dhanna, is different. The DroQa versionrs vision of dhanna is agonistic or conflictual, violence is

140

foundational to it. One may also wonder whether the incorporation of a king living at the time of the narration may attest to a more aggressive orientation toward the present of the author(s) of the unit. If there was a revision .. it is much more likely that the Dro1J.a version draws also on culturally available sources other than the Siinei version. The Dro1J.Q version of the Bhagrratha passage in fact tells us explicitly that it is drawing on gaeha materials. 131 If the Siinei version was the only source from which the Dro1J.a author worked to

produce his secondary ("duplicated") version .. why would he insist on referring us to the

gtiehas? He (or they . again) must have been consciously drawing on sources much wider than just the Sanei version itself. Moreover. it seems that the Dro1J.a authors had their own theory of literary history according to which the Mahabhiirara included re-workings of more ancient textual sources. Thus, even as they were revising the Sanei version .. they had a sense of considerable freedom of interpretation, since in their own mind they were only doing what the Sanei author(s) themselves had done before them . that is, working with pre-existing texts. Whether they believed that their own version was .. better.... and in what sense. is another question. At this point all I can say is that they seem to be corning from a different religious-ideological position. They preach an aggressive theology of brahman power. a politics of eternal conflict with the enemies of what they view as dharma. To observe that the Drof)Q version is of significant interest is not to say that the Stinei version should be relegated to the appendix. Not at all! We are not even compelled to assume that the Sanei version is earlier. Both versions could be drawing on earlier sources. The Sanei version's "less finished" quality does not necessarily point to greater antiquity. It has its own aesthetic reasons, perhaps having to do with its prirnitivistic-harmonistic world view. The contrast between the dispassionate mood of the $oq.asarajakzya unit and the miracle story of the Suv3fi.l~thivin tale which is not incorporated in the Santi version. but

131 M .Bh.

BOR! VII Appendix [. no.8, line 495.

141

rather comes as an after-thought may be disturbing to some readers. but resonates with similar tensions within the Mahiibharata as a whole. After all, the very narration of the Mahabhiirata to Janamejaya would not have been possible without Parl~it's miraculous revival and the renewal of the near extinct Bharata royal line. We need not invest all our energy in choosing the correct or original version. The availability of both in the text is something to explore and to enrich our concept of meaning, rather than an occasion to make choices and discard. Their presence illustrates well the highly dialogical quality of Mahiibhiirata textuality. 1.4.4.6. The Interaction of the Two $ot!asariijak(vas: So far r have argued that the two versions are to be regarded. despite their close relationship, also as independent textual units each with its own qualities. But what was the view of the scribes who transmitted these versions? If these scribes saw the two versions as basically "the same" text, one would expect that they might want to do away with one of the versions, to synthesize them, to reconcile them, or perhaps to fill up the gaps in one by drawing on the other. If the scribes thought of the written version as only a partial or accidental record of an orally perfonned and transmitted text, and if they were familiar with both, either through oral perfonnance or through manuscript study (and we should keep in mind that almost all manuscripts contain both versions) it seems to me that they would be even more likely to collapse the two versions into one. Have they done so? The only case where we find even slight evidence of such a process attested in the manuscripts is in the Rama Oasarathi passage of the Santi version of the Praise of the

Sixteen Kings~ and even in this case, it is striking that it doesn't happen more than a few times. We have already observed that the Rama Oasarathi passage is an interesting case where the Siinti and the Dro1J.a versions completely diverge in their vision of Rama's rule. The Siinti version knows nothing of Rama's battle with Rav3.IJa. nor of the many other

142

particulars of Rama Dasarathi's story as familiar from the Ramayar.za. It is a description of a perfectly harmonious state, and in fact it hardly contains dramatic-narrative elements:

46. We hear that Rima the son of DaSaratha also died, Sriijaya! Who always

took pity on his subjects as if they were his bosomts sons.

47. In his realm there was not a single unprotected widow; when Rima was lord of the kingdom he was like a father to alL 48. The clouds showered rain at the right time and the grains were full of flavor;

when Rama ruled the kingdom there was always plenty of food.

49. Living beings did not drown in water, nor did ftre accidentally bum; when Rama ruled the kingdom there was no fear of wild beasts. 50. The subjects lived a thousand years and had a thousand sons; when Rama

ruled the kingdom~ they were free of disease and all obtained their objectives. [(K5 after 50; Bl,GI) ContentecL all tbeirobjectives attained, fearless, free to go

as they liked, when Rama ruled the kingdom, men had truth as their vow.] 51. There was no quarrel of women with each other; how much more so, of men! when Rama ruled the kingdom, the subjects at all times (followed) their duty. ((Bo.2-5 Dn 1 03-6.3 Tl G273 M2A) Contented, all their objectives attained, fearless, free to go as they liked, when Rama ruled the kingdom, men had truth as their vow.] 52. The trees were always bearing flowers and fruits and free from calamity/disease; when Rima ruled the kingdom, all cows produced bucketfulls of milk. 53. He of great ascetic powers lived in the forest for fourteen years; [CD 1 only!) Rama killed the ra/qasa Paulasty~ the thorn of the world; ] then he offered, without encountering any obstruction (from rival kings), ten horse-sacrifices. giving thrice to brahmans in the course of each sacriftce. 54. A darky red-eyed youth with the prowess of an elephant in rut; [(All N except K3 D4,7) his anns reaching down to his knees, of handsome countenance, with shoulders like a lion and large hands,] for ten thousand years [(KS Vlmarg. B Dn DI-3,5,6,8, T2 after 54c) and ten times a hundred years, having become king of Ayodhya ] Rama held the kingdom.

143

55. If he died, Srfijaya, who was fourfold your better, and surely more meritorious than your son, do not grieve for your son!

(M.Bh. BOR! XII.29.46-55) Toward the end of the passage there is a sudden reference to Rama's founeen years of exile, and it goes on to mention his ten horse sacrifices, but nothing is said about the big battle that happened in between.

He of great ascetic powers lived in the forest for fourteen years; then he offered, without encountering any obstruction (from rival kings), ten horse-sacrifices

7

giving thrice to brahmans in the course of each sacrifice. 132

(M.Bh. BORI XII.29.53) Here is the only place where one manuscript only(!) fills up this gap.

53. He of great ascetic powers lived in the forest for fourteen years; [Rama killed the rQJqasa Paulasty~ the thorn of the world; CD I)] then he offered, without encountering any obstruction (from rival kings), ten horse-sacrifices, giving thrice to brahmans in the course of each sacrifice. The two inserted padas "jaghana r~asarp ramal) paulasryaqI lokakaJJtakaql" are not taken from the DroT).a version. but from the Ramaya1)a (6. I 28.95cd). Another place where most Northern manuscripts fill in a detail is after 54ab, and some other manuscripts insert after 54 cd:

54. A dark, red-eyed youth with the prowess of an elephant in rut; [his arms reaching down to his knees, of handsome countenance, with shoulders like a lion and large hands, (All N except K3 D4,7)] for ten thousand years [and ten times a hundred years, having become king of Ayodhya (KS V I margo B Dn D 13,5,6,8T2 after 54c B I after 53)] Rama held the kingdom.

132sa caturdaSa var~agi

vane pro~ya mahatapal) ciaSasvamecihafi. jaruthyan ajahara nirargalan

144

The two padas 'tajanubabulJ sumukho hariskandho mahabhujal}." (his arms reaching down to his knees etc.) do have in this case a parallel in the Dror.za version (M.Bh. BORI VII Appendix 1, #8, line 473). Were these two patias picked out from the Dro1].a version to be inserted here, or is there a common (oral) source elsewhere? This cannot be determined. The more important thing is that this is only half a sloka., that it is in nice continuity with the Santi Parvan verse into which it had been inserted., and that it does not change in any way the quality of the Santi version as hannonistic, as omitting the specific

Ramayar.za conflict motifs. Thus, the scribes who transmitted this Santi version either had respect for the integrity of the version, so that even when they embellished it, they did so with some sensitivity to the quality of the whole unit, or else they were only familiar with one version, and never had the temptation to conflate them. If the latter was the case, it is still interesting that borrowing from "floating" oral traditions was not so indiscriminate as to gradually obscure the distinctiveness of the versions. The Dro1)a version of the Rima Dasarathi section had a totally different textual history. Unlike its Santi counterpart, which has few significant expansions, this is the most expanded-on portion of the Dro1].a version of the Sixteen-Kings story. I quote it in full just to give the reader a sense of how much more elaborate it is:

437. We hear, Srfijaya., that Rama the son of DaSaratha also died; in whom his subjects ("children") rejoiced as a father (rejoices in) the sons of his bosom.I33

439. In him of immeasurable splendor there were countless virtues; that Imperishable One, by his father's command lived, together with his wife and followed by L~maIJa., fourteen years in the forest.

133Pitii putran ivaurasan. The comparison of the subjects to the father and of Rima to the children, especially since they are in the plural is a little odd. T, G2 have: Pita putram ivaurasam - as father (rejoices in) the son of his bosom. The Santi version reads: yo 'nvakampata vai nityarp prajaIJ putran ivaurasin - Who always took pity on his subjects as if they were his bosom's sons.

145

442. That bull among men killed fourteen thousand ra/qasas in Janasthana (pan of the DaJ).Qaka forest) to protect the ascetics. 444. While he dwelt there, a ra~asa called RavClQa fooled him and his younger brother and carried off his wife, the daughter of the king of Videha.

reS) When he heard from Jata,yu that his wife had been carried off by the r~asa, Rama, tonnented, burning with sorrow, went to the king of the monkeys. After Ramajoined with him and with the powerful forest-dwelling (apes), he made a bridge over the great sea and reached the other side of the ocean. There, after killing the offspring of Pulastya and their bands of friends and their kinsmen.] *446(8). Angered, he slew in battle [Ravill).a, possessed of magical arts, the terrible one, the thorn of the world,] that thorn to gods and brahmans who was not to be killed by any god or demon, as in days of old the Three Eyed God (Siva) slew The Blind Demon (Andhaka). *446(B,D). Angered he slew in battle [the offspring of Pulastya, the transgressor who was invincible to other (men?),] that thorn to gods and brahmans who was not to be killed by any god or demon, as in days of old the Three Eyed God (Siva) slew The Blind Demon (Andhaka). 448. That long armed one slew in battle Pulastya's descendant and his hosts. [(B,D) After showing his kindness to the subjects, honored by the thirty (gods), having obtained the whole world, adored in songs of praise by bands of gods and sages,] [(S) After he slew his enemy in battle and united with his wife, he made Vibhi~at)a,

that knower of dharma, king of Lailldi.

Joined with his wife and with the host of monkeys, the hero went to Ayodhya by means of the radiant (flying chariot, the)

Pu~paka.

There, in Ayodhya, the glorious one was gladdened. Desiring to always obey his mothers, friends, counselors, sacrificial and royal priests, (he was) consecrated (as king) by the ministers. He sent away Hanuman, and AIigada the king of the monkeys. Honoring with utmost affection his brave brothers Bharata, Satrughna and Lak~maIJa, and adored by the daughter of the king of Videha (SIta),

He ruled the earth surrounded by the four seas for ten thousand and ten times a hundred years.

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He who by the grace of the brahmans obtained all his desires, worshipped with hundreds of horse sacrifices, and with rites abundant in sacrificial gifts,]

449. He who had compassion for all beings lawfully obtained the kingdom; protecting his subjects according to dharma he offered a great sacrifice. 451. The Lord offered without obstruction one hundred horse sacrifices that had three da/qi1).as I along withjariithya rite that has three da/qinas, he performed sacrifices~

bringing joy to the lord of the gods (Indra) with libations of clarified

butter.

453. King Rima worshipped with sacrificial rites of different kinds and of many qualities; He conquered hunger and thirst and all illnesses that embodied beings have. * 454 (S) Rama conquered hunger and thirst [when he ruled the whole kingdom; he conquered suffering] and all illnesses that embodied beings have.

455. Constantly virtuous, blazing with his own splendor, RaIna the son of Da.saratha outshone all beings. 457. When Rama ruled his kingdom, sages, gods and men dwelt together everywhere on earth. 459. When Rama ruled his kingdom, the breath of living beings was neither discharged/excited nor the opposite of that; 134 there was ingoing, outgoing and middle breath. [(BnclDn,Dl-6) The energies (of living beings) blazed forth, there were no calamities] 461. All subjects were long lived and young people did not die. *461 (D7,9). [Women were never widows, men were

long-lived~

they all lived

to a thousand years] and young people did not die. 462. The dwellers of heaven, well pleased got according to the sacred scripture y

various oblations of clarified butter, food oblations as well as the offerings of charitable deeds. 464. There were no gad flies and mosquitoes in the land; vicious serpents were destroyed; there was no death in water for living beings; nor did fire bum at the wrong time.

134m other words, it wasn't blocked or suppressed.

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466. At that time no one had a taste for unrighteousness, no one was greedy or a fool; all parts of society (varI)as) then had work that was learned, pleasant and intelligent.

(G,Ml,2) About this matter too, people who know ancient tales sing songs (giithQ)]

468. When the food oblations were destroyed by riilqasas in Janasthan~ the Lord killed the ra/qasas and gave (the food) to the anscestors and to the gods. *468 (M3-5) When the food oblations were destroyed by rii/qasas in

Janasthana, [About this matter too, people who know ancient tales sing songs (gathii)] the Lord killed the ra~asas and gave (the food) to the ancestors and to

the gods. [(T,G3-5) About this matter too, people who know ancient tales sing songs (gotha]

470. Men had thousands of sons and their life span was tens of hundreds of years.. Older people never perfonned death-rites for younger people. [(S) There were no thieves, nor disease, nor any kind of calamity; nor fear of

drought" or famine, or other ailments. All was calm, extremely joyful; That's how the whole world was, when Rama ruled his kingdom.] [(T,G2,3) continues:) Even about this matter, people who know ancient tales sing songs (gathli)] 472. A dark youth with reddish eyes, with the prowess of an intoxicated elephant; his arms reaching down to his knees, having beautiful anTIS, with shoulders like a lion's, very powerful; 474. Dear to the heart of all beings, Rama ruled for tens of thousands of years and for tens of hundreds of years. 476. When Rama ruled his kingdom, "Rama" Rama, Rama" was the talk of his subjects; the world became beautiful (Rama) because of Rfuna. 478. Having led the four kinds of subjects Rama went to heaven after he established his own eight fold royal line. 480-82. If he died, Srfijaya, who was fourfold your better, and more meritorious than your son, do not grieve over your son; he hasn't sacrificed nor given to

brahmans, Sveta!" he (Narada) said.

(M.Bh. BORI vn Appendix I, no.8, lines 437-82)

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It is even possible to begin to trace in this case the regional branching out of the textual traditions. The Southern manuscript tradition expands generously on the Dro1J,a version (in contrast to its treatment of the Santi version, which it nearly leaves untouched). It is mostly interested in filling in the details of the well known Ramaya1).a story, 135 but not exclusively so.136 It seems the special interest of some Telugu~ Granth~ and Malayali manuscripts to mention in addition that there are ancient songs (gathiis) about this matter.

135[(5 after 444) When he heard from Ja!ayu that his wife had been carried off by raqasa~ Ram~

tormented, burning with sorrow went to the king of the monkeys. After Ramajoined with him and with the powerful forest-dwelling (apes), he made a bridge over the great sea and reached the other side of the ocean. There, after killing the offspring of Pulastya and their bands of friends and their kinsmen.] *446(S). Angered, he slew in battle [RavaIJa, possessed of magical arts, the terrible one, the thorn of the world,] that thorn to gods and brahmans who was not to be killed by any god or demon, as in days of old the Three Eyed God (Siva) slew The Blind Demon (Andhaka). the

t

[(S after 450) After he slew his enemy in battle and united with his wife, he made Vibhl~aIJ~ that knower of dharma, king of Larudi.

Joined with his wife and with the host of monkeys, the hero went to Ayodhya by means of the radiant (flying chariot, the) Pu~paka There, in Ayodhya, the glorious one was gladdened; desiring to always obey his mothers, friends, counselors~ sacrificial and royal priests, (he was) consecrated (as king) by the ministers. He sent away Hanuman, and .AiJ.gada the king of the monkeys. Honoring with utmost affection his brave brothers Bharata, Satrughna and ~m3lJa, and adored by the daughter of the king ofVideha (Slta), He ruled the earth surrounded by the four seas for ten thousand and ten times a hundred years. He who by the grace of the brahmans obtained all his desires, worshipped with hundreds of horse sacrifices, and with rites abundant in sacrificial gifts,] 136* 454 (S) Ramaconquered hunger and thirst [when he ruled the whole kingdom;

he conquered suffering] and all illnesses that embodied beings have. [(G,M1,2; M3-5; T, G3-5 add in slightly different places) About this matter too, people who know ancient tales sing songs] [(S after 471) There were no thieves, nor disease, nor any kind of calamity; nor fear of drought~ or famine, or other ailments. All was calm, extremely joyful; That's how the whole world was, when Rama ruled his kingdom.]

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Bengali manuscripts have a completely different set of expansions (there is no overlap). I don't see any particular local thematic interest in this case. I can only observe that none of these expansions overlap with the Santi version, and that in contrast with the Southern tradition's close awareness of the

Ramayar.za poem, the Bengali expansions seem

not to be "Ramayar.za specific" at all. 131 To sum up this section, the main lesson to be derived from this analysis is that once the Santi and the Dro1J.Q versions were inscribed into the manuscript tradition, they were treated by the scribes as separate textual entities.

1. 4.4.7. The Refrains: A comparison of the verses which introduce and conclude each Icing's unit is also instructive. In the Santi version the basic refrain is:

sa cen mamara srfijaya caturbhadrataras tvaya putrat pUI}yataraS caiva rna putram anutapyathatJ (M.Bh. BORI xn.29.21;34;45. etc.) ("If he died, Sriijaya, who was fourfold your better and surely more meritorious

than your son, Do not grieve for your son! ")

[(T,G2,3) continues:) Even about this matter, people who know ancient tales sing songs.] 137*446(B,D). Angered he slew in battle [the offspring of Pulastya., the transgressor who was invincible to other (men?),] that thorn to gods and brahmans who was not to be killed by any god or demon, as in days of old the Three Eyed God (Siva) slew The Blind Demon (Andhaka). [(B,D after 448) After showing his kindness to the subjects~ honored by the thirty (gods), having obtained the whole world, adored in songs of praise by bands of gods and sages,] [(B,Dcl ,Dn,D 1-6 after 459) The energies (of living beings) blazed forth, there were no calamities] *461 (D7,9). [Women were never widows, men were long lived, they all lived to a thousand years] and young people did not die.

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There are some variations in the refrain even within the Santi version. A half sloka is added occasionally:

sa cen mamara srfijaya caturbhadrataras tvaya putriit pUlJyataraS caiva rna putram anutapyathaIJ adalqi1).am ayajvanam ivaitya sa1!Zsamya ma sucab (M.Bh. BOR! Xll.29.17) (If he died..... (as above); Be pacified, Son of Sveta, do not mourn him who never

sacrificed nor gave sacrificial gifts!)138 The refrain in the Dro1J.a version, on the other hand, is uniform throughout~ except in the last Rima .Jamadagnya p~ which has a totally different refrain. The regular Dro1)a refrain is not quite the same as in the Santi version, though:

sa cen mamara srfijaya caturbhadrataras tvaya putrat pUQ.yataras tubhyam rna putram anutapyathal.1 ayajvanam ada/qiT)yam adhi ivaityety udaharat (M.Bh. BORI VIT. Appendix. I. no.8, lines 357-9) ("If he died, Srfijaya, who was fourfold your better and more meritorious than

your son, do not grieve over your son; he hasn't sacrificed nor given to brahmans, Sveta!" he said.) The third pada varies from the Santi refrain by one unit only - a metric equivalent. The third lines however, convey the same idea, but with different words. We have already noted that in the Dro1J.a Parvan the ParaSuramats unit stands out. It shouldn't surprise us that the Dro1)a ParaSurama unit version of the refrain also stands out more than Prtbu's refrain in the Santi version. It ends like this:

evrup guI)aSatair ju~to bhrgUQatp. klrtivardhanalJ jamadagnyo 'pyatiyaSa marisyati mahadyutib

138M.Bh. BOR! Xll.29.39 has a slight variation in these padas.

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tvaya caturbhadratarab putrit punyataras tava ayajvanam a~inyarp. rna putram anutapyathatt ete caturbhadrataras tvaya bhadraSatadhikaJ)

mrta naravaraS~!ha mari~yati ca srfijaya (M.Bh. BaR! VII Appendix I~ passage # 8, lines 867-872)

(Even the most famous son of Jamadagni, that great luminary, increaser of the glory of the Bhrgu clan~ endowed thus with hundreds of virtues, will die, He is fourfold your better, more meritorious then your son who has not sacrificed nor given to brahmans. Do not grieve for your son! These (men), who are fourfold your better, who exceed you by a hundred virtues, the most excellent among the best of men, have died and are going to die, Srfijaya!) Similarly, the opening half verse of each Icing's part is fonnulaic, (with variation to accommodate the different names). In the Siinti version:

avi~itarp.

maruttarp. me rnrtrup srfijaya susruhi (M.Rh. BORI Xll.29. 16ab)

suhotIa'll ced vaitithinarp rnrtaIP srnjaya suSruma (Ibid ...22ab) angarp brhadrathwp caiva mrtrup susruma srfijaya (Ibid,28ab) sa.sabindurp caitrarathaq1 trqtaql 5usruma sriijaya (Ibid_~98ab) rajanarp ca prtburp. vainyarp.

mrtarp susruma srfijaya (Ibid., 129ab)

Compare the Dro1J.O. version: avik~itaIJl

maruttarp. ca mrtarp. srfijaya susruma (M.Bh. BORI vn Appendix 1,

#8, line335) suhotrarp. nama rajanwp mrtarp. srfijaya 5usruma (Ibid., line360) rajinarp. pauravarp vlrarp mrtarp srfijaya 5usruma (Ibid., line 384) saSabindur ca rajanaIP mrtarp sJiijaya susruma (Ibid., line 624) The DrolJ,a version's opening refrain is again more regular than the Santi version. with its repeated second pada: "we hear, Srfijaya, that (so and so) died:' Again, this regularity is interrupted, and appropriately so, in the ParaSurama part :

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ramo mahatapal) sura vlralokanamaslqtaIJ ..... (M.Bh. BORI VII Appendix I. passage #8 line 828) The examination of the refrains supports our observations regarding the stylistic peculiarities of each version. The Santi version is looser, the DroT)a version is more streamlined up to the more dramatic closure.

1.4.5. Conclusion: Complexities that Defy An "Either-Or" Approach. I examined a group of extremely similar textual units which appear in two different Parvans in almost all of the Mahabharata manuscript tradition. My purpose has been to raise~

through the discussion of these examples~ some questions of textual identity with

regard to the Mahabhiirata. I have argued for a model of textuality which is linear but not mono-linear. The editors Sukthankar, De and Belvalkar, considered the Dror.ra version of the Praise of the Sixteen-Kings to be an insertion and a duplication of the Praise of the Sixteen-Kings as found in the Santi Parvan. There is indeed compelling manuscript

evidence that the DroT)a version was at some point inserted into a pre-existing Dro1J,a tex~ but I dispute the editor's judgment that this version is a direct reworking of the Santi version and that it is for this reason an inferior version, that it does not properly belong in the Mahabharata. This judgment follows from pressing too much the logic of stemmatics~

but the text-critical method (in its classical form) is inapplicable to textual

traditions such as the MahObhiirata, the bulk of which is anyhow a reworking of older traditions and an expansion on already given units. An important alternative to the "text critical n approach in contemporary Mahabhiirata

scholarship is the structuralist method, which would de-emphasize the syntagmatic aspects of the text in favor of the paradigmatic aspects. For instance, a structuralist analysis would juxtapose our two versions in order to anive at some fuller total meaning, their deep

153

structure. Despite my dissatisfaction with the conservative use of stemmatics, I disagree with an important aspect of the structuralist approach., too. I think it essential to understand the linear (or rather. multilinear) medium in which a textual tradition such as the

M ahabharata is inscribed. The structuralist method of lifting textual units out of their place in the written text and juxtaposing them freely with parallels is sometimes justified by the argument that the written text is a mere recording of oral perfonnances. 139 It has also been often argued that a critical edition of the Mahabhiirata is useless because the text is oral. I don't accept either of these positions. Whether it started out in oral performances or not., and whether oral performances continued to influence the evolving manuscript tradition or not., once there is a manuscript., a different kind of textual entity has come into being. I think one of our most significant finding is that the Praise of the Sixteen-Kings units have developed independently once they became inscribed in the manuscript tradition. The purpose of the close examination of the versions was to show how a richer reading is made possible by looking at qualities which are defined and indeed made possible only by their place in the linear textual sequence. Those qualities are lost when those textual units are abstracted from their place in the sequence and conflated. I argued that each version has a different texture and ideology. The Dro1)a version is obviously more tightly structured as a unit. On the formal level, it is more regular, it sets a pattern which makes a diversion from that pattern more dramatic. The order of narration is more straightforward. There is an

attempt~

not quite to get rid of the tension between the

assertion of the Praise of the Sixteen-Kings that no one is exempt from death and the frame story of SuvarIJ~thivin and his miraculous revival. but to provide a hannonizing explanation. The Dro{Ul version is not only tightly structured as a unit but is also finely

139For example~ Biardeau 1968, 1970.

L54

woven into the Mahabhiirata texture. Actually, "Bhargava themes" are more emphasized in this version. A violent conflict underlies the apparently hannonic dharrnic order. This idea is perhaps best embodied in the ParaSurama story about the violence inherent in the relationship between brahmans and kings. Is this, however, evidence that the unit does or does not belong in the Mahiibhiirata? The work of Sukthankar and especially Goldman has demonstrated to every student of the Mahabharata that themes common in the Bhargava myths are so intimately interwoven into the texture of the Mahiibharata text that they cannot be excised without disintegrating it completely. We have seen that the Dro1)a version resonates well with such themes, especially brahman power. Even if we will not accept the strong "Bhargava hypothesis" that there actually was at some point a certain brahman family, the Bhargavas. who "took from the Siitas the Bharata and gave back to the world the Mahabhiirata. the same book yet different," 140 we must recognize that the theme of violent conflict and Brahman power found in the Dro1)a version resonate with prominant themes of the

Mahabharata as a whole. The Santi version of the Sixteen-Kings episode, as it is embedded into the SuvarIJ~tivin

story, appears to be more of a "patchwork," in that the early part of the boyts

tale is introduced only toward the end of the narrative and as a result the unit is left with less defined boundaries and with more apparent inner "seams." The Praise of the

Sixteen-Kings' insistence on the inevitability of death, and Suvart)~tivints story of miraculous revival, both of which are in some ideological tension, are left side by side unresolved. This stylistic "roughness" may not be out-of-line with the primitivistic ideas which prevail in its version of the Sixteen-Kings unit.

140Su kthankar

1936, 75.

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My point can be simply stated. The texture of the text .. to which we only have access through its surface. the written medium of the manuscript.. shouldn't be abandoned in favor of underlying deep structures. The multilinearity of the Mahiibhiirata tradition is an inseparable part of the fact that it existed for many centuries in a historically specific kind of manuscript tradition .. very different from other manuscript traditions even within South Asia. Now (in the scholarly world. at least) the critical edition of the Mahiibhiirata rightly claims to be the most adequate reflection of that manuscript tradition. Nevertheless.. the critical edition was forced by its own logic to relegate one of the versions. and so much other manuscript material. to an appendix. That happened because a tension arises when the method of stemrnatics is applied to the textual tradition of the Mahabharata. On the one hand. the method's explicit purpose is to arrive at a singular text hypothesized to underlie the multiplicity of manuscripts, and to produce a single-linear reconstructed text. On the other hand. the method also forces us to confront the complex ways in which the manuscript tradition diverges from that single line. thereby problematizing further our notions of textual unity_ The study of "textual dynamic" which Sukthankar called for will only be possible if we do not allow ourselves to be misled by the unilinear appearence of the reconstructed text. Once we open our minds to the possibility of textual heterogeneity, the question arises as co the identity of the participating discourses. If a simple center cannot be identified. can some set of contested issues be at the heart of our text? As we continue our investigations, some such issues will emerge as candidates. We have already encountered two of these. The two versions of the Sor.ja.Sariijaklya contest the role of violence in the socio-cosmic order. The question of the "dharmic other," the paradigmatic antagonist of dharma, is intimately related with this question.

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Chapter Two

Praise-Blame Dialogues and Verbal Duels in the

KaT1).a

Parvan

11.1. Fighting Words

11.1.1. Heroic Praise and Blame The heroic praise and blame performances with which this chapter deals take place right in the middle of a battle scene. The hero sometimes addresses his constant companion in battle, the charioteer, or cries out loud to anybody present on the battlefield. Many exchanges involve the two prospective combatants. Sometimes a third party is involved urging one or both of the adversaries to fight hard. Verbal encounters between y

non- combatant observers of the battle, such as the gods in heaven~ are also found. When two are involved, the exchange often takes on the tone of a kind of verbal contest or duel. The primary function of these performances seems to be to work up the combatants into a state of fury, so that they will be able to perform super-nonnal, heroic feats. 1 The lament, or the praise of a warrior after his death, and its opposite, the public censure of an enemy warrior who just diecL are related forms, because they share much of the standard themes as well as the formulas of the verbal duels. They do not serve the function of exciting the prospective fighters, however.

1The effect of these verbal feats may be compared to that of the

Indra habitually drinks before entering into combat.

soma which Vedic

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All the cases which we will examine involve praise and self-praise. or boasting on y

the one hand (v. vi+katth; n. vikatthana; n. vikatthii), and blame and insults (v. kuts, n.

kutsanam, kutsli) on the other hand. We will see that while there are some instances in which the polar opposites of praise and blame remain distinct, in many more cases they are mixed or even deliberately confused and conflated. The suggestion that these two activities

are considered to be two sides of the same coin is supported by the fact that the verb vi+katth means both "to boast, to vaunt, to proclaim loudly" and "to deprecate, to speak ill of, to disparage, to humiliate." Similarly, the noun vikatthanam means both "vaunting, boasting" and Ifirony, false praise." 2

II.l.2. Questions of Genre. It seems natural that verbal duels would hold a central role in a text intensely interested in direct and personal combative encounters between great heroes. This is Ward Parks' contention in his Verbal Duels in Heroic Na"ative,3 a generic study of heroic

flyting or "agonistically styled verbal disputations with martial overtones."4

In old Scottish "flyting" denotes the ludic and abusive exchanges of the makars. The teInl has been recently adopted by some Gennanisticists to denote "verbal contests of the Northern Gennanic type." In old Englishflitan means to strive to contend, to dispute, to y

rebel. Parks suggests to extend the use of the term to denote any verbal contesting with an

ad hominum designation as distinct from disputes whose subject matter is non-personal. 5 Parks is most familiar with examples from his own areas of expertise, Homeric and

2Apte 1428. 3Parks 1990. 4Parks 1990~ 6. SParks 1990~ 6-7.

158 Anglo-Saxon narrative poetry, but he argues for the applicability of his analysis to various other heroic texts, among these also the Mahiibharata. He even devoted a sub-chapter to the verbal exchange between Arjuna and KarQa during their first encounter at the tournament of M.Bh. 1.124-127.6 Parks finds no reason to limit the concept of flyting to Indo-European "cultures."7 He adduces some examples of flyting practices among American inner-city black adolescents, Turkish adolescents, and during the Japanese NewYear. 8 His book argues for "the (generic) integrity of heroic flyting itself," deriving it from a heroic ethos which, he argues, despite divergences "is recognizable and consistent across cultures. "9 While he recognizes the existence and the affinity of a whole range of related agonistic activities such as sporting, political debate or erotic-amatory fIyting, 10 much of Parks' effort is taxonomic, an attempt to distinguish between heroic flyting and related fonos. Specifically, within the narrower discursive category of "adversative [sic] dialogic forms" he distinguishes between heroic flyting and non-heroic fonns of fIyting, such as ludic flyting 11 and some fonns of the academic debate. 12 Among these varieties he

6Parks 1990, 129-136. 7A

problematic tenn: Indo-European denotes only a group of languages.

8Parks 1990, 163. 9Parks 1990, 8. 10S uch as the exchanges of Beatrice and Benedick in 11 Playful

Much Ado About Nothing.

ridicule, practiced for instance by the ancient Greeks at banquets.

12He identifies parameters of generic differentiation on the basis of which one can distinguish between such verbal contesting types. He finds diverging tendencies in four areas. The contest orientation of the genre can be more or less evident (compare academic debate to personal heroic flyting). The referential mode can be serious or not (compare heroic flyting to ludic flyting). The locus of resolution can be internal as in academic debate or external as in heroic flyting which usually leads to a real fight. The contestants can

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considers heroic fIyting to be

primary~

because it exhibits the

human~

and particularly male,

tendency for agonistic activity in its "purest" fonn. He argues that this tendency is a biologically ingrained impulse which human males share with other male animals.

In Parks' view, the best examples of verbal duels are found in epic poetry, a genre which is closely related to oral-traditional resources and habits of mind, and in particular to the disposition of oral poets to use fonnulas and stereotypic patterns of various sorts. 13 While I agree with Parks' basic point that verbal contests in general and verbal duels in particular are observable across a wide range of cultures~ I find his use of the combination of the notions of "epic," "heroic culture," and primary, biologicaIly- ingrained human drives intellectually problematic (and, I confess, personally distasteful). I do not think that there is a predetermined line of cultural development from the primitive or elementary to

the modem, i. e. Western. Similarly, the search for rock-bottom human forms or patterns, whether they are conceived in biological or in any other tenns, is probably futile, as Derrida has so forcefully shown. 14 There is no doubt that many students of the Mahabharata would consider the verbal duels which I am about to describe, and generally, the War Books of the Mahiibhlirata, more authentically "epic" and in that sense more proper to the Mahiibhiirata than much of the didactic or philosophical materials found in its other parts. I have discussed above my own reservations regarding the application of the term "epic" to the Mahiibharta. I argued that it has always implied that one looked to the Mahabhiirata for archaic, even primordial

belong to a single social community as in the case of an academic debate~ or to rival communities as in the case of heroic verbal duels. Parks 1990, 161-178~ 13Parks 1990, 9. 14Derrida 1967.

160

patterns of thought~ and that to assume an archaic mind at the hean of the Mahabharata would be buying into one of the Itothering" trope of Orientalist discourse. 15 Parks' use of epic poetry to demonstrate what he believes to be primordial human nature is a perfect example. It is hardly surprising that when he looks for it~ what he finds is male aggressi vness. The reader may be a little surprised, however, that after declaring my intention of proving that there is much novel in the epic~ I have chosen to devote a considerable part of my dissertation to what would seem purely heroic discourse. Would I not be proving exactly what I had set out to disprove? But this is exactly my point. As the following pages will demonstrate, many passages in the Kal7J.l2 Parvan appear as "pure heroic discourse" when examined in isolation, but their context subverts this discourse in complex ways. Chapter Three of this study will extend this argument. I will show how other agonistic discursive forms are manipulated in the Mahobharata and deployed in all kinds of complex ways, and in particular, as part of a debate about violence and its place in the socio-cosmic order. In other words, the Mahabharata is pretty far removed from any "primary" state. 16 A more historical concept of genre is applied by another classical scholar, Gregory Nagy, to somewhat similar fonns of praise and blame. He shows that in archaic Greek poetry there were antithetical social functions of "blame poet" and "praise poet" and corresponding poetic forms, defined through their metric pattems~ their performance context and their subject matter. Greek epic is a form of "praise" in the looser sense~ but epic and upraise poetrylt in a more technical specific sense actually differ. For instance, the

15See

my Introduction above pp. 29-30. Said 1978. Inden 1990.

16Nagy 1979, 211-275.

<

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epic praises long dead and Pan Hellenic Heroes, while praise poetry in the strict sense was composed in honor of living local heroes who won the Olympic games. The problem which I face is the absence of earlier or contemporaneous example of similar materials from south Asia I cannot prove that the composers of our Parvan were familiar with and intertextually interacting with either more "archaic" and elementary or with more highly differentiated and stylized forms of heroic praise and blame. The only exception to this is Vedic literature, of course, which is especially replete with praise, specifically, hymns of praise for the gods. Combative imagery is quite central to its world view, too. The encounter between the gods (devas) and counter-gods (asuras), in particular the god Indra and his opponent Vrtra, is central to Vedic mythology, and it has quite convincingly been argued that an agonistic or contestatory world view underlies this imagery)7 The role of agonistic imagery in the Mahabharata will occupy us later in this study. However, I prefer not to assume that the combative themes or even the heroic praise and blame rhetoric such as found in the Mahabharata is directly derivative from such ritually oriented agonistic discourse such as found in Vedic literature. Such an assumption would implicate me in a whole other set of assumptions regarding the brahrnanic sources of the Mahahharata, its deep involvement in priestly, ritual concerns. As I have explained in the Introduction, this would be buying into the monolithic readings of the Mahiibharata. 18 Even though the only texts extant to us from the very early period are priestly ones, we can safely assume the existence of other textual traditions which have served as sources for the Mahabharata's rhetoric forms. Rather than invoke cross cultural comparisons, or assume that fonns found in the ~gveda

provide the main repertoire for the Mahabharata's

17Kuiper 1975; Heestennan 1985, 1993. 18 Above

1.2.2.4.

authors~

I chose to proceed

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from my own observation that the Ka17}.a Parvan is replete with incidents and episodes of heroes praising and blaming heroes, that these involve a whole stock of typical situations and rhetoric pattems~ and with a sense that this rhetoric is somehow constitutive of the world of the Parvan. I therefore examine the praise and blame materials which I have found in the Ka17J.(l Parvan itself and classify them according to internal criteria which I t

have myself devised. Such a classification is offered in section II. 1.4. It is perhaps not so surprising to find that many of these boasts and abuses are quite simple in form and conten~

even stereotypical. It is remarkable, however, that the Parvan's authors are also

capable of quite complex, even virtuosic manipulation of the same praise-blame forms. Furthermore, the examples of praise -blame exchanges which tend to transcend the boundaries of this simple genre are also the ones more deeply involved in the wider problematic of the Mahabharata, namely, the enigma of dhanna-sulqmata or the (inscrutable) subtlety of dhanna, and in particular its affrrmative and at the same time deeply critical stance towards political life, which it equates with violence. The following two sections, TI.2 and IT.3, are a study of what I consider to be the two

least fonnulaic manipulations of the theme of heroic praise and blame in the Parvan. The first episode, M.Bh. BOR! VIIT.45-49, involves Arjuna and

Yudhi~thira,

and the second,

M.Bh. BOR! VllI.26-30, involves Karga and Salya Both take place just before Arjuna

and KaIlJa fmally face each other. Thus, each of the two main heroes of the Parvan participates in such an exchange with a third party shortly before the great encounter. Both exchanges certainly serve to quicken the fighting spirit of the prospective combatants. but we shall see that beyond this these exchanges playa very important role in articulating the possible meanings of the central event of the Parvan, namely, the fight between Arjuna and KaIl}a and the death in battIe of KarI).a. Far from being formulaic and stereotypical, these praise and blame exchanges are highly reflexive. They are the place for the exploration of

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analogies and connections. They enable the questioning of presuppositions and the exploration of ambiguities. In short~ they function as a fonn of inner textual interpretation.

11.1.3. About the Ka17)a Parvan. The decision to focus on the Karr:ta Parvan was partly determined by the fact that I found it to be particularly rich with the praise-blame rhetoric which interests me. That is not to say that such rhetoric is totally absent from the other War Books, but only that it is not equally developed in all of them. 19 The Bh[~. Dro1J.a, Ka17].a and Salya Parvans, in other words, Parvans VI-IX of the Mahiibharata, are usually designated as the War Books for a number of good reasons. These four consecutive books form a natural group in that they all recount the events of the battle at the heart of the Mahabharata. The battle lasted 18 days. The Bh[~ Parvan covers days 1-10, the days in which Bhl~ma served as general commander of the Kauravas. The Dro'f)a Parvan covers days 11-15, the days in which DrolJa was commander. Similarly, the Ka17J.a Parvan recounts KaI1)a's generalship, days 16-17, and

Satya Parvan, SaIya's generalship, day 18. Other fonnal characteristics also justify the grouping together of these books. In all four, the narrator is the sura

Saiijay~

and the

narrattee is the blind old king Dh~tr~ father of the hundred Kaurava brothers. In all four Parvans, the narration of the battle events is initially prompted when Saiijaya announces to Dhrtar~tra that a great hero had been killed in battle. In each case, the king requests to hear in full the circumstances under which that hero was slain, and this leads to the recounting of the battle events .. This is not to say that the division between the War Books and other Mahiibhiirata books is clear-cut. The War Books have parts that are not battle descriptions. The first of 19m particular, the

special attention.

Salya Parvan has many such exchanges, some of which merit

164

the War Books, the Bh[pna Parvan., is particularly rich in doctrinal materials, most notably the famous dialogue between Arjuna and Kr~IJa, the Bhagavadglta. Parvans other than these four also contain substantial battIe descriptions. The Sauptika Parvan (the Book of Sleep), recounts for instance the events of the night after the last day of the battle.

it describes how the three surviving Kaurava fighters., ASvatthaman, Krpa and Krtavannan .. enter the camp of P~c;lavas during the night and massacre all who lay sleeping inside. Though it deals with a mass killing, the Saupdka Parvan should not be classified as a War Book with the Bhzpna, Dro1).ll. Kan.za and Salya Parvans. Its killing scene is not a battIe proper, but a grotesque distortion of heroic fighting, a gross deviation from the rules of combat. Neither does it have the frame typical of the War Books - most of it is not narrated by Saiijaya. Its main episode., the secret massacre of the sleeping P8I].gava camp., is, as Hiltebeitel has shown., constructed around sacrificial imagery. 20 This is not the case for books VI-IX., where the sacrificial trope plays a lesser part, though it is not altogether absent. For similar reasons., the Vz'rata Parvan and the Aivamedhika Parvan, which contain some battle descriptions., and the Mausala Parvan, which like the Sauptika Parvan is about a monstrous mass massacre, are not "War Books" proper. Rather, they

should all be considered under the rubric of reflections of or variations on heroic and battle themes., and their stance toward war and heroic values tends to be more critical. This point will be explained fully in Chapter Three, which is a study of the Aivamedhika Parvan. The Kal7].a Parvan~ however, is all about heroes and their exploits. It is an actionoriented (as in "action film") Parvan. There is little doctrinal material in it. The action is almost completely restricted in time (two days) and space (the battlefield). Narrative digressions of the kind that is common in the Adz' Parvan or the Vana Parvan are few in the Ka17)a Parvan. Events that took place in previous cosmic ages and beings belonging to

20Hiltebeitel 1976, 312-335.

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other worlds such as the gods (devas) or the serpentine semi-divine beings of the underworld (niigas) are hardly mentioned (there are a few exception, such as the narration of the destruction of the three cities2I or the case of Arjuna's Naga enemy who helped KarI)a. 22 In this respect the Kan;za Parvan differs significantly even from the Bh~sma

Parvan, which has not only a very long and famous doctrinal portion, the Bhagavadglra subparvan, but also a long cosmological section, the Jambukha1].r/.avininnO.1].a subparvan, and a geographical section, the Bhiimi subparvan. It is even further away from the

Asvamedhika Parvan, which, as we shall see in Chapter Three, consists of a small kernel of main narrative action around which a complex structure of what one might very well call textual reflection, interpretation, or even inner textual reception is constructed. It is certainly a world apart in this respect both from the Santi Parvan, which is mostly doctrinal, or from the Vana Parvan, which is a mostly miscellaneous collection of legends. The manuscript tradition of the Ka17J.a Parvan is also strikingly different from that of the Aivamedhika Parvan or the Bhl~a Parvan. While the Aivamedhika and the

Bhl$ma Parvans are fairly uniform throughout all of their manuscripts, the Ka17).a Parvan displays an unusually high degree of manuscript diversity. not only in terms of number and bulk of insertions but also in tenns of substitution or sequence variation.23 This fact points to a very different kind of production context for the KaT7)a Parvan, a much less centralized one, most likely involving a much longer and complicated interaction with oral perfonnance and transmission. 24 In other words, despite the important similarities

2IM.Bh. BORI vm.24 22M.Bh. BORl VITI.66.1-24. 23S ee above section I.3.3 especially p.92, 94, 99. The Vai~1J.avadharma section of the Aivamedhika Parvan is an exception to this.

24See above section 1.3.3.

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between the Bhl~ma. DroT)a. Kan:za. and Salya Parvans we cannot assume that the War Books are a systematically conceived separate textual unit or that they embody a single vision. The Ka17.la Parvan tells the events of the sixteenth and the seventeenth days of the battIe, the days on which Kaqta served as commander general of the Kaurava forces. KarIJ.a was the third person to head the Kaurava army. He was consecrated after the fall in battle of the second commander-general and his own master in the arts of war, DroQa. The narrative climax of the Karr.za Parvan is the defeat of Kart)a and his death at the hands of Arjuna. The greater bulk of the Parvan is dedicated to this event or to events leading up to it. That this is the narrative heart of the Parvan is emphasized by a double frame. The outer frame (VIll. 1-2) introduces the Parvan with Vaisayppayana's

report~

to Janamejay~

of Kart}.a's consecration and subsequent death. How could Dhrt~!ra bear such a loss, asks Janamejaya, and a dialogue between

Dhrtar~tra and

Saiijaya regarding loss and

sorrow, follows. The second frame goes back to the same starting point, to Vaisarppayana's report of how the news of KaIl).a's consecration and subsequent death reached Dhrtar~tra's ears. This time, after Dhrt~tra regains his failing strength, he listens to the enumeration of the dead and the survivors on both sides. Then he praises the heroism of Kart'}.a and asks how it is possible that one such as him could ever have been defeated? What happened to KatlJa's divine bow, to his special chariot~

Dhrtar~tra

wonders. The question: "How is it that a great hero such as KarIJa could have been defeated?" provides the frame and the pretext for the detailed account of the sixteenth and seventeenth days of the battle of which the bulk of the Parvan consists. The Parvan is arguably framed as an expanded elaboration of a typical lament trope, in this case, on the death of KarI).a. 25 The trope of lament is not unique to the Ka17)a Parvan, but the role that 25Compare Samuel 11,1,19-27, David's lament over king Saul and his son Jonathan. The unit is framed by the exclamation "How the mighty have fallen!" (eikh naflu giborim).

167

it plays in the structure of the KaT7J.a Pan'an is more evident simply because it is not

combined with other tropes and frames. 26 To say that the Arjuna- KartJa encounter is the heart of the Kan:za Parvan is not to say that the Parvan deals exclusively with the exploits of these two. The complex battle narrative is made up (somewhat like a television serial drama) of smaller narratives of encounters between individual

warriors~

some of which have a special n account" from the

past to settle between them. 27 The ongoing enmity between Arjuna and KarI)a fits in with

26The Bhagavadglta subparvan of the Bhl$11la Parvan begins with Safijaya's announcement to Dhrta.r8$tra of BhI$ma's death and with the old king's lament and inquiries about how it happened. This is not the opening of the Parvan however. The Dror;a Parvan opens with the announcement of a death, but not that of DroQa, but of Bhi~m~ and in fact the Parvan's fIrSt few adhyiiyas are concerned with KaI1).a's finally joining the battle, rather then with DroQa's generalship. Only in M.Bh. BORI VTI.7 is DroQa's death announced and in M.Bh. BORI VII.8 Dhrtar~tra inquires how it was possible to slay him. The same frame device, namely. Safijaya's announcing of a hero's death and his subsequent recounting of how that hero was slain is used to introduce the Abhimanyuvadha subparvan of the Drof].a Parvan. Salya and his generalship plays a less important role in the Salya Parvan because a great part of the book centers on the final defeat of the Kauravas and on Duryodhana's death. The Parvan opens with the announcement of the death of Salya, Ouryodhana and many other warriors and D~tra's lament is likewise directed more to his beloved son's death and to the loss of the entire battle (M.Bh. BORI IX. 1-2). In the Sauptika Parvan such a frame does not exist at all- probably because it is not a "War Book" in the same way as the other Bh[.pna, DroT)a. Kan:za and Salya Parvans are .. y

27For example: Yudhi~Ptira and Duryodhana. Yudhi~!hira's attempts to slay Duryodhana are twice frustrated (M.Bh. BOR! VllI.28-29). Once Yudhi~thira brings Duryodhana down and is ready to slay him when Duryodhana's allies rush to the rescue. Soon after, Yuclhi~!hira vanquishes Duryodhana again, prepares to kill him but has to refrain when Bhima intervenes and reminds him that he (Bhima) has vowed to kill Duryodhana. In the meanwhile~ Duryodhana escapes. Another example: Bhlma and Dubsasana. (60-61). Dubsasana is of course Bhlma's special enemy because he has humiliated Draupadl in front of all the qatriyas. The account of their fighting culminates in BhIma's fulfilling of his vow to drink DUQsasana's blood, and is intertwined with BhIma's reminiscing about DulJsasana's offense, and in hostile verbal exchanges between the two fighters. Another example, though it is something of an exception to the rule that the narratives are constructed around individuals, is the case of the SarpSaptakas and their ongoing enmity with Arjuna. The Sarp.saptakas are as their name suggests, AIjuna's y

y

[68

this pattern of weaving together the accounts of different warriors' ongoing encounters. Nevertheless, the KarI)a-Arjuna encounter is distinctly the dramatic and thematic focus of the Parvan. Not surprisingly, £he sections of the Parvan dealing wi£h the encounter between this pair are also longest and most dense with expansions and variations. The story of KarI).a is well known but I will nevertheless review its broad outlines briefly (the knowledgeable reader may skip to the next section). From the introduction of Kart).a into the Mahabharata narrative the audience (or reader) knows that Ka.n.ta is, in 7

fact, Arjuna's eldest uterine brother a person whom AIjuna, and in fact, all five PiI)9ava 7

brothers should by law respect and love almost as if he was their own father. KarIJa was the first born ofPnh~ the mother ofYudhi~thira, Arjuna and Bhl~ma. He was born as a result of a boon given to Prtha when she was still an unmarried maiden, a boon which allowed her to summon at will any god she wanted and to have a child by him. KaIlJa's father, the first to be summoned, was the sun god, Surya. The naive girl summoned him in playas soon as she was granted the boon. The young princess, who was not willing to face the social embarrassment of being an unwed mother, abandoned the beautiful infant, who was born with a special armor and divine earrings. The semi-divine baby was saved and adopted by a humble charioteer, Adhiratha, and his wife, Radhi, and consequently he grew up as a humble suta, a member of a low mixed caste which specialized in driving battle chariots and therefore lived with their ~atriya patrons. K.a.rQa received much

"collective sworn enemy." This group of warriors, mostly of Trigarta origin, took a vow to either slay Arjuna or be slain ~emselves, because of certain offenses which they felt Arjuna had done to them. The SarpSaptaks had volunteered on the thirteenth day of the battle to engage Arjuna in battle in order to enable DroQa to surround and kill Yudhi~thira. On this occasion they took their vow (M.Bh. BOR! VII. 16) The Sarp.§aptakas engagement of Arjuna made the slaying of his beloved son, Abhimanyu, possible. The account of Arjunats encounter wi£h £he SarpSaptakas resumes in the Satya Parvan and is brought to some closure in the Aivamedhika Parvan, when the sacrificial horse passes through the land of the Trigartas.

169

affection from his adoptive parents, but was never at home with his low social status. In time he became a highly accomplished and very generous young man, extremely devoted to brahmans. The king of the gods, Indra, always wary of too much strength in the wrong hands, came to KarQa in the guise of a brahman, took advantage of the youth's exemplary generosity and tricked him into giving away the divine armor and earrings with which he was born. That was defInitely a mean trick to play on KarI).a, though he did grant him a superhuman spear in return for his armor and earrings (M.Bh. BORI 1. (40). KarIJ.a's incautious act of generosity was the first of a number of events that lead to Kan:ta's eventual downfall. Until shortly before the great battle of Kuru~etra, both Arjuna and KarI}.a were unaware of being uterine brothers. Yet., because both possessed a superhuman heroism, a godlike beauty, as well as some divine weapons, in short, because they were so much alike, a personal rivalry arose between them. It started during an archery tournament. Arjuna seemed to be the undisputed winner of the tournament when the handsome but anonymous KarI)a suddenly turned up and challenged him. At first KarIJa was not allowed to compete with his younger brother at all, because of his supposed humble social origin, and this public humiliation KaI'Qa would never be able to forget or forgive as long as he lived. However at this volatile moment. Duryodhana, the oldest of the Kaurava brothers and the enemy of the Pfu)(javas, stepped in and offered KaI1).a the kingdom of Ailga, thereby promoting him to instant k$atriya status and making him formally eligible to enter the competition. K3.I'Qa wholeheartedly accepted, and was profoundly touched by what he perceived as Duryodhana's act of extreme generosity, though it was also a strategic move on Duryodhana's part, of course. From this decisive moment on, KarIJa's loyalty would belong to the archenemy of his own brothers (M.Bh. BORI 1.124-127). Later on, as the two warring sides were preparing for the opening of hostilities,

~I)a

discretely approached Kart}.a and revealed to him his true identity as a Pfu)(java, the first-

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born of KuntL He offered KarIJa the option of crossing over to the Pfu).c;iava side, a move which would have weakened the Kaurava forces so significantly that they would have most probably been forced to wil:'ldraw as a result. He even assured KarQa that if he were to consent to join sides with his uterine brothers, they would all recognize him as their eldest and make him king. Immediately thereafter KuntI approached KarIJa secretly to confess that she was his real mother. The tormented mother thus hoped to avert the bloody conflict and the likely death of her sons. Ka.rQa, however, was so loyal to Duryodhana and so proud of this loyalty as to be willing to disown his newly found rightful status in order to not disappoint the only person who recognized his qatriya merits even when his real origins were unknown. KaIlJa was loyal to his adaptive patron to the very end, and this loyalty is admirable, but there was also a dark side to this steadfastness. He held a deep grudge against his mother who denied him her motherly love when he was an infant, and resented his alienated brothers, too. This combination of loyalty, pride and deep hurt and anger now made the war inevitable, and in a sense, brought about KaIlJa's own death and the death of most of the people he loved (M.Bh. BORI VI. 138-141). Later, when Yudhi~thira

was to lament inconsolably that to consolidate the kingdom he was forced to

cause the death of his own relatives, the (indirect) slaying of his older brother KarIJa was one of the sins that he regretted most bitterly.28 The rhetoric of praise and blame is quite suited for expressing the ambiguities of this complex character, whose story serves as the intersection of many issues around which the

Mahabhiirata revolves.

28S ee for instance M.Bh. BOR! XII.2.12.

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11.1.4. Examples of Praise and Blame Discourse in the Kan;a Parvan.

II.l.4.1. Praise: I) The narrator praises a dead warrior in lamentation.

Example: M.Bh. BOR! VIII.68.41-51 , Sanjaya's description of Ka:qta's dead body_ I quote the beginning:

Even when life had left that heroic son of Raciha slain in battle Whose annor had all been pierced with arrows, still, beauty did not abandon him. [His body] like polished lambii-river gold, endowed with various ornaments, The slain Vaikartana lay, King, like a tree with its (various) branches. He who had the looks of the choicest gold blazed like fIre ... (M.Bh. BORI VIll.68.41-43ab)

The eulogy goes on and turns into a full-fledged lament. Ka.!'Qa was generous, he never refused a supplicant, he would give even his life to a brahman. When he was slain, omens of cosmic disorder appeared: the sun turned pale and sank and the red planet Mercury arose in a slanted direction, the sky was tom asunder, the earth roared, the winds wailed, and so forth. 2) A warrior's self-praise or boasts when preparing to fight. The addressee may be the opponent, the charioteer or just anyone who may happen to be there. Example: In M.Bh. BORI VITI.54 Bhima finds himself surrounded by the enemy. He begins to wonder why

Yudhi~thira

and Arjuna are not coming to his aid but quickly

takes heart and prepares to face the enemy on his own. He ascertains the number of arrows left in his quiver and grimly boasts to his charioteer that he will either die, or alone cope with all the Kaurava forces (M.Bh. BOR! VIll.S4.17-24). I quote the beginning:

Driver! Behold today the gruesome aspect Of the battle, [covered] with the terrible enemy-piercing Arrows I have released, [dark] like the world Of death~ from which the sun has disappeared.

172

Today it will be known to alllqatriyas Even down to the young ones that Either Bhimasena has been sunk in battle, or that He shall single-handed defeat the Kurus. Let all Kurus fall in battle! Let everyone down to the young ones sing my praises! Single handed I shall slay all Or let them all sting me ...

CM.Bh. BORI VIll.54.17-19) 3) Two parties are about to enter into combat. A third party praises one side in order

to urge him on: Example: In M.Bh. BORI VIlI.50.47-65 Arjuna vows before

Yudhi~thira

to slay

KartJa, but immediately looses hean at the thought of KaIl)a's stature as warrior. He is about to back out but Kr~lJa urges him on, reminding him of his own heroic achievements

and of the divine weapons with which he is endowed. I quote one verse only:

Wielder of the G8.r).c;liva! In this world, no man but you could have Defeated in battle those whom you have defeated with this bow.

CM.Bh. BORI VIII.50.49) Here

Kr~lJa enumerates

some of Arjuna's famous conquests (verses 50-54) and

insists that Arjuna must fight K3.Il].a because only he is a match for KartJa (verses 55-65). 4) Pitting one person's praise against the other's praise: Example: Once Salya becomes Kan:ta's charioteer~ he uses the right that he had been granted to say anything he likes to K3.l'Qa To KarI}a's great annoyance, Salya praises KarQa's rival, Arjuna, at length CM.Bh. BORI VIIT.26.61-69). Salya goes on to warn KarQa that he hardly measures up to Arjuna's stature as a warrior (M.Bh. BORI VIIT.27.

31-52). To this series of insults the proud KarQa retorts:

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(Only) he who is endowed with virtue Knows the virtues of the virtuous - not he who is without virtue! And you are always virtueless. How would you, being without virtue, know his virtues? (M.Bh. BOR! VllI.27.54)

ll.1.4.2. Blame: 5) Two warriors are locked in combat. A third party enumerates the offenses of the one in order to encourage the other to fight harder. Example: Ka.n:aa's wheel gets stuck in the mud, and he begs Arjuna for a minute of respite (M.Bh. BOR! VllI.66.S9cd-65).

~lJa

reminds K8.I1)a of his misdeeds,

suggesting that he has no right to ask for mercy now (M.Bh. BORI VllI.67.1-5). I quote part of it:

Kr~Qa,

standing on the chariot, said:

'Congratulations, son of Ridha! Now you remember dharma ... It is typical of low folk that when they sink in a pit They blame fate and not their vile deeds. When the wicked Duryodhana, along with Dul}sasana, Sakuni SaubaJa And indeed, yourself, had Draupadlled into the assembly hall With only a single garment on her, At that time dharma did not manifest itself to you. When in the sabha that dicing-expert, Sakuni, prepared to defeat Yudhi~thira, That son of Kunti who was ignorant at dice, Where was your dhanna then? .. (M.Bh. BORI VIII.67.1-3)

The various manuscripts elaborate much on this scene, using the occasion to review KarI).a's transgressions in detail. For instance, some make ~lJa add that KarQa laughed at

174

Draupadl's humiliation at the assembly hail (sabhii), some make him point out that he also rudely told her to choose another husband on that occasion. and so forth. [n any case, the desired outcome of the accusations was achieved:

When

Kr~l)a said

these things to the son of Ra:dh~ Arjuna

Remembered each of these events. and was possessed of a bitter fury. (M.Bh. BORI VIII.67.6) 6) When a warrior has slain his opponent, he addresses the dead body, "reminding"

the dead person of his offenses .. Example: According to the reconstituted text (M.Bh. BORI VITI. 60.29 -

6l.17)~

while Bhlma and DUQsasana are locked in their struggle, Bhima completely refrains from words. At the critical

moment~

when the helpless Duttsasana is writhing in pain in front of

him, about to breath his last breath, Bhima does, however, silently recall the offenses of Dul).sasana and his brothers, and with this recollection in mind he proceeds to fulfill his terrible vow of vengeance. Only after he had silently drunk and savored the taste of the dead Dul).sasana's blood does Bhima speak out loud, asserting that the taste of this blood is sweeter to him than mother's milk or nectar (M .Bh. BORI Vill.61.7). In the presence of his shocked companions he than addresses the dead body and through it. [he Kaurava brothers as a collective:

There~

I drink this red blood from your throat, You base man!

[Go on] now, again say in excitement

"Cow~

Cow!"

The sleep at the palace of PramfuJako~, the poison-eating, The painful bites of cobras, the fire in the lacquer house; The stealing of the kingdom with dice, the forest sojourn ... And in battles, the arrows; and the grief at home ... We have constantly known such sorrows, never any joy, Because of the wickedness of Dhrtar~fra and his sons."

(M.Bh. BORI VIII. 6 1. 1 1-14)

175

And he goes on to proclaim:

Just as I have fulfilled my fIrSt vow With regard to Dubsasana today, So shall I also deliver my second vow this very day. I shall cut Duryodhana up like a sacrificial animal And crush his head with my foot Then I shall obtain peace in the presence of the Kauravas. (M.Bh. BORI VIII.6 1.16)

7) A "verbal dual." Two parties, locked in comba4 will insult each other. Example: The Bhima and Dubsasana struggle described in example (6) is an interesting case. While the critical text restricts BhIma's speech to after the killing, the various manuscript traditions seem to feel the need to supply this episode with some direct verbal exchanges between the villain and the avenger. Six such passages have been relegated to Appendix I and there are a few more at the bottom of the page in the critical apparatus. It is hard to count them because this is also a typical example of how the different versions are so intertwined that it makes no sense to disentangle them. In some of these Bhlma simply threatens DUQsasana, declaring his intention of fulfilling his vow. y

The more interesting cases are those in which Dul}sasana's point of view is recognized. In one such passage (*934. In T2 it is after M.Bh. BORI VllI.61.4, in K4 it follows a longer passage 934* which comes after M.Bh. BORI VIII. 6 1.5) Dubsasana faints, and Bhlma reflects that to drink the blood of an unconscious (or dead) Dul}sasana would not be sufficient revenge. He deliberately wakes his opponent up to force the villain to experience

his own final degradation. In some other expansions, Dubsasana even gets a chance to speak. In the following example, Dubsasana comes out as totally remorseless with regard to the molestation of Draupadl. In fact~ it seems that he regards molesting women in public as his natural right as a Iqatriya. He also deliberately provokes Bhlma by referring to the chaste queen Draupadf as if she was just any woman:

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(Bhlma:) "Show me the hand with which you seized DraupadI's hair, Villain! Shall I tear it out?" (Dul).sasana: ) "See the look of this handy hand, crusher of impassioned women's

breasts~

The hand which is a giver of thousands of cows and the death of warriors!" And Bhlmasena of exceeding impatience~ hearing these words, Uprooted Dubsasana's right hand, 0 vanquisher of foes! (935,* D3 after M.Bh. BOR! VllI.61.5) According to the Southern recension (Appendix 1# 28, after M.Bh. BORI VllI.60.31), Bhima announces to DUQsasana his intention to carry out now what he had long ago vowed to do in the assembly hall, in other words. to drink DUQsasana's blood. DUQsasana cynically responds to this allusion to a past event by reminiscing about other past "glories" of the Pru:tQavas, such as (their stay in) the lacquer house, their roaming night and day, restlessly. like game, putting up just anywhere, banished, devoid of comforts and joys ...

You roamed the forests and the mountain caves; Then entered the capital of Paiicala And took to some mean disguise So that your (man) Phalguna was covered by your (woman)

Kr~tia

And the union, that barbarian custom practiced by the wicked, Which you practiced to suit your mother The one (woman) covered and taken by the five (men)29 Without being ashamed of each other. (M.Bh. BORI VITI, Appendix I, passage #28, lines 23-30) 291 can only make sense of this pada by following the reading found in

G2,,3.

TI,3 and

177

These last insults are directed specifically at the Pfu)gavas' manly honor. The first is of course an illusion to the year of hiding in Virata's court., when the most manly among them had to live as a eunuch, in the protection of the women's quarters., where their wife served in such a lowly capacity that her very chastity was seriously at stake. The second refers to their polyandrous marriage which~ he is suggesting, made Draupadl a whore anyhow, so that it was all right for anyone to molest her. There is also the hint to the fact that Kunti herself had intercourse with more than one male, so that not only their wife but even their mother is a whore. He concludes with:

"I remember that (Sakuni), the son of Subala Has made slaves of you (five), and of Kr~I)a, too!"

eM.Bh. BORI vm, Appendix I, Passage # 28, lines 31-32)

ll.1.4.3. Boasting and blaming intertwined: 8) To magnify his own status, or to work himself up into a fury, a warrior

simultaneously praises himself and speaks ill of his opponent. Example: (M.Bh. BORI VIll.52) This 33 verse adhyiiya is one long boast., addressed by Arjuna to

~IJa.

It is noteworthy more for its sheer length, just to

demonstrate the Parvan's poets' love of this kind of boasting rhetoric, than for its poetic refinement or originality. The last part in particular demonstrates how stereotypical such boasts can be.

Today~ Kr~Q~

released from my Gfu)c;iiva bow, impelled by my own hand,

Will my temrinal shafts, undoers of KarI)a,30 lead KarIJa to his death; Today king Dhrtar~!£a shall repudiate that understanding of his Which led him to consecrate Duryodhana, that unworthy king.

30This is a pun. The word is "earless," vika~a, the term for a kind of shaft.

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Today, Great Armed One, will

Dhrtar~tra be

relieved

Of kingship, joy, prosperity, kingdom, cityy and sons. Today, when KarIJa is slain~ king Duryodhana Will have no (more) expectations of life. I tell you the truth! Today, seeing KarIJa dismembered with shafts by me Let the king (Dhrtar~tra) remember your messages of peace; Today~ ~1Ja, let that (Sakuni) son of Subala know

That the game is arrow shooting, the player the GiI}.Qiva, the playing-ring my chariot; That driver's son, Kart}.a who in battle looks at the ground~ Not at the other person 31 - today the eanh shall drink his blood, (Shafts) sent from my Gfu)c;liva will dispatch him on his last voyage. Today Radhi's son will regret his cruel speech to Draupadt When he reviled the PiQ.<;lavas in the midst of the assembly hall. When the wicked driver's son Vaikartana Kart}a is sIain~ Those who on that occasion were barren seeds ytoday will be fertile ones. He said: II shall protect you from the sons of PiI:tQu!' My sharp arrows shall make false his words.

(M.Bh. BORI VIII.52.S-I7) The speech goes on and on. For the most part it is a combination of two simpler patterns that we have already encountered: repeated declarations of "Today... Today ... Today ... n32 interwoven with the enumeration of the opponent's past sins. 33 I will save the

31The Southern manuscripts have: "degrades to the ground other men." 32S ee example 2 above.

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reader the trouble of going through the whole thing, but will quote the near-final boast passage: No one is my equal in archery, When it comes to prowess, who is equal to me? Who else is there like me in forbearance,

In my wrath, one such as me does not exist. With the strength of my anns I shall dispatch to death The anns-bearing gods and counter gods And all creatures come together. Know that my valor is higher than the highest... (M.Bh. BORI VIll.52. 31-32) These verses could be placed in the mouth of virtually any hero. In that sense they are more "formulaic" than boasts (or insults) which enumerate a specific warriorrs past deeds. 9) In one case eM.Bh. BORI VIll.63.28-55) it is the bystanders who, like spectators at a game or wrestling match, engage in verbal tauntings even as the warriors are locked in a life-and- death battle. When KarIJa and Arjuna face each other, "like two mighty planets," the whole universe comes to watch, and each and every being supports one side or the other:

Bull of the Bharatas! Then in the sky there were tauntings and debates (vivadas) A mutual division of beings between KaI1)a and Arjuna took place, The quarters of space and all the worlds, leaning in different directions, were split.

33S ee examples 5 &6 above.

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Gods, counter-gods and gandharvas, piiiicas, serpents and goblins Took sides in the encounter between KarIJa and Arjuna; Heaven with all its constellations was intent on KarIJa's side, King, The wide earth on AIjuna's, like a mother on her son's side, Bharata! The rivers, the seas and the mountains, Best of men, And the trees and the plants tended to Arjuna's side. The counter gods, the yatudhanas and the guhyakas And the ravens and other sky-roaming creatures were for K3l1Ja.... (M.Bh. BORI VITI.63.30-34) Actually, this passage is more concerned with describing the gathering and with pointing out who was on whose side, and less with the voicing of the points of view of the different sides, though it does state that "tauntings and debates" took place. It is significant nevertheless that the notion of a viviida is introduced. As we shall see in Chapter Three, the tenn invokes ritual associations. The participation of all beings and their breaking up into two sides not only imparts a cosmic dimension to the encounter but also resonates with the agonistic elements of Vedic and post-Vedic mythology and ritual. The repeated claim that the victory of Arjuna over KarTJa was like that of Indra over V rtr~ 34 as well as the equally ubiquitous comparisons of battle in general with a grand sacrifice35 are part of this same complex trope, which encompasses both the agonistic and the generally destructi ve aspects of war by cosmic-sacrificial images. This trope, which tends to "abstract away" the rich human nuances of the ambiguous Mahabhiirata situation, is not very typical of the Ka17)a Parvan. Here there is little ambiguity. The more auspicious

34For instance M.Bh. BORI VllI.67 .l159*(in the apparat after 23). 35For instance M.Bh. BORI VIII.68.62.

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beings and entities are predictably on the side of Arjun~ and the less auspicious ones on the side of KarJJa The lower varQas are on Ka.rI)a's side, the briihmaT].as and Iqatriyas, on Arjuna's. The gods and the counter-gods ware on opposite sides, the gods supporting Arjun~

of course. But this schematizing, hierarchizing move is not complete. The

unavoidable per-given fact that the god Surya is KarI)a's father somewhat disturbs this black-and-white scheme. When Indra and Siirya dispute with each other saying: tYLet Arjuna vanquish Kat1).a!" and vice versa, they are equal opponents, just as KarI).a is significantly Arjuna's equal. Brahma must eventually resolve the balance of powers between the two divine beings by proclaiming that KaI'Qa has to be defeated simply because he is on the wrong side. He goes on to praise Arjuna's virtues at length, and the passage takes the form of a hymn of praise to a god or gods (a stotra). He proclaims .. for instance. that ~IJa and Arjuna are the creators of the world. l<.a.nJa's virtues are acknowledged but relegated secondary status. Ka.rI)a, concludes

Brahm~

may obtain the

worlds reserved for heroes, but the victory itself belongs to Arjuna. In this interesting unit a hierarchical, subjugating discourse which emphasizes the fact that the outcome of the struggle was predetermined wins over the open ended agonistic discourse which is nevertheless discernible and without which the whole significance of the situation would have been effaced. For the hierarchical discourse, KaI1).a is a social inferior and a man who committed many wrongdoings. For the agonistic discourse, KaIl)a must be not only brave and noble, but semi-divine like AIjuna himself if his defeat is to have the cosmic significance that it does.

II.I.S. The Reflexive Functions of Praise and Blame Rhetoric. We have already noted that praise and blame rhetoric helps the combatants to enter their special state of fury. The accompaniment of physical fights with a verbal ones serves as "encouragement," both in the sense of the cheering of a crowd in a wrestling match and

182

in a more specific magic or ritual sense, a "quickening" effect. When

~Qa

enumerated

KarQa's misdeeds Arjuna became furious. and the cosmic vivooa which accompanied the fight between KarQa and AIjuna served to "quicken" their fight. The invocations of semantic connections between battle and ritual. as interesting as it is. is relatively marginal in this Parvan. These analogies are much more developed in other parts of the Mahiibharata, a theme to which we shall return in Chapter Three.

ll.l.S.l. Memory and Reflection: In our examination of the Bhima-Du1)sasana encounter (examples 6 and 7) we have seen that there is a great affinity between the content of Bhima's private recollection of the origins of his enmity with Duf)sasana and the contents of his public address (in some of the manuscripts) to DUQsasana in which he reminds him of the same. Other manuscripts have Dul)Sasana himself recall the same events. In each case, the audience/reader is reminded why Bhima is about to kill Dul)sasana and drink his raw blood. Each of these options is significantly different, however. In one case Duf)sasana for all we know may not even be aware of all his misdeeds, in the second. DUQsasana has no chance to express his repentance while in the third case he is granted such a chance and rejects it, choosing to delight in the memory of his wicked deeds instead. Nevertheless, all these variations share the function of contextualizing the limited battle scene within the Mahabharata larger narrative, of making us reflect on the significance of this specific encounter. The greater attention in some manuscripts to the sinner's state of consciousness at the time of punishment may reflect some later uneasiness with the savageness of the punishment as well as a later sensibility that any sinner, however vile his sins may be, deserves a chance to repent. The expansions found in the manuscripts function much like commentaries. We cannot precisely isolate or fix this hypothetical preexisting text, but we can presume that there was the textual "fact"

183

that Bhlma killed DUQsasana and drank his raw blood. This was a powerful~ disturbing fact, and required some kind of comment. 36

ll.l.S.2. Contemplating Alternative Possibilities: The Mahabharata abounds with narrative elements and other constructs which prefigure the end of the conflict even before it begins. There is a strong fatalistic voice in it. But there is also another, equally important, voice, the open ended one. When KaIl)a speaks so eloquently of his prowess and declares his confidence in his ability to win, the listeners (or readers) are invited to contemplate the possibility of the outcome of the encounter being other than it is actually known to be. The very notion of a battle or a fight requires some degree of openendedness, just as there is no point to a contest if its outcome has been perfectly fixed from the start. Similarly, a narrative which does not leave the reader in some doubt about its end is of little interest. The praise of the side which is eventually going to lose serves to enhance that open-endedness of the battle situation from the narratoiogical point of view, to create the suspense, if you wilL Later we will see that it also has ritual meanings.

ill.I.S.3. Enhancing Ambiguities: When KaIlJa is reviled in some of these episodes (for instance, when

~IJa

recalls KarIJa's conduct in the assembly hall) and

praised in others (as when his dead body is compared to the fire of the sun) a complex picture of the man begins to arise. KarI)a was magnificently generous and loyal to his friends, but he was also outrageously cruel to DraupadI when he mocked her as she was being publicly molested. He was a truly fascinating combination of nobility and baseness. The figure of KarIJa, of all the characters in the Mahabharata, is perhaps the most inviting

36The complex manuscript situation in the Bhirna-Dul)sasana case also supports my decision to classify after-death praises and insults as a fonn of, or as a close kin of, the praise and blame exchanges between living warriors (above section ll.I.I.)We see how easily the one fonn may interchange with or supplement the other in the practice of the scribes which probably reflects oral recitation practices.

184

of such playing-around with ambiguities~ because of this unusual psychological complexity. In the next chapter~

n.2~

we shall see how this ambiguity of Kal1}a's character

is enhanced and developed to the level of a dialogic maze. The fascination with ambiguities is however not restricted just to the figure of KarT)a. In section 11.3 we shall see that it extends even to one of the most central figures of the Mahabharata, to king

Yud.hi~thira

himself.

1I. 2. Double Talk: The ~a1ya and Kan)a Verbal Dual (M.Bh. BOR!

VIII.26-30).

II.2.1. Counter-Praise. It is the morning before the final encounter between Kan)a and AIjuna. Salya had just become KarI}a's charioteer~ and the team of two stands on the chariot. ready to go. KartJa is pretty much following the conventions of heroic boasting that we have observed in example 2 of section II. 1.4.1 when he declares: Long-anned Saly~ urge the horses, so that I may slay Arjun~ Bhlma, the twins and king Yudhi~thira!

Let Arjuna today see the might of my arms As I hurl hundreds and thousands of feathered arrows! Today, Saly~ I shall dispatch super-sharp shafts For the destruction of the pfu:t<;[avas and for the victory of Duryodhana! (M.Bh. BOR! VIll.26.24-26)37

371n proclaiming that he will kill all fi ve P&JQavas~ KarIJa is contradicting his own promise to Kunti~ namely that he will only attempt to kill Arjuna, so that whether Arjuna or himself get killed, she will in the end still have five sons (M.Bh. BORI V.142-144).

185

Our whole episode is in a way produced by a deviation from the expected boasting conventions. Instead of supporting his master's claims, or at least assenting to them as a loyal charioteer should, Salya objects to Karr.ta's boasts: 38 Son of a sura, how is it that you think so little of the PfuJc;;lavas Who are all great archers, experts in all weapons, Fortunate heroes of real prowess who never turn back, invincible Why, they could terrify even Indra himself! When you hear the sound of the Gfu}c;liva like a resounding thunder

In battle, then you will not speak thus, Son of Radha.!

(M.Rh. BORI VIII.26.27-29) KarIJa at first resists getting into an argument. "Today you shall see!", he says, and the Kaurava forces, sounding their numerous instruments, and ignoring the various bad omens that happen to appear, proceed. Only a whiJe later, having contemplated the death of Bhr~ma and DroQa, and baving recalled Arjuna's incomparable feats, does KarIJa respond to his charioteer's unusual chalJenge. He does not address himself to Salya, though, but to the whole Kuru army:

Standing in my chariot, bow in hand, I do not fear even the wrathful thunder-bearing Indra. Steadfastness does not abandon me even When I've seen BhIma and the others lying (dead).

Could this be another indication that the KarIJa traditions of the Udyoga Parvan and the Kart}a Parvan may have developed somewhat independently, see below p. 38Note that Salya is not objecting to the act of boasting of itself, since it is conventional. He himself engages in it as a matter of fact during fighting, for example M.Bh. BOR! IX.9.2-3.

186

Even when this seemingly invincible pair has been slain by the foe, Those two who were faultless, like Indra and Vi~I)u, Crushers of the best chariots, of horses and elephants Even then I am not39 afraid in this battle today.

Having seen men, horses, elephants and chariots Struck by shafts in the battle Why did the teacher, the great weapons- knowing brahman Not kill all of the enemies in battle? Remembering the death of DroI)a in the great sacrifice of battle,

I tell you truly ... Listen, you Kurus! Except myself, none of you could defeat Arjuna Who comes striding, looking as terrible as Death ... DroQa was artful and clear, strong and firm He had great weapons as well as humility;

If this great soul went to the kingdom of death Then I today consider all others to be feeble/doomed All actions are bound to things passing. Upon reflection Nothing in this world is found to be enduring; For who, free of doubt, would today take pride (garvaTfl kurvlta) in the rising sun When the two preceptors have fallen? Neither weapons, force, valor, Nor action, policy or superior battles

Will suffice to bring about human happiness When the teacher has thus been slain in battle by the enemy

39S ome

manuscripts have "I am afraid.

II

187

His weapon did not protect him who was so difficult to defeat Whose splendor was like that of fire and sun Whose prowess was like that of ViglU and Indra Who in conduct was like Brhaspati and Us an as When women and children are crying When the valor of Dh.rt~tra's men is degraded

I know that it is I who must do

i~

So drive on to the enemy line~ SaIya! Where the truthful king Yudhi~thira stands And BhImasena and Arjuna are (among the enemy); And vasudeva, the Srnjayas and Satyaki And the twins ... Who except me could bear against them? Drive on, then, King of the Madras ~ I know that I shall either encounter in battle

The Pancruas, the Pfu)<;favas and the Srfijayas And S lay them, Or follow DroQa... (M.Bh. BOR! VllI.26.42-52)

For the sake of brevity I omit the rest of this interesting speech which goes on to verse 60. The introductory verse describes Kat1Ja as "burning with proud indignation and concei4 breathing heavily and shining with rage"40 when he utters these words. 41 In fact the speech is a combination of boasting, lament, and reflection, expressing a much more complex mood than this description would suggest. Despite his declarations of confidence, KaIlJa is not at all sure that he will win. He is impelled as much by his sense of loyalty to his friends and by the sense of noble obligation which his outstanding fighting

40manena darpena ca dahyamanal). krodhena dlpyanniva nii}5vasitva (M.Bh. BOR! vm.26.41cd) 41M.Bh. BORI vm.26.41.

188

abilities impose on him, as by confidence. Even as he works himself into a fighting spirit he prepares himself to face his own death by cultivating a detached mood. SaIya, however~ ignores all these complexities~ and continues his attempts to dishearten KarIJa by praising Arjuna and enumerating his deeds:

Stop, stop this talking, KartJa!

You are too impetuous, you speak too improperly. For where in this world is the most excellent manlNara. 42 Dhanafijaya, and where are you? Desist, you fool! Who but Arjuna could have abducted The younger sister of ~I}.a, Fiercely searching the Yadu residence Guarded by Vi~l}u and Indra?43

In this world, what man but Arjuna Could have summoned to a duel over a hunting dispute The Lord of Lords, Siva, The Creator of the three worlds?44 To honor the god of fire, J aya licked with his arrows Counter-gods and gods, men and serpents,

Pisacas, yalqas, raqasas, and that bird-king Garuc;la; And he offered Agni the much-craved oblation.45

42This is a pun. Arjuna is a man (nara) but he is also considered an incarnation of the sage N ara 43 The reference is to the Subhadriiharal)a subparvan, M.Bh.

BaRl I.211-212.

44The reference is to a part of the Kiriita subparvan, M.Bh. BaR! m.38-42. 45The reference is to the Khii1J.r;Javadaha suhparvan, M.Bh. BaR! I.214-225.

189 Surely you remember how

Dhrtar~tra's

son

Who was seized by foes was released? Son of the Suny 46 recall that you Were the fIrSt to flee on that occasion! Yet the most excellent PIDJQavas Slew the countless desert hosts They licked those free roaming Gandharvas And set free the quarrelsome sons of Dhrtar~tra.47 Arjuna vanquished the Kaurava forces on the cattle raicL too; Their hosts and their mounts were supported then By the master [DroQa], by his son [ASvatthamanJ and by BhI~ma Why did you not defeat Arjuna then ?48 (M.Bh. BOR! VTII.26.62-68) Had SaIya been Arjuna's charioteer, this enumeration of exploits would have qualified as straight-forward heroic praise such as we have already encountered. 49 As KarI)a immediately notes, the same praise is inappropriate, however, because it is addressed to

KarIJ~

and Arjuna is his adversary.

Let it be, let it be. Why do you praise the wrong way (kirrz vikatthase)? My battle with him is coming up If he defeats me in the great encounter

46 Accept for this occurrence, Salya keeps addressing KarI)a as sura. Surely he does not and can not know that KaIl)a is Surya's son, and it does not make sense that he would be addressing him as such. Only one manuscript, K4, attempts to get rid of this inconsistency, though.

47Tbe reference is to a part of the Gho$ayatra subparvan, M.Bh. BOR! ill.227-240.

48The reference is to the Gohara1J.a subparvan, M.Bh. BORI IV.24-62. 49S ee M.Bh.

BORI ill. 1.4 (above examples 3, 5, 6).

190

Then may be this praise of yours will be appropriate!

CM.Bh. BOR! VIll.26.70) Nevertheless, KaI1)a is still not interested in pointless argumentation. "Drive, King of

the Madras!" he commands dryly. He focuses on the fight. As they proceed through the raging battle, Kart)a keeps searching for Arjuna while he offhandedly kills other enemies on the way "as the sun destroys darkness." At the same time~ he also addresses every PID.)Qava soldier that they encounter, offering rich rewards to anyone who will point out to

him Arjuna's whereabouts. This verbal peIfonnance is not motivated only by the practical desire to locate his adversary. It is also a fonn of boasting. KaIl)a is simultaneously articulating to himself his detennination to face the terrible Arjuna on his own. and announcing this same intention to the world. His boast follows the familiar "Today I shalL .. Today I shalL." pattern, but it is enhanced with a deliberate display of the virtue of which Kart:la is most proud, namely, his famous generosity. Salya, though, finds nothing but faults in this heroic perfonnance. He belittles KarIJa's precious generosity. Gifts, he

points out, must be bestowed in "proper vessels," namely, learned brahmans and sacrifices. He is also not impressed by KarI)a's declaration of intention to single-handedly

fight Arjuna:

Your intention to slay the two

~I)as

is vain, the result of a delusion,

For we have not heard that a pair of lions has ever been slain by a jackal.

(M.Bh. BOR! VllI.27.22) Salya insists that he is saying these disheartening things "from concern for the good of Dhrtar~tra, not out of hostility"{M.Bh. BORI VIIL27.27). Is he sincere? One cannot help noticing, for instance, that he himself, upon being nominated commander general to the Kaurava army after Kart:la's death, felt it appropriate to give a pretty extravagant boasting performance, in which he declared that he himself was a better warrior than the

191

two Kr$l)as 50 and that he would definitely be able to defeat the whole Pru:agava force. 5 I At

this stage of the battle such declarations could not have reflected the kind of realistic assessment that he urged KarIJa to make. Whether Salya is sincere is a tricky question, to which we shall return later. KarIJ~ at any rate, ever faithful to Ouryodhana, can only interpret Salya's behavior as an act of betrayal. No wonder he is enraged:

Let me just get some rest and I shall challenge Arjuna's heroism ... And you are an enemy in the guise of a friend! You wish to intimidate me.

No one, however, not even Indra with his Vajra raised, Could deter me from our purpose today; how much less so a mortal.

(M.Bh.. BORI VIII. 27 .28cd-29) Salya insists, however, that he only represents the voice of reason., all the while rubbing in the point of Kan}a's inferiority: Like some child who., lying in his mother's lap Wants to grasp the moon So do you, exerting yourself in your chariot, Seek to conquer AIjuna today. You are clinging to a sharp-bladed trident And rubbing all your limbs against it.. For the deeds of AIjuna, whom you today Intend to fight, are like sharp blades. The young, foolish lowly deer, being swift, Might summon the mature, huge-maned lion; Such is your summons of Arjuna

SOM.Bh. BORI IX.7.2 c-f. SlM.Bh. BORI IX.7.11-17.

192

To battle today, Driver's Son!

(M.Bh. BOR! VllI.27.33-35) Salya continues to elaborate on the point, using a variety of images to embellish the contrast between AIjuna's greatness and Ka.rt:ta's lack thereof. Ka.rt)a is like a jackal summoning a lion or a hare an elephan4 he is like one who hits a cobra with a 7

stick~

like

(an ordinary) snake challenging (the king of birds) Garuga, like one who intends to cross the ocean with a raft, like a calf challenging a smiting bulL The poets obviously enjoyed elaborating the point as well as spelling out its implications:

As long as you don't hear the sound of the Gir,lc#va (bow) You may speak as you wish, K3.I1Ja! But when you see Arjuna causing the ten directions to resound With the noise of his chariot and bow, then you shall become ajackaJ. You have always been ajackaI and Arjuna has always been a lion, You hate the brave, and this, fool, distinguishes you as nothing but a jackal!

(M.Bh. BORI VIll.27.48-50) Kart)a's rhetoric counter-move is on the par with his fighting skills. Arjuna's glory is not necessarily KarI}a's degradation! Like a skilled fighter who knows how to tum even his opponent's strength to his own advantage, he proceeds to elaborate on his opponent's merits, asserting, nevertheless, that he understands the extent of Arjuna's prowess precisely because of his own profound knowledge of the art of war.

(Only) he who is endowed with virtue Knows the virtues of the virtuous - not he who is without virtue! And you are always virtueless. How would you, being without virtue, know his virtues?

(M.Bh. BORI VIII. 27 .54)

193

Having gained his balance, so to speak. KaIlJa can now praise his own special weapons and express his confidence in his ability to defeat both Arjuna and

~1Ja

(M.Bh.

BOR! vm.27.55-64). We have already pointed out this passage as an example of the rhetorical device of praising one's opponent as a way of doubly magnifying one's own prowess.52 But there is more to KarQa's maneuver than just weight shifting. KarQa is here resisting what he perceives as Salya's mean spirit. In praising his enemy ~ he is displaying his own generosity~ and indirectly pointing out SaIya's lack thereof. Another important shift has taken place~ however. and this one unbeknownst to KarI)a. Gradually, he has ceases to regard SaIya as his faithful partner in anTIS. He realizes that he must prepare himself to face the formidable pair of Arjuna and Kr~lJa on his

own~

without the support of a charioteer. Rather than complain~ though, he counts himself as fortunate to be faced with such a challenge. He simply refuses to consider the possibility of defeat:

These two tiger-men, standing in their chariot united~ Assail me alone. Regard me as fortunate, Salya! You shall see this invincible pair of cousin-brothers slain by me Like a pair of precious pearls fixed on a string. (M.Bh. BOR! VIII.27.63-64) The normally trustful KarIJa has fallen into the trap of suspicion. Faced with this unfamiliar sentiment~ Ka.rI).a begins to reason. If he himself is unafraid of Arjuna and ~1J~ and if Salya does feel such fear, it must be because Salya is a coward. Suspicion

turns to hostility:

52S ee M.Bh. BORI ill. 1.4. I (above example 4).

194

Arjuna carries the G~c;liva. ~Qa the Cakra. With bird and monkey banners~ They make the cowardly shake with fear.

t

SaIy~ am thrilled by them!

You, however, are of a base nature, Fool! You know nothing of great battles! Overcome by terror, your fear makes you speak much nonsense ~

(M.Bh. BORI VIll.27.65-6) Up to this point KarIJa's mind was intently focused on the great challenge which he has undertaken. He deeply respected his future opponents. Even now there may be a suggestion of (unconscious?) devotional feeling in his attitude toward Kr~lJa and Arjuna, expressed by the tenn har~a. 53 Could his single-minded antagonism have brought him to the brink of something like bhakti? Anyhow, had the episode stopped here, it would have been a great tribute to KarIJa's character, but the episode does not stop here. Something suddenly turns round in him. He is determined not to think ill of Arjuna and

~I)a,

and

indeed, he never sinks that low, but instead~ his mounting hostility turns against Salya Suddenly, the opponent is neither AIjuna nor Kr~Qa - it is SaIya. At the same time, his discourse slips into a far from generous mode:

Why do you praise these two? You native of a bad country! When I've killed them, I shall surely kill you and your relatives. You native of a bad country, fool, lowly destroyer of /c.fatriyas!

An enemy turned friend, why are you making me fear the two

Kr~l).as?

They stand in battle. Either they kill me today or I kill them. I am not afraid of the two

~lJas

- I know my own strength.

53A thrilled sensation, the feeling of one's hair standing on end, a pleasurable

combination of fear and joy, erotic excitement. The expression is often used, especially in Kr~IJaite devotional poetry, to suggest the special sensation of direct encounter with the divinity.

195

I alone shall kill thousands of Kr~Qas and hundreds of Arjunas. Silencel You native of an inferior land! The people - women, children and old men, when they feel like jesting Thye are always singing about the wicked inhabitants of (your country) Madra Pretending to be reciting the Veda Listen to these songs: These songs have in the past been told properly in the presence of kings. Listen attentively, Fool! Then, you may either keep your peace or respond.

(M.Bh. BORI VllL27.67-72) And he launches into a lengthy abuse of Salya's country, M~ and its people, the Madrakas. The fierce verbal attack is resumed with even more elaboration after a brief break - in other words, our text contains two separate Madra abuse units. We will deal extensively with these two passages below. I would like to give the reader a sense of what these units are like. I have therefore fully translated the first round of Madra-abuse, which I chose because it is the shorter of the two. It runs as follows:

The Madraka always betrays his friends; he who hates us is a Madraka; There is no friendship in the Madraka, the lowest of men .. of base speech. The Madraka is ever wicked~ always insincere and crooked, They say that to the very moment of their death the Madrakas are wicked. Father, mother and son; mother in law, father in law and maternal uncle; Son in law, daughter, brother and grandson, each of these, also other associatesThe women, willfully mix with men. Stray visitors, known and unknown, Are kin [to them]; they consort with male and female slaves!

In their homes these tleducated" Madrakas, eaters of barley mixtures, Always imbibe liquor with their beef, they cry out loud and laugh, Sing unrestrained songs and conduct themselves as they wish. They chat with each other about passionate love ... How can there be dharma

In these lost Madrakas who are infamous for their bad deeds? One should treat the Madrakas with neither hostility nor friendship. There is no alliance with the Madrakas, for the Madrakas are fickle.

196

Purity is difficult to touch among the Madrakas and among the Gandharas Just as an oblation offered in a sacrifice in which the king acts as priest is wasted. " 'Just as a brahman who officiates for a iudra falls from

caste~

So does a hater of brahmans always fall from caste in this world. There is no friendship with a Madraka. The scorpion's venom is destroyed.' With this Atharv3I)a spell let all [poisons] be pacified. to With the above [spell] do the wise cure scorpion-bitten people And those struck by various poisons. Evidently, these [words] must be true. Knowing this, hold your tongue... Now listen to the following saying: "[Madra] women., intoxicated with drink, throw up their garments and dance ...

In the sexual act they are unrestrained and behave as they please." How could a Madr~ a son of such a woman, merit to speak about dharma? "They urinate standing, just like the she-camel and the she-ass." And you., the offspring of such uninhibited women whose shame has been lost

In every way, wish to speak about dharma? "When asked for suvlraka54 the Madraka woman scratches her buttocks And because she doesn't wish to give it, speaks the following cruel words : 'Let no lover of mine ever ask me for collirium I would give [away] my son anytime, but I would not give collirium!"1 They say that the women of Madra are fat and shameless., Dressed in wool-garments, voracious, generally impure, And so on and so forth ... lor the others could tell you a lot [more] ... Their low ways are reprehensible, to the roots of their hairs and tips of their nails! And how would the Madrakas, the Sindhus and the Sauvlras, know dharma?

54According to Monier-Williams, a kind of collirium.

197

They are barbarians emlecchas), born in an evil country, ignorant of the laws ...

eM.Bh. BORI VIll.27.73-91) At this point KarI)a suddenly drops his hostile speech and returns briefly to his previous, more generous state of mind:

We have heard that the foremost duty of the warrior is To lie down [and die], honored by the good. having been slain in battle.

I wish to attain heaven, so my primary duty is To be liberated from this world in a conflict of weapons. And I am the dear friend of the wise son of Dhrt~tra My life and whatever wealth I possess is [dedicated] to him.

CM.Bh. BORI VIll.92-94) But all too soon he reverts to attack Salya. He begins, as before, with a threat that he might kill him:

And you, Native of a bad country, are evidently an instrument of the Pfu)c;lavas Since in all matters you conduct yourself towards us just like an enemy. Very well! For even a hundred of your sort cannot cause me to tum away From battle, just as heretics cannot tum a knower of the law from the law. Go on, moan and wither as you wish like a heat-struck antelope. I am established in the warriors' mode of life, you cannot frighten me. I recall the way of those lions among men who do not tum back in battles, It once was declared to me by my teacher Para.surama. Know that I have undertaken Puriiravas'55 supreme mode of life, I am ready to protect my own as well as to kill my enemies. I do not see in the three worlds a being, Madraka,

55King Puriiravas was the son of Budha and lla and the founder of the lunar dynasty. He was an extremely fierce warrior. His love for the apsaras UrvaSl is famous. (~V 10.95; SatapathabrahmaT)a 11.5.1; M.Bh BORI 1.15-22 etc.

198

Who could cause me to tum away from our cause. Such is my resolutionl Knowing this, hold your tongue for fear... Why do you talk so much? Lest I kill you, base Madraka, and present you to the beasts of prey. For these three reasons alone you live, Salya! My regard for Duryodhana's friend. And the twin [considerations of] avoiding slander and acting with forbearance. [But] if you speak like this again, King of the Madras, I shall cut your head off with a mace like a thunderbolt. Native of a bad country! Today the world will hear or see that Either the two K.r$lJas have killed KarQa, or KarQa has killed those two.

(M.Bh. BOR! VITI. 27 .95-104) Salya, however, proves not to be easily intimidated by the repeated threat, and continues to speak. at the risk of loosing his head. He cleverly averts KarIJa's wrath, however, by temporarily shifting to indirect language. In fact he talks quite a lot, telling a very long parable about a pampered pet crow who out of foolish conceit challenges a wild goose to a flying competition. As the story goes, the pet crow would have drowned in the ocean, if he were not saved by the goose's kindness (M.Bh. BORI VIII.28.I-S4). This is one of the few non-heroic episodes in the Ka17)a Parvan, the two others being contained in the exchange between Arjuna and Yudhi~thira with which we shall deal in the next chapter. The fact that legends are found only in these two units supports my contention that the two verbal duel units are related in a significant way, perhaps composed in similar circles. Despite the length and the indirectness of the parable, the basic moral of SaIya's story is in essence the same as before: "[For] where in this world is the most excellent man, Dhanafijaya, and where are you?

Desist~

you fool!" (M.Bh. BaRl vm.26.62cd). It does,

however, also add an insult-motif, in that it compares KaIl)a's dependence on his corrupt patron Duryodhana to the state of one who is so lowly that he must subsist on the leftovers of, or depend on, second-rate people:

Just as that crow [was fed] with left-overs in the home of the Vaisya So are you, no doubt, fed on left-overs by the sons of Dhrt~tra

199

You consider yourself better than all your equals and superiors~ KarI)a! (M.Bh. BORI VTII.28.55) The sudden shift to the telling of a parable in the middle of a battle may seem a little odd to some readers but it is actually very much a part of the ongoing verbal dual between Salya and KarI)a. which in itself is an interlude in the battle narration. The phenomenon of a lengthy interlude in the middle of a battle narrative is of course quite familiar (the most well known example being the Bhagavadgltii). Salya uses the animal parable both as a stalling strategy, to slow down his over-heated opponen~ and as one more weapon in his insultattack. Once this is achieved, Salya can move on to another sure method of wounding a warrior's pride, namely, the enumeration of his past failures. He mentions three past incidents in which KarI}a might have shown his superiority over AIjuna, but failed to do so. The first took place during the Kauravas' raid on Vrrata's cattle. Kan:ta then had the advantage of the support of DroQa, Bhl~ma and other heroes now dead, yet failed to defeat Arjuna. 56 The second took place when Arjuna slew KarI)a's brother even as the Kauravas were looking on. On that occasion, KarI}a fled instead of challenging his brother's killer. 57 The thir~ when the Gandharvas, headed by Citrasena, took Duryodhana prisoner despite KarI).a. It was Arjuna who released Duryodhana from this plight because none of Duryodhana's friends, not even KarIJa, were able to do so.58 Two of these three occasions have already been mentioned by SaJya in his enumeration to KarJ)a of Arjuna's heroic exploits (M.Bh. BaR! VIll.26.66-68). In fact, the same two occasions will also be alluded to by

Kr~Qa

in his enumeration of AIjuna's

56Gohara{la subparvan M.Bh. BOR! IV .24-62. 57Sa1!lsaptakavadha subparvan M.Bh. BaRr VIT.31.58-60.

58Go~ayiitra subparvan M.Bh. BORI ID.227 -240.

200

heroic exploits. 59 The simple fact is that blame of one side is the praise of the other. Blame is the inverse side of praise. The repetitive quality of praise and blame rhetoric is enriched and nuanced by variations on the theme. A quilt-like aesthetic quality is thus created, sometimes rather simple and sometimes quite complex. The device is exploited to the fullest in the KarQa-Salya dialogue, which is not only fonnally rich, or rich in ambiguities, but has a considerable level of psychological sophistication too. For this particular verbal duel, for all its entertainment-value, is clearly a case of psychological warfare.

KartJa's ensuing retort shows that his defenses have begun to crumble under this massive psychological attack. He attempts to reiterate a point he already made before, that his resolution to fight does not stem from his ignorance of the fighting abilities of Arjuna and

~Qa.

He insists that on the contrary, he knows better than anyone the pair's merits as

warriors. The repetition may be the first symptom of KarQa's disturbed nervous state. The more severe symptom is his inability to tum the argument into a source of strength, as he had successfully done before. Rather, the recollection of the adversary's strength now opens the door to fear. He is even reduced to confiding his fear in the same person whom he has just called an enemy in the guise of a friend, Salya He does insist, though, that he fears not because of the greater prowess of his opponents, but because he has once been cursed by his mentor ParaSudima. This is a long story in itself. ParaSurama was a brahman master of the arts of war who would only teach brahmans.

Ka.rQ~

to be accepted as a pupil, had deceived his guru

regarding his caste, pretending to be a brahman. When the deceit was discovered, ironically through a trick of Indra and an unusual display of heroism and devotion on

59S ee

above M.Bh. BORI II. 1.4.1 (above example 3).

201

KarIJa's pan, ParaSurama cursed Kart}a that he would forget the magic weapon which he had learned by fraud at the very moment when his life would depend on it.60

In away, Ka.t1J.a's confessed premonitions of failure only enhance the heroism of his resolution to fight and to resist Partha etas the shore resists the waves of the mighty ocean." The image he uses betrays, however, a sudden blunt recognition that he probably is the weaker party. This change for the worse in KarQa's state of mind becomes even more evident when he begins to compare Arjuna to the sun and to a blazing fire and declares that

he himself would tum into a rain cloud which would obscure or drench that suo. KaI"Qa's imagery Gust like Duryodhana's when he compare KaIlJa and Salya to Siva and Brahma) is all wrong, since KarIJa's own father is the sun, and Arjuna is the son of Indra, the god of rain. Ka.rQa is usually described with sun, light, heat and gold imagery, and he usually tends himself to identify with such images. 61 Clearly, his sense of self has eroded in a dangerous way if he imagines himself as a cloud and AIjuna as the sun. Agaio he reiterates that he is highly aware of Aljuna's and Kr~Qa's special powers. and declares that he would gladly praise them (M.Bh. BOR! VIII. 29 .19ab), but instead of going 00 to do so. as he did before, he again lapses into a second and even more bitter attack on Salya. Salya is a false friend to Duryodhana, he charges again, even as he himself is a true friend to the Kaurava king. He, KarQa, being a real friend, will fight for Duryodhana's sake. He will also forgive Salya for friendship's sake.

6Cl'fhis story is also told in M.Bh. BOR! XII.2-3. Kart)a's tendency to proudly identify with the sun, see M.Bh. BOR! VTII.26.47: "All actions are bound to things passing. Upon reflection, nothing in this world is found to be enduring; For who, free of doubt, would today take pride (garva1!l kurvlta) in the rising sun, when the two preceptors have fallen?" For descriptions of KarQa with SUD, fire, light or gold imagery, see M.Bh. BOR! VIII.26.41cd; M.Bh. BORI VIII.67.24; M.Bh. BOR! VIII.67.27; M.Bh. BORI VIll.68.37; M.Bh. BOR! VIll.68.43. 61 For

202

To Karr.ta, the most imponant vinues are generosity and friendship. He had already accused Salya of lacking these virtues and associated this lack with his lowly country of birth. With these reflections on friendship KarIJa is attempting to re-enter his heroic mood. but just as he begins to work himself into a new round of heroic boasting,. doubt overcomes him again. His repeated denials of fear end in a pathetic attempt to resume the mood of heroic boasting by a single declaration that he shall surely defeat Arjuna today:

Therefore I fear neither Pirtha nor J anirdhana Today my battIe-to-death with those two will take place! (M.Bh. BORI VTII.39.30)

But the boasting mood,. which nonnally requires many repetitions of this type of declaration to be effective, comes to an abrupt halt here with one more sudden confession of a deeply hidden fear: "If just my wheel should not fall into a pit.

II

It is a long story again, as Kan::ta confesses to SaIya. KaI1:Ja had once by mistake

killed the calf of a brahman's cow, and the infuriated brahman cursed him, as brahman do, that at a crucial moment his chariot wheel should fall into a pit. Pitifully Kar:Qa tells Salya how hard he had worked to avert that curse., but to no avail. Now, the fear that the moment for the curse to be realized has come suddenly overcomes him (M.Bh. BORI VIII. 29 .3139). But KarIJa's frank, trusting mood quickly changes again. Almost immediately he denies the same fear:

Even ifIndra and all the gods were to fight me, I would not feel any fear. Why than should I fear Arjuna and Kr~IJa? There is no way that mere words could frighten me. Him whom you have been able to frighten is other than myself. (M.Bh. BORI VllI.30.3-4)

203

KarQa, it seems, is going through a severe identity crisis. He is less and less coherent. Once more, he tries to console himself with the thought that Salya is unable to recognize his heroic virtues because of SaIya's own base nature.

As to the insult which you have spoken - such is the strength of the inferior. Being mean hearted and incapable of grasping our virtues, you make a big fuss. (M.Bh. BORI VITI.30.S)

K.a.n:ta is refusing to recognize his own state and is disturbed by the fact that his opponent does not see him as he wishes to be seen. He is also not able any more to practice the principle which he himself has been proclaiming all along, namely, that a person of noble nature should see the virtues, not the faults, of others. Instead he once more launches into a nasty round of insults to Salya's people. I will not translate this longer passage. I will address, however, some aspects of its content and form. The basic observation that I am driving at is that there are two independent Madra-blame passages in the reconstituted text. The implications of this fact will be further discussed in the next section. As to the contents, namely, the various kinds of depravity attributed to Salya's people, there is much repetition, but also some new issues are introduced. SaIya's people are said to live in forested areas and to move on untrodden roads (M.Bh. BOR! VIIT.30.24-25) They do not observe purity or proper dietary restrictions in their eating habits. They consume alcoholic beverages, barley, buttermilk, all kinds of meat including beef, but also goats, wild boar, cocks, asses and buffaloes. They drink the milk of sheep, buffalo and asses. They eat garlic. They will even eat from a plate licked by a dog (M.Bh. BOR! VTII.30.15;24;30-32;38-40). They don't seem to observe the parvans, the special days of the lunar month, properly (M.Bh. BOR! VITI.3D.IS). Nor do they observe the proper sacrifices and vratas (M.Bh. BORI VID.30.36). Their women are uncontrolled. For instance~

they hold feasts outside the city in which men and women~ the young and the old,

204 laugh~

sing and dance together. Women get intoxicated on such occasions and go without

c10thing their bodies decorated with wreaths and unguents. They call-out loudly and sing y

wine-songs which sound "like the cries of asses or camels." (M.Bh. BOR! VIII.30.IS). The Madra women are described as both over-sexed and too opulent (perhaps even with large vulvas) and unchaste (scantily dressed~ given to jumping and dancing in public). They are also said to be unrefined (they wear rough wool and hides). It is a linIe odd that their habit of using a triple forehead mark or some kind of triple collirium is mentioned in this negative context (M.Bh. BORI VTII.30.20-22).62 A legend is recounted about how Madra women have become prostitutes. The reason is the curse of a chaste women who was once raped by male inhabitants of the country (M.Bh. BORI VITI.30.58-59). The men are perhaps bandits, or at least given to fighting or violent contesting (M.Bh. BORI VIIL30.25). They mix or exchange their sons (?) (M.Bh. BOR! VIn.30.40). They don't have a proper Van)a system. They mix dharmas. They do not respect the authority of brahmans and the same person among them may be considered a brahman one day and a

lqatriya another. A Madra may even become a barber for a day and later resume his brahman status. In a single family one person may be considered a brahman and the rest may do as they please (M.Bh. BORI VIll.30.50-56). Finally, their very humanity is questionable: ralqasls are reported to feel at home in the area (M.Bh. BOR! VllI.30.2932). The Madras are said to be the offspring of Pisacas (a category of demons), they are said not to be the creation of Prajapati at ail (M.Bh. BORI VIII.30.42-44). Salya seems admirably unperturbed by this additional attack on his native country. He does not even take the trouble to deny the charges. He counter-insults KartJa's country only very briefly (M.Bh. BORI V1TI.30. 83). He does indirectly remind Kan:ta of his own imperfections (M.Bh. BORI VIII.30. 84)9 but immediately abandons this strategy, too and y

62Perhaps trikakudaiijana here refers to something other than the forehead mark, a fonn of face or body painting less acceptable in the eyes of the authors of the passage?

205

instead rejects the very world view according to which some countries are inherently worse or better than others. He thus turns away from ad hominum arguments to detached anthropological observations, and his anthropology is of the type that stresses human commonalties rather than differences. After speaking briefly about universal human nature

(M.Bh. BOR! VIII.3D. 85) he subtly offers KarJ.la a way out of the hostile situation., by suggesting that KarIJa's verbal attack on the Madras was actually nothing but a jest., a form of ridicule, a satire, the playful making fun of another (upahiisa). Such jesting behavior, Salya points out, is found among all peoples. He seems to suggest that if the practice is common to all men then it is understandable and forgivable, but he also interjects a warning to the effect that human jesting behaviors, just like sexual behaviors, range from pleasurable sport to deadly fighting (M.Bh. BORI VIll.30. 86). In sum, Kart}a in Salya's view is skilled in the universal sport of finding fault (vacyam) with others, but like all people, he has forgotten his own faults (M.Bh. BOR! VIII.3D.8?):

The abandonment of the afflicted and the sale of wives and children Prevail among the Ailgas of whom you., KarI).a, are

k.ing~

Bhl~ma told you your own faults when he enumerated the warriors,63

Keep these in mind, and stop your wrath. Don't be angry ... There are brahmans everywhere, KarIJ.a. Everywhere there are lqatriyas And vaiiyas and iiidras, and chaste women faithful to their vows, too.

In each and every place do men sport with [their fellow] men, And tease [each othertl and cut each other up [fighting], and copulate ...

Everywhere, people are good at blaming others But do not know their own faults, or even if they do, they are not ashamed. (M.Bh. BOR! VIll.30. 83-87)

At this the two fall silent, and face the battle.64

63RathatirathasaTJ1khya subparvan M.Bh.. BORI V.165. 64According to some manuscriptst only Duryodhana's intervention brings an end to the arguments.

206

These two passages in which KarIJa insults the Madrakas are very atypical of the

Mahabhiirata. The whole Mahiibharata narrative

tums~

of course, around power conflicts

between alliances of local kingdoms. There is much mention of place names and of names of local kingdoms. There are many geographical descriptions. There is,

however~

relatively little recognition of cultural difference between the different areas. The dominant anthropological theory in the MahQbhQrata is closer to the one expressed by Saly~ namely that "There are brahmans everywhere, KarIJa. Everywhere there are k$atriyas ...

tt

It is

widely recognized in the Mahahharata that different views about the application or interpretation of dharma exist., and that the different va~as have their different

svadharmas. When observed facts don't accord with this model, they are addressed in terms of deviation, in other words, some people are wicked and act contrary to dharma. When a king is wicked this will adversely effect his whole kingdom, but this does not reflect the nature of people in general., since a bad king can always be replaced by a good one. The assumption is that in principle dharma is one. The passages quoted by KarQa in the two Madra-abuse units, a different view of human nature is voiced. Differences are concei ved of as inherent to locality. Their concept of difference comes closer to what we would describe either as local cultural difference, or to (a very different concept of itself) national character. Salya's voice in this passage is strikingly different from his voice throughout the rest of the verbal exchange with KarIJa From KarI).a's point of view, at least, Salya was up to now the provoker of hostilities, so it is strange that he now turns critical commentator on the very cultural phenomenon of verbal provocation. But Salya is a man of many faces~ and his behavior even on this occasion is quite hard to interpret. He himself keeps insisting that he speaks in the name of good sense and truth only.

207

ll.2.2. A Web of Ambiguities. IT.2.2.1. The Wider Maho.bho.rala Context of the Encounter: The SaIya-Ka.n;:ta dialogue takes place shortly before the final encounter between KarIJa and Arjun~ on the second day of Kart}a's generalship. Salya has just agreed to became KarT).a's charioteer, but only after some resistance to the role. K3Il)a requested Salya's special assistance because he felt that the fact that Arjuna had ~lJa as his charioteer put himself at a disadvantage, even though he considered himself to be equal in prowess to Arjuoa. He wanted a charioteer who would be Kr$1)a's equal, and the comparison of Salya to ~Qa reflects KarIJa's high esteem for SaIya (M.Bh. BCRI VIII.22). It was Duryodhana who approached Salya in the matter. Salya initially refused, declaring that he is insulted by the very idea that he, a consecrated king., a ~atriya born of the race of royal sages, should serve as a charioteer to KarlJa, the son of a charioteer (sura). If anything, Kar1)a should be the driver, and he the warrior, Salya said. In fact, he was (or he pretended to be) so humiliated by the offer that he asked to be dismissed from the battle altogether. Duryodhana only managed to convince Salya by double flattery. First, he explained that Salya was required because someone who was the equal of Kr$Qa was required (M.Bh. BORI VIII.23). To fortify this obvious flattery, Duryodhana also told Salya how in days of yore, during the battle between the gods and the counter- gods, the god Brahma had served as Siva's charioteer when Siva had undertaken to destroy the counter-gods' triple city.65 By accepting the charioteer's role. Duryodhana argued~ Salya would be playing the same role with respect to KaI1)a as Brahma played with respect to Siva There can be no humiliation in it

6SM.Bh. BOR! VllI.24.

208

Duryodhana succeeded. Salya accepted the proposition and even expressed his pleasure. He posed one condition, however, namely, that he should be allowed to say whatever he wants to KarQa during the battle. Kan:ta agreed to these terms (M.Bh. BOR!

VllI.24-25). This scene is closely connected with an episode in the Udyoga Parvan. The Udyoga

Parvan (the Book of the Effort) recounts the PiQ~avas' simultaneous efforts both to avoid the breakout of the battIe by negotiation and to build strong alliances so as to ensure victory in case the peace efforts should fail. The Parvan describes how neighboring kings with their armies move to join the side which they intend to support in case hostilities do break out. One of these kings is SaIya, king of Madra. Everyone expects him at fIrSt to be on the P8JJQava side, since his sister, ~adrl, is the second wife of Pru,c;lu and the mother of the two younger Pfu)Qava twins, Sahadeva and NakuJa. Indeed, he does intend to join Yudhi~thira's

forces, but the devious Duryodhana plays a trick on him. He constructs

beautiful rest-houses on the way from Madra to Kuruk~etra and has his men receive Salya in them with great pomp, all the time leading Salya to think that he is being served by Yudhi~thira's men. When Salya finally discovers his mistake, he feels obliged to offer

Duryodhana a boon as a sign of his gratitude, and Duryodhana predictably chooses that Salya should join his side instead of Yudhi~{hira's. Salya, bound by his position as a recipient of hospitality and as one who offered a boon, has no choice but to agree. Since Yudhi~!hira

has been expecting him, however, he feels that first he ought to go to

Yudhi~!hirars

camp and explain the new circumstances. When

Yudhi~thira

is informed of

the new development, he too agrees that Salya had no choice but to join Duryodhana, but asks Salya to at least do him a little favor. Yudhi~thira seems to somehow foresee that in the course of the upcoming battIe, Salya would become Kart:la's charioteer, and asks that when this should happen, Salya should verbally demoralize KarI)a, instead of encouraging

209

him, as a charioteer would normally do. Salya agrees to this plan~ returns to Duryodhana's camp and places himself and all his troops at Duryodhana's service (M.Bh. BORI V.8). Thus~ when Salya makes the condition with Duryodhana that he should be allowed to

say anything he wants in his role as charioteer, Salya is preparing the ground to enable himself to fulfill his promise to

Yudhi~thlra that

he would speak: discouragingly to KarIJa

when he becomes his charioteer. When KarIJa accuses Salya of being an instrument of the PiIJQavas (M.Bh. BOR! VllI.27.95) he is not altogether mistaken. It must be emphasized, however, that once Salya agreed to serve Duryodhan~ he truthfully fulfilled his obligation, and loyally fought on the Kaurava side. On the eighteenth

day, after KaIlJa's death, when the spirits in the Kaurava camp were very low, Salya was even chosen as the fourth and last general to head the Kaurava force. He performed this duty with great dedication and was eventually killed by Yudhi~thira himself (M.Bh. BOR! IX.1-16). The only exception to Salya's spotless performance as a loyal fighter on the Kaurava side is the above scene. This makes Salya into an intriguing Janus-faced figure, an epitome of uprightness who nevertheless on one occasion plays the role of a treacherous double agent. It must also be remembered that Salya was initially put in the position of having a double loyalty because of Duryodhana's devious manipulation of Salya's uprightness.

11.2.2.2. Tricks and Treats: Salya is not the only distinguished person fighting on the Kaurava side who has divided loyalties. In an interesting scene in the Bhl$1Tla Parvan, which takes place just before the annies face each other,

Yudhi~thlra

goes over to the

Kaurava camp and addresses BhI~m~ Drona, Krpa and Salya. Eaeh of them express on that occasion his sympathy for the PiQQava side, despite their obligation to the Kauravas. Each offers to do "anything but fighting" to help the PfuJ.Qavas win. The first three help by giving Yudhi~thira a clue which will eventually enable the Pfu)Qavas to kill them. The

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fourth,. Salya., repeats his earlier promise to discourage KarI}a before he faces Arjuna.66 Thus, the Salya-KarI)a exchange is part of the larger Mahiibharata theme of double loyalties., deceits., and betrayals. K.an)a was weakened by his hostile charioteer, just as BhI~ma and DroQa were slain by a deceit which they made possible.

A whole line of narrative events lead up to each of these treacheries. For instance, the histories of Amba and of Sikhandin prepare the ground for the slaying of BhI~ma. The above mentioned episode in which Yudhi~thira asks BhI~ma how he may be slain and BhI~ma hints at the trick of using a woman is also a necessary part of this chain of events.

Similarly, the above Udyoga Parvan story of how Salya came to fight on the Kaurava side prepares the ground for the KarQa-Salya exchange of the Kan:za Parvan, in which one of the best Kaurava warriors deliberately helps to bring about the fall of KB.I1Ja SaIya, Kat"lJa's charioteer, serves as a kind of foil for KIlQa, Arjuna's charioteer. This is suggested even in our episode when K8.1lJa requests to have SaIya as his charioteer because Salya is n~lJa's equal." In the Udyoga Parvall, Salya's hostile attitude to KarI}a is quite clearly contrasted with ~I].a's exemplary loyalty to Arjuna This contrast is articulated by the following parallels and contrasts. When Arjuna and Duryodhana simultaneously come to visit ~IJa in his capital Dvaraka, Kr$l}a offers Arjuna the choice between his army and his self." Arjuna unhesitatingly chooses that ~IJ.a should be on 11

his side even if that entailed that ~IJ.arS army would be on Duryodhana's side. Duryodhana gladly agrees to these terms because he believes that a whole army is better than a single warrior no matter how brave the single warrior is (M.Bh. BORI V.7). The very next chapter (M.Bh. BORI V.8.) is the scene with which Duryodhana uses deceit to obtain SaIya's allegiance. Clearly a contrast is suggested: Arjuna has Kr~IJ.a·s "self' on his

66M.Bh .BORI VI.41.32-82.

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side, whereas Duryodhana only has Salya's forced, and therefore formal or external, allegiance. A part of Salya's "selr' still belongs to Yudhi~thir~ so to speak. This contrast is even farther emphasized in another Udyoga Parvan set of episodes. Kr~I}.a

goes on a peace mission to the Kaurava camp. Duryodhana attempts to win

~Qars

support by the same tricky means which he used to win Salya's - he constructs guest houses for Kr~Qa along the way to Hastinapura just as he did for Salya. But ~IJ.~ unlike Salya, ignores these friendly-looking traps. When this trick fails, Duryodhana again tries to get ~Qa to eat food in his house and to thereby make him indebted to him. The perceptive ~I].a refuses even this conventional offer of food, and dines at Vidura's more humble house instead (M.Bh. BOR! V .81-91).

~Qa's

sharp discrimination contrasts

here with Salya's we11 intentioned blindness. Salya honestly wants to do the right thing, but is tricked into a dharmic catch so that he cannot do it. The cunning ~IJa, in contrast, would never be tricked into taking the wrong side. The web of ambiguities is spread even further and deeper. Salya, Kar{la's charioteer, has been tricked into his Kaurava allegiance. Kat1}a too is in a sense serving on the wrong side because of his temporary ignorance of who he really is. Kart)a's eyes, though, have been opened to his true birth status early enough to switch allegiance, and he nevertheless made a self-conscious choice to reject the option of crossing over to the Pfu).<;lavas. We have seen that the reasons for KarJ).ats decision were complex, and include strong resentment against his mother and brothers. One of the reasons, however, is surely a sense of indebtedness to Duryodhana. In other words, it is his belief that if you have" eaten the foodl! of someone, or accepted help from someone, you are forever indebted to that person and may not tum against that person on any account. For KarI)~ this principle over-rides even the obligations of kinship. Thus, even before he learned who his real parents were, KarQa has in a sense been Ittricked" by Duryodhana's manipulative generosity into a dharmic "catch 22" very much like the one Salya fell into.

212

Evidently, the ethos of gift-giving and of the loyalties and obligations which are attached to accepting a gift plays a crucial role in the semantics of this scene. KarQa is the gift-giver and gift receiver par excellence. He gave away his divine heritage in a magnanimous act of generosity not once but twice. First, when he freely gave away to the tricky Indra the divine armor and earrings with which he was mysteriously bom and again 7

when he altogether fotfeited his right of birth as the eldest PfuJgava because he felt obliged to Duryodhana Much has been written about the centrality of gift giving in South Asian culture.67 lt is obvious that the semantics of gifts was constitutive of the world view of early Vedic culture. We cannot however assume a simple continuity over time and place in this respect. In the Mahiihharata context which we are exploring the strength of the obligation created by the gift is never put in question, but there is a definite sense that this "fact of life" is problematic. Gifts are very tricky and they can be manipulated in ways which are contrary to dharma. Dealing correctly with the trickiness of gifts is one of the most "subtle" (siik.rma) aspects of dharma. Saly~ himself a victim of gift-tricking, points out to KarI)a that mere magnanimity is wrong. The wise lqatriya should place his gifts only in the right vessel, namely, in a brahman learned in the Veda.

Why do you throwaway so much in vain, like a fool? Because of your delusion You are not aware of the faults of a gift bestowed in the wrong vesseL The riches that you announce with magnanimity could surely be offered

In many kinds of sacrificial rites. Use them to worship, Charioteer! (M.Bh. BORI VIII.27 .20-21) The senlantics of gifts and obligations is here intertwined with that of tricks and deception. People keep falling into traps because of their partial blindness. Knowledge of

67S ee for instance Gonda 1965, 198-228; Fruzzetti 1983; Raheja 1988.

213

things as they are is itself a tricky matter. It is striking that Duryodhan~ of aU

people~

has

some true insights in our episode. When Salya objects that he cannot serve as Karua's charioteer because KarI).a is a low caste sura., Duryodhana observes that KaIlJa's achievements as a warrior are extraordinary; he notes that Kan}a looks "like the sun god himself'; he recalls that KarI}.a was borne with earrings and a special armor. From this he rightly extrapolates that KaIlJa simply could not really have been born a suta. He even speculates that K.a.n}a may have been abandoned as a baby! But Duryodhana's correct insight only serves to trap him even further in his deluded endeavor. The pious divine paradigm evoked by Duryodhan~ the equation of the Salya and KarIJa pair with the Brahma and Siva pair to describe the battle which is about to take place, is topsy turvy. This is an example of "the infinite inscrutability of dharma" (dhannasu/qmatii). While divine parallels are surely appropriate, Duryodhana has ironically chosen the wrong narrative to interpret his own role in the cosmic drama. Unlike him, the audience/reader is quite aware that Arjuna is about to destroy KarI).a just as Indra destroyed V rtra, not KarIJa destroy Arjuna as Siva destroyed the triple city. In other words, Duryodhana has identified himself with the wrong side of the cosmic gods/counter-gods divide. SaIya perceptibly points this out to Duryodhana., but when Duryodhana flatters him, Salya falls, or pretends to fall, into Duryodhana's trap. Salya's sense of outrage at what appears to him a reversal of the social hierarchy again suggests a partial blindness. But then, how blind was Salya? Was he genuinely offended by the suggestion that he should serve as a suta's charioteer? If he expected to become Karr).a's charioteer, since he and Yudhi~thira have agreed on this plan beforehand~ why did he resist the offer at fITSt? If he truly understood ~IJa's divine nature, as BhI~ma, for instance, surely did,68 he could not have been really flattered by Duryodhana's

G8At Yudhi~thira's Rajasiiya Bhl~ma proclaims Kr~IJa's divinity in the face of those who challenge him (M.Bh. BOR! ll.35.6-27); When Kr~IJa attempts to attack Bhl~ma on

214

comparison of himself and KartJa to Brahma and Siv~ or by the equation of himself with ~I)a

It seems then that his preliminary resistance was just a clever way of extracting me

formal permission to say what he likes to KarI}.a. Salya's trickery, however, does not necessarily negate the possibility that he feels genuine pride in what he regards as his superior birth status. In other words, the Mahiibharata (as it often does) offers more then one conceivably independent explanation for Salya's verbal attack on Kan;ta. Does Salya in fact fall into a trap, or is he willingly acting as an instrument of the inevitable? On a certain level, it does not matter, for in the end, both delusions and true insights serve to bring about the fated PiIJQava victory and the terrible destruction that it entails. But it matters terribly from the point of view of KarQa's rage at what he rightly feels is a betrayal. The Kart)Q Parvan scene in which Salya resists the role of charioteer also frames the Karga-Salya relationship in tenns of social status. In an important way, the episode revolves around the ambiguity of KarIJa's va17)a. Kart)a, who is known to everyone as "the

suta" is really not a suta, he is a Iqatriya by birth and moreover, he is semi-divine, the son of the sun god Surya. There is also some ambiguity as to Salya's birth status or rank. Generally in the Mahabharata, Salya's high birth is taken for granted. His excellent birth status was for example one of the grounds for his selection by the Kauravas as general commander after the death of KarIJa (M.Bh. BOR! IX.S.18). But KarQa's subsequent verbal attack on the Madrakas questions this assumption. What kind of kingdom does Salya come from, what kind of kingship does Salya represent? Perhaps the a king of an inferior people is inferior to a sura in a high court? 11.2.2.3. Parallel Interpretations: How could

Yudhi~thira

know in advance, before

the battle even begun, that on the seventeenth day of the battle KarIJ.a would be offered the

the battlefield, BhI~ma welcomes death by ~Qa's divine hand (M.Bh. BOR! VI.55.94-

95).

215

role of charioteer? No explanation for this unusual foresight is offered in the Mahabhiirata. The explanation is, I believe, in tenns of textual history. The Udyoga Parvan story seems to be supplying an explanation for, or at least expanding on~ a textually "given fact," namely, a tradition that Salya served as KarIJa's charioteer and that

he blamed KaIl}a instead of praising him on this occasion. This tradition, though not necessarily the precise text of the episode as we now have i4 must have been welJ established in the Mahahhiirata textual tradition quite early. The Udyoga Parvan episode simply assumes that this was the case. There is no question of changing of the story line, only of weaving more stories around it. The stories woven around a given textual fact may pull the interpretation of this textual fact in different directions, they may even offer contradictory interpretations of this fac4 but there is a solid foundation for their incorporation in the textual tradition, and this is the fact that they are woven around an event or episode which is accepted as given. This dynamic is an essential part of what I mean when I speak of an aesthetic of expansion. Textual expansion is closer to interpretation than to other forms of reception, such as rewriting, since once an element becomes established in the tradition, it can be variously expanded on, but it cannot be removed or replaced. Could the KarIJa-SaIya story as we now have it be the result of the conflation of more than one narrative tradition? Both of these narrative traditions would take for granted that a verbal encounter between the two took place. One of these traditions would be roughly represented by the Udyoga Parvan episode (M.Bh. BOR! V.8). It explains Salya's hostility to KaI"Qa during his last battle as the result of his anger about being tricked by Duryodhana into supporting the wrong side and as planned in advance. The other tradition would be roughly represented by the Kan;.a Parvan's introduction to the Kan:ta-Salya verbal exchange (M.Bh. BOR! VllI.23-25). Here Salya's hostility to KarI)a is explained as the result of his resistance to KarIJa's demand that he, a qatriya, should serve a sura as

216

charioteer. If this hypothesis were correc~ then the Udyoga Parvan episode (M.Bh. BORI

V.S) as well as the KarT)a Parvan episode (M.Bh. BOR! VllI.23-25) should be viewed as different comments on, or interpretations of, the KaTT)a Parvan episode (or the tradition from which it is derived) in which Salya and Kart.la exchange insults shortly before KarI)a faces Arjuna. They would be independently developed explanation to the same given" It

event, explanations which are redundant but not outright incongruent. Even if I were able to prove such a hypothesis I would not want to choose between these two traditions of interpretation. Rather, I submit that the textual practice of including potentially over-determined explanations to a received textual fact is not just typical, but even profoundly definitive of the Mahiibhiirata. It is an important contributing factor to the more general fascination of this textual tradition with ambiguity. II.2.2.4. The Madra-Abuse Units and Textual Heterogeneity: We have seen that simpler praise-and-blame dialogues are an integral part of the conventions of battle scenes. We have also seen that the conventions of these dialogues themselves can easily be manipulated in ways which remove them from this immediate context, for instance by turning them into a reflection on past events which have led to the present situation. The

Salya-KaI1)a dialogue is an extreme example of such generic removal. In fac~ it is a kind of subverted praise-blame exchange, in the sense that Salya is doing the opposite of what he ought to do. When a verbal exchange becomes sufficiently removed from its conventional place in the immediate battle contex~ it becomes an appropriate textual space for incorporating extra-battle discourse, such as legends, philosophical or legal discourses and so forth. We have seen, for example, that the Salya-KarQa dialogue itself contains, besides the Madra-abuse double unit, also a parable about a competition between a crow and a goose (M.Bh. BOR! VIII.28.1-S4). I focus here on the Madra-abuse double unit both because its extra-generic quality is self-consciously addressed by the textual frame in which it is

se~

and because of my interest in the specific thematics which it introduces.

217

When the text has frankly incorporated pre-existing materials it is relatively easy to detect the seams. For instance, certain differences between the two separate rounds of Madra-abuse (M.Bh. BOR! vm.27 .67-9 I and VITI.30) make it quite clear that they have been independently incorporated into our text. Before we attempt to explain what this strange digression is doing in the middle of a battle scene, and why two Madra abuse units have been

incorporated~

let us carefully review the differences between the two

units~

which

I have classified into four categories: a) Differences in the concept of what constitutes being an "outsider" to dharma: The

flCSt unit criticizes primarily the lack of loyalty and the looseness of the women and of family structure among the Madrakas. The second Madra abuse unit is much more specific and detailed as to what the outsiders do. It uses more specifically brahmanic tenni nolo gy , too. In the second unit adhannic behavior is not just a matter of loosely mixing with strangers, but of breaking specific rules of the va17)aJrama system. The first unit mocks the Madrakas for eating specific foods which seem to be considered course or disgusting. The list of foods that is mentioned in the second unit is much more detailed, including such new items as garlic. Failure to properly observe festivals and vratas is also mentioned only in the second unit. b) Difference in degree of streamlining and multivocality: The first part of the first

Madra-abuse passage is a rather streamlined uni~ though some of the verses (such as M.Bh. BOR! vm.79cd-80ab) may have originated as independent sayings. Starting from M.Bh. BOR! VIll.27 .81, the fragments are each neatly framed as quotations and presented

as coming from an independent external source. Most are attributed by Kart).a to some "old brahman," and one fragment (M.Bh. BOR! VIll.27.82-84) is presented as an

"AtharvaIJa spell." The second round of insults is more complex.ly-voiced and more loosely put together. It gives us more infonnation about its sources, but it is less careful to distinguish

218

between them. Sources are embedded within sources. The opening passage (M.Bh. BOR! 30.14-18) is put in the mouth of a witness to the lifestyle of the Madras, an old brahman whom KarI).a claims to have heard reminiscing in Dhrtar~~nl's court about his days among the Bahllkas When he was sent there as a youth with "a task of extreme secrecy" (M.Bh. BOR! VllI.30.7-13). The same old brahman goes on to quote a song which he claims to have heard from a homesick and lovelorn BahJ.ika living in exile among the Kuru-Pandilas. This song, in turn, is presented as quoted by the same old brahman:

That opulent/fat fair maiden dressed in a scant/fme woolen cloth Remembers this Kuru dwelling BahHka as she lies down to sleep; Let me cross the Satadruka and the lovely IravatI Let me go to my homeland and see pretty women with big conch shells/ vulvas! Pale women with forehead marks of flame-red arsenic with triple collirium (?) They leap/play covered in a single hide, a delight to the eyes To the sound of the mrdanga (drum), fulakaSailkhi (conch) and rordaHi (drum) I shall be happy along with the asses camels and mules.

In forests of (tough)

Sami trees, palm trees and (thorny) Kanras, in happy paths,

Gobbling-up wheat cakes and barley balls rich with buttennilk When shall I, on untrodden roads, gather my strength And strike/beat/chum them once more on the battle field/threshing ground

(M.Bh. BORI VIII.30.2D-25) Clearly something about the context suggests that this song is laughable, but why? It may be an offense to Salya to listen to a frankly erotic description of the women of his country when it comes from a hostile outsider - something like saying "your mother's a .... " Beyond that~ the suggestion is that this song unwittingly betrays the simplicity or rusticity of the lifestyle of the singer's people who are part cattle-breeders and part cattleraiders (M.Bh. BOR! VTII.30.19-24). But in fact similar images of rustic life have attained a very high status in early Prakrit and later in Sanskrit court poetry. The child-~I)a

219

literature also comes immediately to mind. Is this an "authentic" simple love song in true Madra style" or is it a mock version of Sanskrit love poetry? The fIrst Madra-abuse unit is not innocent of the existence of mock forms of literature. We have already seen that KaI'Qa himself introduces these Madra abuse materials as sung "in jest" as "mock Vedic recitation" by "the people - women children 7

and old men" (M.Bh. BORI VTII.27.71). While there is no proof that this specific verse is more than some clever scribe's speculative comment about the social origins of the unit as a whole, the comment itself is provocative and suggestive. The Salya-KarQa verbal exchange's digressive positioning in the middle of a battle narrative, the episode's preoccupation with masks and disguises~ the ambiguity of the status of the interlocutors, ail these suggest a camivaIesque quality. This comment, even if it is itself an interpretive observation~ supports such a possible reading. A third passage (M.Bh. BOR! VllI.30.48- 56) is presented as addressed to an artisan by a brahman who stayed in the artisan's house and was pleased with the family's conduct. The Brahman praises the artisan's family and contrasts their dhannic conduct with that of the Bahllkas. The point that is stressed in this little unit is the absence of a VQ17)a structure among the Bahllka. The implication is that an artisan who respects brahman authority, and by implication the va~a system in general, is better than the so-called brahmans among

the BabIlkas who don't even observe van:za separation as it is understood by real brahmans. Here, the fact that the unit is addressed to an artisan is at least as significant as its content. Some far-removed, notoriously infamous brahmans are mocked in the presence of persons of lower status. The last part of the second Madra-abuse unit is clearly a random collection of miscellaneous, vaguely attributed sayings about the Madrakas. It even includes passages that have nothing to do with the Madrakas. These passages seem to be included simply because they classify places or peoples as better and worse in some way. The unit ends

220

with a classification of peoples by degree of intelligence or sophistication. again one which does not flatter SaIya's homeland:

The Magadhas understand hints, the Kosalas know by a (mere) glance, The Kurupandilas (may) be told half (a matter), the Salvas (need) full instruction; The mountain dwellers are just as course as the mountains The Yavanas are omniscient and the 5iiras especially so; The Mlecchas are governed by consent, other peoples are not not-told The Bawlkas are (governed) by force and some Madrakas not (at all). (M.Bh. BORI VIll.30. 79-81 ab) In sum, the second Madra-abuse unit is much less homogeneous in the subject

matter of its passages and much less unified stylistically. c) Difference in the tenninology used to denote places and peoples, and even in the locating of "outsidedness": The difference between the units observed in the above section is true also with respect to the use of names of places and peoples. In the fIrSt Madraabuse unit, the depraved people in question are almost always referred to as Madrakas. The

Gandharas are mentioned once, and the Sindhus and Sauvlras another time. These two deviations (which occur in the less-well-integrated last fragments of the unit) still maintain the geographic definition of the are~ however, since the Sindhus and the Sauvlras occupy the area around the river Sindhu and its tributaries. In the second round of insults, in contrast, the tenn "Madra" is used only a few times (M.Bh. BOR! VTII.30.9; 68; 71; 81). Instead, many other terms are used. By far the most common term is BahIlka69 (M.Bh. BORI VIII.30.9; 13;20;26; 28; 46; 52;52; 56; 57; 73; 81). Five passages identify the place in question as the land between the five tributaries of the Sindhu, in other words, present day Punjab (M.Bh. BORI VIII.30. 10;36;43; 62; 65-66). Two of these passages also offer

69Bahlka or VahIka in some manuscripts.

221

an explanation of the term. One derives it etymologically from bahis, outside - since the Madrakas are outsiders, beyond the pale of dharma (dhannabahya).

Those who dwell between the five tributaries of the Sindhu, Who are excluded (bah4krta) by the Himalayas and ostracized Ctiraslqta) By the GaiJ.g~ the Sarasvau, the Yamuna and Kuru~etr~ Are beyond the pale of dharma. They are impure. They should be avoided. (M.Bh. BOR! VIII.30.10-11)

The other passage (M.Bh. BOR! Vill.30.43-44) offers a legendary-mythic explanation, also based on sound similarities. The Bablikas are said to be the offspring of Bahi and HlIka, a pair of Pisacas who lived on the Vipasa river. The bottom line, however, is the same as that of the other passage: tlThey are not a creation of (the creator god) Prajapati. n In other words, they are outside the realm

~f df- ~ --na.

Three consecutive passages offer a list of peoples that are, in contrast with the Madras, people of dharma. The first of these (M.Bh. BOR! Vill.30.60-61) describes a relatively large area extending far to the East. It enumerates the Kurus, the PaBduas, the Salvas, the Matsyas, the Naimi~as, the Kosalas, the Kasis, the Ailgas, the KaliiIgas, the Magadhas, and the Cedis. The second (M.Bh. BORI VTII.30 62) speaks of the more limited area "from the Matsyas to KurupaiicaIacountry, and from Nairni~a to Cedi (the plain between the Ganga and Yamuni?) as where people live "by the ancient dharma." A third passage offers a hierarchy of svadhannas. The dhanna of the PancaIas and the Kauravas is brahmanic. That of the Matsyas is truth; that of the Siirasenas is sacrifice;

In the East they are dasas, those who are from the South are lowly; The BahIlkas are thieves, the Sur~tras are of mixed caste.

(M.Bh. BOR! VIII.30.73)70

7O'fhis classification according to the quarters of space seems to have attracted another such classification - the Lords of the four quarters (M.Bh.Vill.30.76-77), which really has little to do with the subject of this unit.

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It censures the Arat!aS of the Land of the Five Rivers and goes on to enumerate again the "dharmic" peoples: The PaftdiIas, the Kurus, the

Naimi~as,

the Matsyas the KaIiIigas, y

the Ailgas, the Magadhas (M.Bh. BORI VllI.30.7S). Here again the realm of dharma extends pretty far to the East. Other places and people-names are mentioned in association with the Bahllkas. The five tributaries of the Sindhu are enumerated: SataclruQ., Vipas~ Wvatt Candrabhag~ Vitasta.. The Satadruka river (present day SutIej) is mentioned separately once more (M.Bh. BOR! VITI.30.21). The people of the five rivers are said to be called Arattas

(M.Bh. BORI VIll.30.35-6; 74). The Arattas are elsewhere equated three times with the

Bahllkas (M.Bh. BORI VIll.30.40; VIII.30.43;VITI.30.47-8). The city Sakala (right on the Canclrabhaga river M.Bh. BOR! VIIT.30.14;29) , the river Apaga (M.Rh. BORI VITI.3D 14 where is this river?), the lartika clan (M.Bh. BORI VIll.30.14). In (M.Bh. BORI VllI.30.47) the Sauviras, which are fittingly on the banks of the river Sincihu, are mentioned. A Northern recension passage fittingly mentions Prasthala, which is in Punjab (*391).

So far , the geographic location of the "outsiders" in question remains relatively consistent in the second Madra unit, even if the terms used for peoples and places vary. Some of the verses in this unit are an ex.ception even to this rule, however. Verse VllI.3D.45 suddenly extends the geographical area radically. It mentions the Karaskaras

(in present day Kamataka), the Mahi~akas (either in the Vindhya mountains near ~ahi~matI or in present day Karnataka), the Kalirigas (Present day Orissa), the

Kika~~avins or Klkatas (right next to Magadha), and the Atavlns (? there are lots of MS

variations), the "heroic Karkotakas" (a place by that name is identified in Kashmir of 550-

223

700 C.E., in other words, a little North of the area in question. 71) AIl these various peoples and places are to be avoided according to this verse. Interestingly, the Kaliilgas which are censured in this verse, are in two other verses in the same chapter (M.Bh. BORI VITI.30.61;75) included among the peoples of dharma. The inclusion of the KIka~ is also strange, because Kildita is practically the same place as AIiga, where Kat1).a supposedly rules. Why would Kaqla exclude his own subjects? Clearly, the sources which were drawn on for this second compilation of Madraabuses are much more miscellaneous. They don't even agree as to the identification of the people or area in question. And clearly, very little effort has been made to harmonize or systematize these sources. Nevertheless this unit too has entered the text, and is equally 7

universally represented in the manuscript tradition. This, in my view, is a perfect example of a situation where we have no choice but to assume gradual and de-centered textual expansion even though no manuscript is extant whicn does not contain the unit. We are quite lucky to have spotted these passages, since this textual situation gives us a chance to follow some aspects of the expansion process. d) The Difference in Self Genre-Identification of the Two Units: The second Madraabuse unit ascribes its fragments to various sources, all described as brahmans, and claims that they have been heard in a king's, namely Duryodhana's, court. The first Madra-abuse unit presents its material as songs (gathiis) which at "present" are not sung by brahmans or even by able and serious men. It points out however, that in the past these songs have been sung in respectable circles, not necessarily by brahmans but "in the presence of kings."

The people - women, children and old men, when they feel like jesting Are always singing about the wicked inhabitants of Madra Pretending to be reciting the Veda. Listen to these songs:

71 Karkotaka is the name of a great Naga friend of king Nala, see M.Bh. BORI 11.61.

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These songs have in the past been told properly in the presence of kings.

(M.Bh. BOR! VllI.27. 7 I -72ab) The self presentation of the second round of abuse is less complex. It seems to be innocent of the idea that such blame discourse is appropriate only for the socially inferior. The first round offers a more complex and a more removed genre-description of its materials. It locates these materials as socially inferior to the text in which they are contained, for the MahabhQrata presents itself as the lore of brahmans and kings, not as folk-lore. But it conceptualizes genre not only in teons of a discourse's social location. It also presents an interesting (though relatively undeveloped) literary-history theory. According to this theory, the social location of discourses may change over time. What is now, when KarQa speaks, or more probably in the present of the author(s) of this unit, low-status, mock-Vedic discourse,72 in the past was fit to be uttered in the presence of kings. Interestingly, the second and less sophisticated Madra-abuse unit describes the

present social context of such abuses as what the first round claims used to be such abuses' past social context. From this rather complicated analysis we may conclude not only that the two different Madra-abuse units are expansions, but that they found their way independently into the textual tradition. From the point of view of the first unit that offers a theory of the social degradation of such discourse, the second unit may be viewed as a relic of an earlier period. It may not be that simple. The second unit may have come from a different circle or tradition., one in which the a practice of blaming the way of life of specific peoples is not considered inappropriate for brahmans. Again, it is important to observe also that the

KaT7)a Parvan text as it had come down to us has included both passages at close textual proximity, ignoring or at any rate not attempting to straighten out the contradiction arising

72Suggesting an association with what Bakhtin might call the culture of the marketplace or the camivalesque (the term is not actually used, of course).

225

from their different introductory comments. The manuscript tradition also shows no indication that either one of the passages is less universally accepted. Thus, within the span of a few chapters we have two different positions both about who is an outsider to the

dharmic society, and about issues of textual boundaries. The differences basically remain unresol ved.

Let us sum up now this examination of the two Madra-abuse units. We have found four kinds of differences between the units: a) While both units address the issue of groups of people who do not fit a certain standard of dharma, and who are thus outsiders, they differ on what constitutes being an II

If

"outsider." The first unit identifies it primarily with lack of loyalty and with the looseness of women and of family structure. The second uses more specifically brahmanic tenninology in its depiction of deviation. b) The frrst unit is much more streamlined and integrated. The second unit is a looser collection of heterogeneous sayings about the topic more loosely defined. c) The first unit used the tenn Madraka consistently, while the terms for places and peoples vary in the second unit. Furthermore, the location of "outsidedness" has not only shifted but become diffuse. The outsiders in the first Madra abuse unit are a specific group defined by the area which they inhabit. In the second unit they are a much more abstract category of ail kinds of peoples who are considered outsiders to dharma. These three differences lead us to suspect that both units have entered the text as expansions even though they are not missing in any extant manuscript. The suspicion is strengthened by the last difference: d) The two rounds of Madra-abuse offer a different genre-identification of their own materials and differ in their degree of multivocality. The frrst, more streamlined unit~ is prefaced by a literary-history theory ~ according to which the social context of the lore it is about to introduce has changed over time. At the (passage's) present this lore belongs to something like folk culture, and its perfonnance-context suggests something like what

226

Bakhtin would have tenned a camivalesque moody if not a carnival-like instituted festival.

In the past, however, such stories were told in the presence of kings. The second~ less stream-lined uni 4 presents its materials in what the fIrst unit would perhaps see as a predegradation contex4 except that here the stories are explicitly attributed to brahmans who 7

are said to recount them in the presence of kings. The frrst unity unlike the second, seems vaguely apologetic, concerned to justify the introduction of what it deems inappropriately low discourse into a high brahman text The explanation is the narrative of degradation over time which it offers. Thus we find a pretty striking level of awareness not only of the fact that there are 7

different versions of saying the same thing, but also of genre and of the processes of genre transformation, within our text. Now we can attempt to tackle the more difficult questions. First, why are such materials incorporated in the Mahabharata at ail? What do the customs of some group dwelling in the remote North West and called lithe Madrakas" matter and why are they 7

introduced in the middle of a battle narrative? Second, is the incorporation of two units only an example of the tendency to inflate the text indiscriminately, or can some other logic be detected here?

First to the first question. The banal answer, that the Mahiibharata has everything in the world in it, is of course not true. The world of the Mahabharata excludes a great deal of things. Rather, these units touch on the wider thematics of the Mahabharata, namely, the question of what is in and what is out. The Mahiihharata is the story of a family feud, and more broadly, it revolves around issues of group identity. The flip side of identity is difference: difference between subgroups and within the group, and conflicts which shape groups. The notion of a multiplicity of kingdoms, which are conceived of as located in different places, and as related either by conflict or by alliance, is taken for granted in the Mahabharata. The dominant view in the Mahiibharata, however, is that all such local

227

kingdoms are part of a single order, dhanna. What is unusual about the Madra abuse units is that a different way of thinking about social confiic4 a way of thinking which must have been around at the time of the composition of these units but which the Mahabhiirata generally ignores or excludes, is allowed to creep in. Kama's attack on Salya's people introduces the theoretical possibility of unresolvable local differences in customs, ways of life, social fonns. In fac4 these units are a collection of fragments of discourse which introduce something like cultural relativism. Not only are there people who follow dhanna

and people who don't. There are also different ideas in different places about what dharma is, and what's more, some peoples are so different that they have nothing to do with

dharma at all. As we noteeL the first Madra-abuse unit seems to be aware of the abnonnality of these passages within the Mahabharata universe of discourse and feels the need to theorize about the source of these discourses. The explanation that it offers is quite fascinating. It tells us that a long time ago, certain ways of talking were acceptable "in the presence of kings" but now they have been marginalized and are found only amongst simple folk of little influence (women, children and old men). One talks that way only in mocking, in situations which are strikingly similar to what Bakhtin describes as carnivals. More specifically, it identifies this kind of discourse as a fonn of mocking the Veda. This,

I believe, is extremely important. The Madra abuse unit is a generic relative of the verbal duel 7and an even closer kin of ludic flyting. It may have been a custom in some circles and on certain occasions to playfully compete in insulting each other's place. Such ludic public debates have been described from late 19th century Spain. 73 While the Spanish exchange described by Fernandez is not quite as bawdY7 the similarities are quite striking7from insults to the women of the other side to ridiculing of eating habits. While Salya does not allow himself

73Femandez 1988

228

to be sufficiently drawn into insulting KaII}.a's country to turn this part of the exchange into a full fledged competition in insulting one anther's place of origin Salya does recognize that 9

such mutual mocking is a common practice. Clearly he feels that this is what KarQa is trying to tempt him to do. If I am correct in assuming that to compete in insulting each others place of origin is another variety of ludic flyting, and if my reading of the SaIyaKanJa exchange as a kind of comic interlude with carnivaIesque overtones is correct, than we are on the way to understanding not why the Madra abuse episode had to be incorporated here (this is too much to ask) but why it was felt to naturally belong in this context. The context of one form of ludic fIyting has attractecL or was felt to be appropriate for the incorporation of another type of ludic flyting. Making fun of the Bahllka, the generic other, may make sense here. Everything that has been said about them consistently suggests that the term has come to denote a rather simple society subsisting on herding and perhaps cattle-raiding, a society that does not have artisans among them, and certainly not hereditary artisan jatis. Anyone among them can serve as a priest. If such a society existed at the time of the incorporation of these units in the Kan:za Parvan, which is the product of a more settled and highly differentiated society, it is not surprising that those who incorporated these units looked askance at it. but one does not really need to assume that this collection of representations of such herding tribes refers to a specific society. they probably are something in between a historical representation of societies that existed and stereotypes. We are dealing with a certain representation of a cultural other. But one still has to wonder about the role of the Madrakas, of all peoples, in this stereotype. Why the Madrakas? Here I feel that I am treading on much less solid ground. I suspect that the answer lies in the problematic role within the Mahabharata of agonistic ritual practices, which in the Mahabharata are associated with what from the point of view of its authors seemed

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like great antiquity. The quintessentialnoutsiders" are imagined as located in the area which was the nearly cradle" of Vedic culture. This is peculiar. The life style attributed to the Bawikas is perhaps not very different from that of the peoples who produced the earliest authoritative text of brahmanic tradition. But surely, the authors or incorporators of these passages were not Vedic scholars? These passages may simply reflect a sense that some people had that the sort of agonistic encounters described in the ~gveda are not acceptable in what they knew as civilized society. In other words, I think the statement of the fust Madra abuse unit that this is satirical discourse directed at the Veda is probably correct. The historian D. D. Kosambi seems to have relied on this and similar Mahabharata passages for his reconstruction of social changes which came about around the time of the formation of the Mahabhana as some areas moved faster than others from a pastoral to an agrarian economy_ He points out that "Vedic sacrifice and constant fighting may have suited the former, but would have become a costly, intolerable nuisance for the latter.

II

Madra, Gandhara and Kamboja were "frontier areas" on whose inhabitants the easterners looked "as barbarous." If Madra society is or stands for such a tribal herding society, than SaIya is a chief of such a tribe of nomadic herdsmen.74 But these so called "frontier" tribes are really not at all in the front - in

fac~

they are in the rear of the spread of Vedic

culture, and this is why they are more old fashioned in certain ways. They maintain residual cultural forms which have become marginalized or completely suppressed in the centers which rose to prominence later and further to the east, around where KarT).a rules. The crucial point is that the Mahiibharata is inconsistent in its assessment of societies such as the Madras. It of course holds in great reverence Vedic themes and lore. Some parts of the Mahabhiirata, for instance, the cattle raid episode of the Virafa Parvan,

74Kosambi 117-120; also 145-146. (he does not specify his sources).

230

depict the Mahabharata's main heroes as belonging to precisely that kind of nomadic herding environment, and associate such behavior with no negative stigma. The disjunction between the negative image of the BahI1kas projected by KarQa's Madra-abuse speeches and the general respect with which Salya and his people are treated elsewhere in the Mahabharata is striking. A similar ambiguity, perhaps an outright contradiction pervades the Mahahharata with respect to customs such as ritual gambling and social behaviors such as free movement of individuals between the roles of warrior and priest. These customs do not fit in comfortably with important aspects of the brahmanic systematic law (dharm.a.fQstra), but they are not only features of the more "mythic" part of the narrative such as the Brhaspati-Sarpvana episode of the Aivamedhika Parvan with which we shall deal in Chapter Three, but are constitutive of the main story, which abounds in highly respectable priestly warriors like Drol)a. We shall see in Chapter Three that such practices are similar to those ascribed by Heesterman and others to a hypothetical pre-classical Vedic society. But the "Bahllka" is a cultural construct fabricated much later, certainly after the supposed shift to "classical" brahmanism, and before the advent of Vedic scholarship and its historical constructions of Vedic culture. What we are dealing with here, I suspect, is a cultural construct which conflates the behavior of certain groups which have not been integrated into the emerging Hindu social order and remained marginalized with certain notions of archaism derived from Vedic literature. The shiftiness of this construction is striking. In the first Madraabuse unit it is located in the remote North- East. In the second unit the location of the outsiders is less consistent, more diffused. We shall see that elsewhere in the Mahabhiirata related constructs are associated not with remote geographical location but

with notions of antiquity. Whether the people inhabiting the region of the five-rivers really fit this description at any point of time, and if so, when that time was, is, I think, not the main point. The important thing is the constant attempt at distancing in tenus of space,

231

time and social location of the discourse about such societies, which are the cultural other

par excellence of the Mahabharara, and at the same time disturbingly close to Vedic myths and social patterns to which the Mahabharata is deeply connected.

ll.3. Killing with Words: Arjuna's and

Yudhi~thira's

Exchange of

Insults and Praises (M.Bh. BOR! VIII.4S-49).

IT. 3 .1. Mock Fratricide It is a little later on the same day of the battle. We are now on the Kaurava side. Yudhi~thira has just been seriously wounded by KarlJa, and only BhIma's swift and

effective intervention has saved his life. The wounded king is forced to retreat in pain, and the humiliation is even worse because to save his own life he has had to abandon his brother BhIma alone on the battlefield. The wounded Yudhi~thira is reclining on Draupadl's couch in a protected spot away from the raging battle. At this poin4 Arjuna and Kr~Qa decide to go and pay him a sick visit. When the unhappy king sees the pair approaching at a distance, he imagines at first that Arjuna is coming to report that he has succeeded in slaying KarIJa. Why else would the two leave the battlefield at such a crucial point of the battle? He is greatly moved, and without bothering to ascertain that KarIJa is really dead he speaks at length about his recent humiliation at KarIJa's hands, about KarI)a's prowess and about all his past offenses, asking Arjuna again and again "Tell me, have you slain Kart)a? Tell me how you did it ... " (M.Bh. BOR! VTII.45). The situation echoes the standard War Book introduction in which the incapacitated king Dhrtar~tra asks Saiijaya who has come from the battle with the report of a hero's death to tell him how that hero has died. Here, however, there is nothing to tell.,

232

which makes the situation not only sad.. but comic It takes quite a while before AIjuna can get a word in and explain that. in fact, KaIlJa has not yet been slain (M .B1l. BORI VTII.46). In his disappointment,

Yudhi~thlra

flies into a rage. He reminds Arjuna of a promise

made long ago in the Dvaitavana fores~ namely, that Arjuna himself should slay KarQa from a single warrior car. 75 He bitterly declares that Arjuna has not fulfilled this promise. He charges that Arjuna has failed him and the rest of the Pfu:tejavas by encouraging them to enter into a conflict and then letting them down just when they most counted on his help. He get very excited. He insultingly suggests that Arjuna has simply fled the battlefield out of fear. realizing his impotence against Ka.rt).a. He even contends that Aljuna is guilty of abandoning the surrounded and endangered Bhlma Yudhi~thira

is really getting carried away now. He goes on to compare Arjuna's birth

to an abonive conception. The prophecy which was pronounced at Arjuna's birth. namely. that Arjuna should become a slayer of all his foes. has proven false. because even though Arjuna has slain many foes - and at this point

Yudhi~thira quite

generously enumerates

Arjuna's past heroic feats - he has failed to slay Kan:ta. the only one that really counts. With such a celestial chariot, with divine weapons and with Kpjl).a for a driver, why has Arjuna fled from battle? Arjuna would have done better to give his divine bow. the GaQ.Qiva. to someone more competent then himself, like

Kr~Qa...

(M.Bh. BORI Vffi.4S).

Arjuna listens to all these insults silently and patiently, perhaps even indifferently, but at the suggestion that he should have given the

G~Qiva

sword and prepares to slay his older brother. To explains that he is obliged to kill

Yudhi~thira

to another, he suddenly draws his

~IJ.a's

concerned

inquiry~

Arjuna

because long ago he has taken a vow that he

should immediately slay whomsoever tells him to give the Gfu)giva to another. Or is there a way

out~

Arjuna hesitatingly asks his wise friend. (M.Bh. BORI Vill.49.1-13).

7SM.Bh.BORI Ill.

233 ~IJa

never fails to give good advice. Even as the wounded

Yudhi~thira

and with Arjuna standing there with his sword drawn, ready to slay his

is listening.

brotheT~

Kr$l)a

delivers a lengthy discourse on the subtleties of truthfulness. Under certain circumstances, Kr~l)a explains,

to utter an untruth (an[1a) is the truthful (satyam) thing to do (M.Bh.

BOR! VIn.49.14-56). He embellishes this point with two parables into which we will not enter. It is worth

noting~

however, that these two, and the parable of the crow and the

goose of the Salya-KarQa exchange, are the only three parables in the Kan;za Parvan. This supports my general contention that the two verbal-duel units are related generic developments within the Mahabharata tradition. Kr~l)a's

lengthy sermon seems to soften Arjuna a bit, and he seems less eager to kill

his brother, but he still cannot give up the idea that be should fulfill his vow (M.Bh. BORl Vill.49.57-63).

~I)a

apologizes and even defends

Yudhi~thira's

behavior and points to a

way out of the dharmic fix in which Atjuna has found himself. He suggest that AIjuna can both fulfill the vow which obliges him to kill Yudhi~thira, and let Yudhi~thira live:

You have always honored the king; So have Bhlma and the twins~ And the elders, and the most heroic men of respectable society. Resort to insulting him in some trifle matter (now)! Say "you" instead of "his honor" to

Yudhi~thira,

Partha!

For when addressed in the familiar person, a superior is killed; Conduct yourself in this way towards King Dhanna,

In this way undertake what is tainted with adhanna;

AIjun~

134

This irun proclaimed by Atharvan and Aftgiras,76 is the highest of irutis, He who desires the highest good must always act thus unhesitatingly! Once you know, Son of Pag4u, That King Dhanna is dead ... (1) Then, saluting Partha's feet, comfort him, Speak pacifyingly to him.

Your brother is wise. The royal son of PfuJc;lu Will not be angry at all. And you, Partha, released of both untruth and fratricide Shall happily (go on to) kill KarQa, the charioteer's son!

(M.Bh. BOR! VITI.49.66-71)

In other words, Kr$l)a proposes to substitute "killing with words" for killing with a sword. AIjuna accepts this tricky solution, and immediately undertakes to speak harshly to Yudhi$pura. He does so, r note, with a zeal that is somewhat alarming;

King, don't you speak among speakers, You're not even half within earshot from battle, Only Bhlma is worthy of reproaching me, He who (actually) fights, that most heroic of soldiers! (M.Bh. BORI VIll.49.73)

He enumerates BhIma's battle feats at length and contrasts Bhima's valor with Yudhi$!hira's constant need of protection: "He, Bhlmasena, is worthy of reproaching me, not you, who are always protected by your friends!" (M.Bh. BORI vm.49.74-S0). Arjuna shows himself to be quite competent in the art of insulting:

76In other words, the Atharvaveda. Atharvangirasal:l is the oldest name of "the

fourth Veda." See Gonda 1975,267.

235

In speech lies the strength of good brahmans,

But strength of anTIS is appropriate to /qatriyas, say the wise. You, Bharata, are strong in words, and cruel't too't And surely you know me as I am: I always strive to do your will

With my wi ves't with my sons - indeed't with my very life; And you strike me thus with the blunt arrows of speech... It's because of you that we know no happiness ~ Lying on DraupadI's bed77 you insult me, And I am to kill great warriors for your sake? Therefore,

Bhara~

you are over-suspicious and cruel,

It's because of you that we know no happiness! (M.Bh. BORI VIIT.49.81-83)

He goes on to recount the heroism of heroes who relinquished their lives for the (he now suggests't unworthy) cause of saving

Yudhi~thlra's

life and kingdom. For instance:

It was for your sake't King, that BhI~m~ who was true to his vow,

Revealed the means by which he may be killed; And the brave son of Drupada, Sikhandin, Under my own protection, killed him. (M.Bh. BOR! VIIT.49.84)

And now comes the worst insult: Nor do I applaud your kingship, Because you are attached to the evil of dice. Having committed that evil in which low people indulge

nDraupadl is the common wife of the five Pru.tgava brothers. Arjuna was the one who won DraupadI in a bridal self-choice (svayarpvara) tournament but the brothers ended up sharing her in a polyandrous marriage arrangement. Usually there is little suggestion of jealousy among the brothers, but this is an exception.

236

You wish to use us to cross this ocean of enemies. Sahadeva told you. You heard of those Many unlawful faults found in dicing. You didn't want to cross those ([aults)7 which good-for-nothings love. This is why we have all attained hell! Gambler! You have destroyed the kingdom7 Our plight is your doing. Do not rage again and again at unfortunate ones

9

Do not strike us with the cruel blows of words! (M.Bh. BOR! vm.49.85-87)

One of the ironies is

tha~

according to his own distinction Atjuna is now acting like 7

a brahman and not like a /qatriya, for he is "killing with words" instead of using arms. It is strange that gambling is presented in this passage as such an unequivocally evil thing. The Mahabharata is of more than one mind regarding gambling, and in particular, regarding

Yudhi~thira's

gambling at the sabha. In the Sabha Parvan, the assumption is

that Yudhi~thira was tricked into a situation which left him no honorable choice but to play, much as Salya was tricked into joining Yudhi~thira's side by accepting Duryodhana's food. As soon as Arjuna finishes doing to his brother what he does not like his brother to do to him, he feels remorse. To atone for this act of "fratricide" he raises his sword again, this time with the intention of slaying himself. This second potential calamity is again averted by the ever-wise

Parth~

~I}.~

who suggests a solution along the same lines as before:

Speak the virtues of your own present self,

In this way instant [suicide is committed?] in this world! (M.Bh. BORI VIll.49.9Icd)

Arjuna again has no qualms about this alternative method of self immolation 7 and proceeds to address himself to

Yudhi~thira:

237

But for the bow-wielding, trident-bearing (god) Siv~ There is no archer like me, King! For that Great-Soul has approved of me.

r can instantly destroy this world with its live and stationary beings. It was me who subjugated to you the quarters of space With their presiding deities, your honor! Your honor's royal consecration rite with its ample gifts And the celestial assembly hall have been obtained by my might. On both my hands these shaft-marks are engraved And a stringed bow with a stretched arrow; On both my fee~ chariots with banners; No man conquers one such as me in battle! Northerners have been slain, Westerners killed, Easterners destroyed, Southerners slaughtered;

Of the Sarpsaptakas but nothing remains!

HaIf of ail the force has been slain by me. The Bharata host, which is like the host of the gods Lies slain by me, King! It is Only because I will not strike at the unskilled in anns with weapons, That I have not reduced the world to ashes! (M.Bh. BORI vm.49.93-97)

Now that Arjuna has completed his flverbal suicide," he can throw himself at the Icing's feet:

Know this, King! Either Radha is about to loose a child By KaI'Qa's death, or else KuntJ, by being deprived of myself. Forgive, King, and bear with what I have said In time you shall find out ... I salute you, Sir! (M.Bh. BORI vm.49.98cf)

238

And standing up, continues in a conciliatory tone: With all my soul I go to relieve BhIma from battIe And to slay the sura's son, For my life is to do your wish This I tell you truly. Understand it, King!

(M.Bh. BORI VIll.49 .99cd-1 OOab) The crisis may seem now to be on the verge of resolution~ but the Yudhi~thlra

hyper~sensitive

doesn't cooperate. He insists on taking Atjuna's insults seriously, and so he

rises from his bed:

I have acted wrongfully For which you have fallen into a terrible calamity, So chop off now this head of mine...

I am the basest of men, the ruin of my clan! I am wicked, full of wicked vices,

My mind is confused, I am weak, I am cowardly!

I offend my elders, I am cruel, I am unkind! Why should you have served me so long?

I go now to the forest, wicked as I am. May you fair well without me~ That great soul, Bhlma, is capable of ruling. What has a eunuch like me to do with kingship? And you are full of wrath. I can't bear Your harsh words any more. Let BhIma become king while I am alive. Hero, rYe been humiliated. What's the use of me now?

(M.Bh. BORI VIII.49.1 02-1 05) Once again, Kr~l).a comes to the rescue. He prostrates himself before the king, and explains about Arjuna's old vow. He takes part of the blame on himself and admits that he

239

was the one who advised Arjuna to "kill Yudhi~thira

Yudhi~thira

with words." He also promises

that "today the earth shall drink the blood of Kat1:)a."

The conflict is finally really resolved. Verbal killing has been successfully substituted for actual killing. ~IJ.a and

Yudhi~thira

gives up his intention to die or even to renounce. He raises

thanks him for having saved both himself and his brother from a terrible sin.

His language waxes devotional:

With the raft of your wisdom we and our companions have crossed An ocean of sorrow and grief. In you, Acyuta, we have a protector.

(M.Bh. BOR! VIII.49.116) The brothers embrace and are reconciled.

n.3.2. Interlude and Frame ll.3.2.1. A Comic Interlude: We know already that lengthy interruptions of the flow of the events in a moment of high suspense are quite possible in the Mahiibharata - the Bhiigavadg[tii is one famous example of such an interruption. The Salya-K3.IlJa exchange

is another, less well known example. Here too we have a digression, even in the literal sense of the word, since the heroes move away from the scene of the main events of the Parvan, the field of battle, to a quiet spot and to a private situation. Like the Salya-KarQa exchange, this digressive dialogue is made up of praises and blames.

Yudhi~thira

blames KarIJ.a and praises Arjuna, AIjuna blames

Yudhi~thira,

Arjuna praises himself, and Yudhi~thira blames himself. Unlike the Bhagavadglriiy and perhaps somewhat like the Salya-KarIJa exchange the y

overall tone of this scene is comic. It is no doubt a comic interlude. The whole scene is set in motion by an error, a misunderstanding - it flows from

Yudhi~thirats

disappointment at

realizing that KarQa in fact has not been slain as he first supposed. An error keeps it moving.

Yudhi~thira

decides to kill himself because he takes seriously insults that were

240

uttered without their apparent intent. Everything that is said in this exchange is somehow off the mark. Firs~ Yudhi~thira lauds Arjuna at great length for a feat which Aljuna has not yet performed.

Second~ Arjun~

(supposedly) does not mean a word of what he says.

He is uttering his part only as a formal and verbal substitute to an act - the act of killing Yudhi~thlra.

Neither does he want to perfonn that act. He is not angry. He simply feels

that he is fonnally obliged to do so by an oath which he has taken long ago. The verbal abuse is only a show of hostility, it is actually not hostile, because he is performing it with the intention of saving his brother's life. Similarly, when he boasts, Atjuna isn't boasting in earnest, he is really punishing himself for his act of fraternal disrespect. And what about Yudhi~thira's

request that Arjuna should behead him, and his declaration that he is about to

go to the forest, to renounce the kingdom? Well, the very fact that he asks to be beheaded and makes plans to retreat to the forest in one and the same breath casts a doubt over the "seriousness" of these declarations, too. And

Yudhi~thira's

insistance that he must commit

suicide because he has been humiliated privately by his brother seems strange in the light of the fact that when his wife was publicly molested he did not chose suicide. The advice offered by

Kr~I)a

is even more tantalizing. He teaches Arjuna that to kill

an older brother (Yudhi~!hira) is a terrible offense, and minutes later he cheerfully urges that same Arjuna to go right on and kill KarI).a, who, he himself knows well, is also Arjuna's eldest brother. And what does

~Qa

mean when he claims that "to praise one's self is equivalent to

killing one's self'? He surely does not mean it categorically. We have seen that the Ka17)a Parvan is replete with. indeed, often celebrates, the rhetoric of heroic self-praise. We have

just looked at the ample boasting with which the same Arjuna will very soon work his spirit up to fight Kart)a (M.Bh. BOR! VIII.52). Surely, the condemnation of boasting here is in jest or rather, like every good joke, half in jest. y

241

Nothing is what it seems in this scene. Not surprisingly, Kr~IJa's speech is exactly about those subtle dhannic situations when telling an untruth is really the truthful thing to do and vice versa And again, does

Kr~J}.a

really .t mean" that sometimes speaking an

unbUth can actually be truthful? It is striking that now, after so many good people have died, ~IJa should decide to reveal this profound Itsecret,u78 namely that there are easy ways of getting around legal binds. Why did Kn;l).a not teach the same secret after the gambling match, for instance? There might have been a way of nominally getting out of the thirteen years of exile. The PiI)Qavas and the Kauravas did not talk their way out of the approaching war,79 and are not about to do so in the future, either. When this comic interlude will be over, and the "real" Mahabhiirata plot with its cruel logic will resume, Kr~IJ.a

will unhesitatingly continue to lead nearly all of the /qatriya race into destruction.

~IJa

is not serious here. One cannot but think here of Kr~IJa-Vi~IJu 's trickster character in

this context. Words in this exchange cannot be simply taken at their face value, yet they are not so absurd that they do not carry any force of truth. A very important example is AIjuna's accusation that Yudhi~thira is nothing but a gambler, and the negative valorization of gambling that goes with it. So many of the ambiguities of the Mahabharata may ultimately be reduced to the question: should Yudhi$thira have played-along with Sakuni and Duryodhana's invitation to ga..1!lble, and were the results of the game legally binding? Because of the parodic tone of Arjuna's verbal attack on

Yudhi~thira,

it becomes possible

to give voice to a subversive, but in its own way quite reasonable~ reading of the

Mahabharata. Very bluntly put, this reading would be that gambling is bad, that it is an

78He actually introduces his teaching as a "secret" one, dharmarahasya (M.Bh. BORI VDI.49.25). Taking into account the context, I believe that there must be a playful, probably parodic element to this presentation to, but I cannot precisely identify it. 79The whole of the Udyoga Parvan demonstrates the impossibility of doing so!

242

indulgence that kings should avoid~ that the Pru,gavas should not have gone into exile at all, that the whole course of the Mahabharata narrative was wrong. I would further argue that gambling serves here as a code word for the agonistic world view in which the

Mahabharata protagonists are all trapped.

n.3.2.2. A Meta-Level afthe Narrative: While there is no doubt that this exchange is funny~ to dub it "a comic interlude" does not go far enough toward explaining its presence in the text. The over-invoked notion of comic relief will certainly not do. Why is there a need for comic relief at all? Why here, rather than at some other point in this gigantic text? Why does it take this specific form and not another fonn?

As in the previous

chapter~

the answer must be in tenns of genre. This is one more

variation on the heroic verbal duel, again, as in the case of the Salya-Ka.rt).a exchange~ a ludic variation. It is striking that like the SaIya-KarQa verbal exchange, this episode contains legends and stories which are even more removed from the battle narrative of which the bulk of the Parvan consists. This suggests that we are dealing with something like an expansion again. Not a foreign textual body that was somehow tacked onto the otherwise consistently heroic discourse of the KaT1')a Parvan, but a unit which belongs to a different level of the

text~

the meta-narrative. This is not to say that it is not an integral

growth. The manuscript evidence is that the episode is well attested in all the manuscripts. The fact that the episode has attracted an unusually large number of expansions in all branches of the manuscript tradition

shows~

if anything, that it did not lose its fascination

over time. Just as in the case of the Salya-Ka.rI).a exchange~ we must assume that at that determinative stage of the Sanskrit Mahabharatds textual fonnation with which we are dealing, this episode was well established in the tradition. For what it is worth, it is interesting to mention that the Parvasarpgraha's rather succinct description of the contents of the K.an)a Parvan refers to the battle content of the Parvan with the brief mention of Kaqta's killing, but takes care to mention liThe abusive discussion of KarQa and Salya at

243

the marching out~ and the story of the swan and the crow with an insulting moral. The anger that flares up between Yudhi~thira and Arjuna."80

By what kind of textual logic was it established in the tradition? We have already commented on the reflexive function of even the more simple among the praise and blame exchanges. This effect is achieved any time a hero's past exploits are enumerated, but it is even more so when for instance~ Bhima (and the audience with him) are made to reflect that Dul)Sasana is a major accomplice in the molestation of Draupadl~ and that BhIma has vowed to drink his blood. On such an occasion~ the simple description of a pair of heroes hurling weapons at each other is transfonned into an encounter between specific characters who stand for something important in the Mahlibhiirata world. In this basic sense, these exchanges function somewhat like the frame. They help connect otherwise loosely connected textual units. The praise and blame exchanges force us to reflect on the general Mahabharata context of what is going on at a specific point in the action. In this sense, they are also extremely serious, even when their tone is comic. This is why it is not surprising that the mock-blame which Arjuna directs at Yudhi~thira is in fact not wholly devoid of truth. Another important function of the Praise- Blame exchanges is to articulate ambiguities. The most striking example is when Arjuna calls

Yudhi~thira

a gambler who brought ruin

on his family ~ which we have just dealt with. The assumption in the Sabha Parvan and elsewhere is that

Yudhi~thlra

is not to be condemned for the choices he has made, because

he was trapped in a dharmic "catch 22." Nevertheless, he is never ultimately exhonerated~ either. The question which DraupacH poses to the assembly is never ultimately resolved. The pragmatic position that

Kr~Qa

expresses in his discourse on truth and untruth

problematizes the very ethos without which the heroic Mahabharata narrative would be inconceivable. For instance, could not the same moral-pragmatic approach have been

aOM.Bh. BOR! I 2.170-171.

244

applied at the moment when

Yudhi~thira

was invited to play dice? Some good trick could

have been devised. But Yudhi~thira is throughout the Mahiibharata called Dharmaraja precisely because of his single-minded adherence to the letter of his word and to the very form of honorable obligation. This is the same man who was willing to go into thirteen years of exile in order to not break his word even when he knew that he had been tricked into a losing position. This is the same man who was even willing to gamble away his beloved and chaste wife into slavery in order to not betray the warriors' code of honor that if one is challenged to a gamble one must accept. And clearly.,

Yudhi~thlra has

been

following the same notion of truthfulness which now causes AIjuna to think that he is obliged to kill his brother in fulfIllment of some silly childhood vow. In fact, Arjuna's absurd initial rigidity is a parody, a reduction to a point of absurdity, of Yudhi~Ptira's famous truthfulness, which is idealized throughout most of the epic.

Yudhi~thira

too is in

this episode a caricature of his usual self. This peace-loving but morally very frrm individual is here portrayed as a wimp. In contrast with his heroic and somewhat dogmatic brother, who thinks nothing both of killing his older brother and of killing himself, Yudhi~thlra

does not have the courage to commit suicide and asks his brother to do the

work for him. If this is not pathetic enough, before he finishes the sentence, he changes his mind about the whole thing. The same man whose persistent, nay, stubborn moral questioning will sustain the endless Santi Parvan's teachings, seems here to be unable to sustain the heroic-tragic stance of determining to die for more than a minute. With the suggestion that verbal tricks can substitute for real life violence, a possible happy ending to the Mahabharata story, the tale of fratricide par excellence, is contemplated. Instead of brother killing brother, couldn't they just get away with some talk-killings? Right after this interlude, however, Arjuna will go on to kill his older brother KarI)a and ail the gruesome chain of events will follow its course to the end.

245

The heroic praise-blame rhetoric has been so freel y manipulated here~ it is so far removed from its simple function of working the hero into a fighting moody that it is clearly a case of generic subversion. The episode is a critical reflection on the already established facts of an authoritative cultural narrative, and as such it participates in the meta-level of the text. It functions as an inner textual- commentary of a very particular kind. As such, it shares in the world of the external frames, though it formally is located in the inner space of the tex4 being embedded in the heart of the main narrative. If SOy then one may speculate that it may be the product of the same circles.

11.4. The KarJ)a-Salya and the Arjuna-Yudhi,thira Exchanges Considered Together and in the Larger Scheme of the Mahiibharata

The pair of praise-blame exchanges studied in this chapter complement each other in a number of ways. We have already pointed out that a parallelism is suggested by the very symmetry of the situation, namely, that each of the two main combatant-protagonists of the Parvan, Kart:ta and Arjun~ participates in a hostile verbal encounter before facing his major antagonist. In a sense, these encounters prepare the two heroes for the real battle encounter to follow. They detennine their state of mind during the fight. Do they in any way detennine the outcome of the encounter? Do they function as some kind of an ordeal? There does seem to be a contrast between the performance of the two: KaIl}a has failed some kind of test in his exchange with SaIy~ and Arjuna has successfully passed one in his exchange with

Yudhi~thlra.

Yet, as is always the case in the Mahabhiirata, to speak of

causality in a strict sense would be misleading because the outcome of the struggle has 9

been detennined in advance.

246

Both verbal exchanges constitute a digression from the running narration of the battle events. In both, as in the more familiar case of the Bhagavadgltii, it is as if the narrative as if freezes in mid-action, and the listener or reader just has to wonder how these busy warriors could afford to take so much time off their fighting activities to do all that talking. Both episodes are interludes, though the Ka.r"Qa-Salya exchange is not quite as comic as the Arjuna-Yudhi~t:hira exchange. Both exchanges are a strikingly bold variation on the conventions and the rhetoric of the verbal duels which are so common in the Ka17J.a Parvan and in some other pans of the War Books of the Mahiibhiirata. Each one, however, transforms and even subverts the conventions of these heroic exchanges to achieve quite different ends. Both also stand out in the Parvan in that they incorporate extra-heroic discourse such as parables, mock lovesongs and so forth. This of course strengthens the sense of digression or of standing outside the flow of the rest of the narrative. Thus, their study requires addressing issues of genre. In fact., in the Salya-KarIJa exchange we even find some explicit address of issues of genre, an attempt to reflect on genre transformations. This may indicate that some conscious manipulation of forms is going on here. To take this argument further, I would say that in these episodes heroic narrative comes against its limits, that its generic boundaries are explored or challenged in a way that does not occur through most of the bulk of the Ka17J,a Parvan. Along with this consciousness of form goes a certain reflexive comment on discourse itself. Here is a case in which what is clearly spelled out in one of our pair of episodes is latent in the other. In the exchange between

Yudhi~thira

and Arjuna, the notion

of "killing with words," or of substituting words for violent action, is central and definitive. Discourse, it is suggested, can have and often has much to do with confrontation, aggression and violence, yet it also is a way of averting unwanted violence, it can replace violence and in this sense it is a non-violent activity. The intimate relationship between

247

talking and aggression is less articulated but not absent from the Salya-KarQa exchange. Twice, before KarI)a launches into his twin Madra-abuse rounds, he prefaces his perfonnance with a declaration of his intent to kill SaIya. In the light of the explicit presence of such a notion in the other exchange, I suggest that Kan::ta's Madra-abuse is also a case of substitution. K.a.rQa's "killing Salya with words" helps him to avoid killing Salya with weapons. The SaIya-KarIJa exchange is so complex that it becomes very difficult to distinguish between earnest words and deceitful words. It is impossible to say whether Satya is speaking truthfully, treacherously or both. In the

Yudhi~thira-Arjuna exchange

as well,

words are not what they appear to be. Hostile words serve a friendly purpose, and boasting is an act of self imposed violence. Both episodes are about verbal trickery, verbal manipulations. Words are instruments of tactics and strategy. If the War Books are about heroic action and the use of weapons, these digressions are about the use of words. Both have to do with power, but as Arjuna reminds

Yudhi~thira:

In speech lies the strength of good brahmans, But strength of arms is appropriate to qatriyas, say the wise.

CM.Bh. BORI vm.49.81ab) When warriors do take up the weapons of words, a point of contact is established between the world of weapons, the domain of the /qatriya, and the world of words and of ritual action, the domain of brahmans. This brings us to my contention that these episodes exhibit a much stronger ideological affinity than do most of the battle descriptions of our Parvan with the world of non-battle books, such as the Adi Parvan, the Santi Parvan or the Aivamedhika Parvan books which are much more brahmanic in their orientation. y

They introduce the trope of "killing with words" which incorporates heroic activities and values into a more embracing view of reality, to which words are central. This is, of course, not new - a major such trope in the Mahabharata is the comparison of war to

248

sacrifice. The trope works two ways, however - war is a kind of ritual, but ritual too has to be conceived as a kind of "war." I contend that our pair of episodes must be understood in this context of the "ritual of battle" trope. They half playfully take the metaphor one step farther. As in sacrificial ritual, one kind of killing can be substituted for another. It is not surprising, considering the affinity of these episodes with the frame story, that both episodes are reflexive in the deeper henneneutic sense. The heroic verbal exchange has been transfonned into a complex textual space which allows a critical distance from the course of narrative events. A kind of inner-textual commentary develops, a probing deeper into the larger issues of meaning. This would not be possible without the "aesthetics of expansion" described in Chapter One. Perhaps even more important is the multivocal character of these probings, made possible by the diaIogic-contestatory quality of these episodes. Meanings, and the meanings that are clearly most at stake in these episodes are social values, are not so much settled as opened up or even problematized. Both exchanges articulate a dissenting point of view or interpretation of the traditionally accepted situation, even if it is not recognized as the "right" one. KarI}a displays his virtues of friendship and loyalty, and is evidently more sincere, if not more truthful than his interlocutor. Arjuna explicitly points out Dhannariijats many faults, and the whole situation makes a caricature of the character traits which are nonnally considered the highest virtues of Yudhi~!hira. On a more general level, prevalent views, existing discourses are articulated without necessarily arriving at a resolution. Expenditure and magnanimity are pitted against regulated giving to brahmans. Literal adherence to the word of one's promise at all cost is pitted against avoidance of harm at the price of verbal trickery. Is self-control or heroic activism the more desirable kingly virtue? Issues of social mobility and of regional differences are provoked in a textual tradition that usually adheres to a strict hierarchical ideology. The values of a tribe-like social organization are contrasted with those of a more

249

strictly stratified society. The playful quality of this activity does not obliterate its utmost seriousness.

THE UNIVERSITY OF CmCAGO

A BATILEFIELD OF A TEXT INNER TEXTUAL INTERPRETATION IN THE SANSKRIT MAHABHARATA

VOLUME TWO

A DISSERTATION SUBMITTED TO THE FACULTY OF THE DIVISION OF THE HUMANITIES IN CANDIDACY FOR THE DEGREE OF

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY DEPARTMENT OF SOUTH ASIAN LANGUAGES AND CIVILIZATIONS

BY TAMAR CHANA REICH

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS DECEMBER 1998

11

Table of Contents Volume Two Chapter ill: Dialogic Forms In the Asvamedhika Parvan .............. .... ......... 250

ill. 1. Contestatory Discourse .................................................................................. 250

m.2. A Contestatory Textual Relationship: The Story of The Br!taspati-Salp:varta Rivalry (XIV.4-10) and the Discourse on the Enemy Within (XIV .11-13) .................................................

H

••••••••••••••••

289

ill.3. Inner Textual Interpretation: The Mongoose Unit (XIV.92..96) ....................301

ill.4. Playful Manipulations: The Yoga as Internal Sacrifice Unit (XIV.20-2S) ..................................................................................................323 ill.S. Shifting Guilt in the Horse Sacrifice Complex Unit (XIV .61-91) ................. 345 ill.6. Uttailka: Encounters with God and with Serpents (XIV.52-57) .................. .358

m. 7. The Aivamedhika Parvan: Renewal and Redefinition of a Tradition .... H.

u, .......................................................................................

370

Conclusion ...................................................................................................................376 Bibliography ................................................................................................................ 379

250

Chapter Three

Dialogic Forms In the jf§vamedhika Parvan

ill. I. Contestatory Discourse

m.I.I. The Debate Between the Wandering Ascetic and the Sacrificing Priest The following small episode will serve as the perfect entry into our topic. It is called the yati-adhvaryu-sarpviida, The Debate Between the Wandering-Ascetic and the

Sacrificing-Priest (M.Bh.BORI XIV.28.6-28). The debate is part of a larger sub-unit of the Aivamedhika Parvan (book XlV) called the Anugltii. During a scarifice, ayati (wandering ascetic) who happens to be present interrupts the rite radically criticizes i~ proclaiming that: "This (sacrifice) is violence." He "verbally abuses" (v. kuts) the adhvaryu, or the officiating priest.

Indee~

he irreverently ridicules

the priest's doctrinal statement, fortified by a reference to a scriptural passage, l according to

1The sruti in question is probably a part of the Adhrigu Prai~a (Taittirlyabriihma1}.a ill.6.6; Aitareyabriihmal)a VI.6-7), an invocation to the divine and human slaughterers, calling upon them to bring the animal to the holy doors of the sacrificial place. This prai$a is routinely uttered when an animal sacrifice (paiubandha) is petformed, just before the victim is slaughtered. It expresses the wish that the parents, relatives and friends of the victim will consent to its death, and the hope that the victim's several organs and limbs such as the eyes will be merged in divinities like the sun. The passage goes on to give the directions as to how the victim's parts are to be cut and deposed of. The relevant verse is: "udicloa asya pado nidhattat suryaIp. c~ur gamayatad vataIp prfuJam anvavasrjatad antarik¥am asurp disaQ. srotrarp prthivlm sanram. See Kane 1974 Part II, 1123. It

251

which the goat will not be destroyed, since each component of a sacrificial victim returns to its gross-elemental source (ether7 air, fire water earth).2 "lfyou are doing this for the good of the

goat~"

asks the yan, "why haven't you first

obtained permission from the goat's family and friends?" Some of my readers may be inclined to applaud this unmasking of the absurdity of the claim that when an animal is sacrificed it is not really harmed. From the adhvaryu's point of view, however, the irony is that the yati is unwittingly both affIIlIling procedures of sacrificial slaughter and playing a

ritual role essential to the effective completion of the rite. The yati is affrrming sacrificial procedures, because in Vedic ritual, when an animal victim is sacrificially slaughtered., the permission of its parents., relatives and friend is in fact obtained - well, ritually... 3 More important for our purposes is the fact that the very interruption of the sacrificial proceedings~

the radical questioning, the insults and the joking are themselves part of the

ritual, being agonistic or contestatory elements common in Srauta rituals. The yati's earnest ridicule, which may appear to the uninitiated observer as to the yati himself as forceful criticism, is in fact disarmed and transformed by this agonistic-ritualistic perspective of the exchange into ritual clowning, necessary and non-threatening. The irony of the situation not withstanding, the debate goes on. The adhvaryu insists that even the subtlest sensory activity such as smelling is a fonn of taking a Life, and whether one is engaged in subtle taking of life such as sensory experience or thought, or in gross taking of life such as sacrificial slaughter, does not matter. The yati replies that one who is free from attachment to existent objects has no fear of sin~ probably meaning that a renunciate like himself, who is unattached to worldly action~ does not incur the sin of

2M.Bh.BORI XIV.28.7-10ab.

3In the recitation of the Adhrigu Prai,ya (see note 1 above). The relevant passage is: "anvenam mata manyatam anu pitinu bhrata. sagarbhyo 'nu salcha sayiithyal}"

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violence through smelling. The adhvaryu seizes on this point. He addresses the yati reverently as "Lord" (bhagavan) and admits that the yan's divine understanding has enlightened his own mind. After this respectful gesture, which pretty much amounts to accepting the yati as his guru,4 he nevertheless draws his own independent conclusions, namely, that as long as one knows that freedom from attachment liberates one from ail sin attached to action~ there can be no sin in slaughtering animals in sacrifice. The yati of our story stands for what is elsewhere referred to as the "heretic" (nastika, he who claims that "it does not exist)"). This is clearly the case, in spite of the

significant fact that the term nastika does not occur anywhere in the Aivamedhika Parvan, because the yati proudly declares about himself: "We instruct only from direct

perception, we do not recognize what is beyond perception! "5 The yati rejects the scriptural authority of the

Ved~

and thus he fits perfectly the very definition of the heretic.

The status of realities not verifiable by sense perception was a hot polemical issue around the time of our text's formation. Against the heretic position expressed by our yati, the MImfupsa school of Vedic interpretation posited that the truth of the Veda can be neither verified nor denied by sense perception. 6 This, compounded with the fact that the yati's main agenda is non-violence, ahi1]'lsa, marks him at least as a generic representative of the extra-Vedic religions lainism and Buddhism. In away, the lains may seem to be the more appropriate candidates, since they were more definitely advocates of nonviolence. However, the occurance of the terms buddhi and pratibuddha in the words with which the adhvaryu addresses the yati: "hhagavan bhagavadbuddhya pratibuddho bravlmy lt

aham may hint that the yati is a Buddhist. Either way, this little episode certainly

4M.Bh.BORI XIV .28.25-26ab. 5M.Bh.BORI XIV.28.28cd.

6Sabara's commentary to laiminI's Mlma.r,zsQsiitra is dated to the 4th century C.E ..

253

addresses the theological and ideological struggles contemporary to the fonnation of the

Mahiibhiirata. On the one hand, a heretic, on the other, the representative of brahminic sacrifice-centered religion. But if this is an ideological

contes~

one may ask, who is the winner? Who gets the

last laugh? We have seen that the yan unwittingly contributes to the completion of a sacrifice to which he is opposed. The adhvaryu, on the other handy admits that the yati's understanding has enlightened him (pratibuddho bravlmY aham). Just like the yati's verbal abuse, which could easily be misunderstood by a non-initiate as incidental y this behavior on the part of the adhvaryu is loaded with ritual association, since it is exactly what the loser in the ritual sacrificial debates described in late Vedic literature was supposed to do if he wanted to "keep his head." 7

In the end, the adhvaryu continues to perfonn the sacrifice, animal slaughter and all, albeit with a new understanding, namely, that if one acts without attachment, one need not fear the consequences of action. g Thus~ the yati is declared the winner and the adhvaryu gets his way anyhow . Was the adhvaryu's declaration that the yati's position is true just a way of brushing off a serious objection? Before we attempt to answer this question, we

must consider the broader topic of the institution of sacrificial verbal contests. We will see that the hallmark of the verbal contest is a certain open-endedness, which is not totally distinguishable from ambiguity.

7Witzel 1987. 8The Bhagavadglta is, of course, the best known textual formulation of this doctrine.

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ill.1.2. Contestatory Discourse in the Aivamedhika Parvan. This chapter of my study explores a rhetorical fonn which I call .. contestatory discourse.ll The name is intended to suggest rNO of its characteristics. First. that it is associated with agonistic or "contestatory" ritual practices. Second, that it has to do with the contestation of ideologies. It involves the intertextual deployment of units of discourse against each other so as to draw out their difference. This discursive activity is conceived of by its practitioners as an essential part of sacrificial ritual (yajfia), understood by them in a specific sense which will be explained below. I will argue that in the Aivamedhika Parvan, this discursive pattern plays a constitutive role. It is quite central to the Parvan's thematics as well as to its textual organization. This chapter of my study is thus also a reading of the Aivamedhika Parvan. or the Book of the Horse Sacrifice - a task which has never been systematically undertaken, to the best of my knowledge, though studies have been devoted to sections or episodes of the Parvan. 9 Because of their thematic or structuralist nature, none of these studies attempts to describe the nature of the textual dynamics which hold the Parvan together. I will henceforth attempt to unravel how the apparently diverse units of the

9S cheuer has a brief discussion of the story of the Sa1!lvarta-B rhaspati Rivalry (1982. 168-180). On the Revival of Parlk$it episode's eschatological dimensions, see (Biardeau 1971,31, 75ff.); Dumezil (1968,174-5; 219-222; 230); Hiltebeitel (1976, 308,;336-353); Doniger has discussed the Uttarika Story and the Description of the Horse Sacrifice briefly in her 1986 article on the Adi Parvan. Laine (1989) has a chapter on "Visions of Seers," a good part of which is devoted to Uttaitka's epiphany of ~I)a Goldman (1971), a study of the Bhargavacycle, does not treat the UttaIika episode at all, even though UttaIika is a Bhargava. Katz (1989) has a brief chapter on the Description of the Horse Sacrifice. As to the Anuglta subparvan, Sharma (1986) devotes a whole chapter to it. but he is interested in the unit as an early recapitulation or interpretation of the Bhagavadglta which anticipates the later knowledge GiUina) oriented interpretations. Studies of proto-Sattkhya thought have tended to address the Sa.nk.hya passages of the Anuglta sub-parvan only in passing, since these are considered rather late. See e.g. Johnston 1937,4-6; Larson 1979, 108.

255

Parvan dialogically engage in the ideological problematic around which the Parvan revolves through various deployments of contestatory imagery and discursive patterns. While related textual phenomena are found both in and outside of the Mahabharata. and while the trope of sacrifice is certainly prominent in other parts of the Mahabhiirata. "contestatory discourse" does not playas constitutive a role in the epic as a whole as it does in the Aivamedhika Parvan. The Sabhii Parvan, or the Book of the Assembly Hall, is of special interest in this respect. Like the Aivamedhika Parvan, it is strongly embedded in contestatory ritual imagery. The Siiupalavadha, or the Slaying of Sisupiila episode of that

Parvan is certainly contestatory discourse in our sense. Nevertheless, the dialogic pitting against each other of antagonistic discourses is much less developed in the Sabhii Parvan. As far as I can see, this pattern has been developed more fully in the ASvamedhika Parvan than anywhere else in the Mahiihharata. The Asvamedhika Parvan is one of those Parvans which seems at first a rather rambling collection of heterogeneous materials of the kind that gave rise to the image of the

Mahiibharata as a "literary monster." 10 Precisely because of this, it is a good place to approach the question of the epic's unity or textual integrity with which my larger project is concerned. I contend that in the ASvamedhika Parvan, this impression of heterogeneity is

a result of the deliberate juxtaposition of radically different discourses. Rather than being arbitrary, such juxtaposition is appropriate in a Parvan which is about a contestatory rite. The Aivamedhika Parvan is about an aiva-medha, a horse-sacrifice. We shall see that the Parvan does not simply recount the performance of the rite, but radically questions its validity and explores the boundaries of its possible meanings. Such radical questioning is evidence of the vigorous struggle over the meaning and the role of sacrifice (yajiia) within an emergent hegemony or order (dhanna) based on the alliance between kings and

IOWinternitz 1927,326.

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brahmins. This emerging dharma defined itself against the pressures of non- brahminic competing dharmas, dhannas which refused to construct their universe around Vedic sacrifice. Most notable amongst these is the Buddhist dharma, which is never explicitly recognized, but nevertheless is ever-present in our Parvan. The Buddhists rejected sacrifice because they regarded it as a useless activity which only perpetuates the state of bondage. The brahmin circles who, as we shall see, shaped the Aivamedhika Parvan., advocated in return a very ambitious, complex, indeed, tension ridden, perhaps even contradictory concept of sacrifice as the paradigm of all life processes, yogic activity., dharmic action, political action, systems of exchange and distribution of goods - indeed, as the paradigm of reality itself. I I

I read the Aivamedhika Parvan as an arena in which the work of defining and redefining a dhanna around the tenn yajfia and against the niistikas took place. I do not, however, claim that sacrifice has an equally central place in the Mahabharata as a whole. Sacrifice is no doubt an important trope in the epic, and the concern of the Aivamedhika

Parvan with the violence inherent to sacrifice resonates with the concern of other

Mahabharata Parvans with the violence inherent to even a dharmic political order. We must keep in mind, however, that in some Parvans, such as the Kal7)a Parvan with which we have to some extant dealt in Chapter Two, or the Udyoga Parvan. sacrifice is rarely alluded to. Thus we start from the limited observation that in the Book of the Horse

Sacrifice, sacrifice or yajiia is indeed a central trope, and proceed to argue that in this book, ideological contestation is explicitly cast as a necessary, even essential aspect of sacrifice. Contestatory discourse is a way of addressing the discourse of those who are construed as the religious-ideological other. This particular trope seems to pull in two

IISee Biardeau and MaIamoud 1976, Heesterman 1985.

257

opposite directions. however. It allows a degree of openness to challenges to one's own presuppositions, but it also functions as a built-in resistance mechanism to critical attacks.

The other's point of view can always be incorporated into one's own universe without compromising one's basic bottom line stance, namely, that sacrifice (yajna) and the socioy

cosmic order (dhanna) are synonymous. Why is the ideological opponent never openly identified and addressed in our

Parvan? It will not suffice to simply attribute this silence to what is often seen as a general Brahminic tendency to incorporate the other's position within one's own. This stereotype has been established in Euro-centric scholarship based on observation of later developments. 12 There is no reason to assume that such patterns were already deeply set at the time of the composition of the Mahabharata. If anything, then the Mahahharata is where we first see this pattern emerging. Rather, this behavior should be understood as a combination of strategies in a specific historical situation. First, it is plain caution, to avoid offending the very same "heretics" who at the time of the composition of the Parvan were quite influential in kings' courts. Second, a matter of ideological containment. 13 An ideological challenge will seem less threatening if it can be presented as reducible to one's own terms of discourse. Such a strategy makes sense in a cultural text which is directed primarily towards those within the brahmin fold who felt uncomfortable with the

violence of the central institution of their dharma. As far as I am concerned, it doesn't matter so much whether this discomfort was an "orthogenetic development of the sacrificial cult" 14 or originated in non-brahmin circles. IS What does matter, is that at the

I2Recent writers who reflect this stereotype are Hacker 1983; Halbfass 1988. 13! take the tenn from Fredric Jameson, who approaches ideology in terms of strategies of containmen~ intellectual and formal. He explains that such strategies can be unmasked only by confrontation with the ideal of totality which they at once both imply and repress. Jameson 1981, 10,52-54.

14Heestennan 1985, 39-41.

258

time of the formation of our Parvan, some of those who faithfully stood by the sacrificial cult have nevertheless come to question it to a point which they must have felt was threatening to the integrity of their faith and tradition. Whether they were the original cause of this anxiety or not, the outspoken attacks on yajna by the well established competing dharmas must have heightened this internal anxiety.

While I attempt to address most of the material attested in the Aivamedhika Parvan, the order of the discussion is dictated by considerations other than the order of narration. I begin with the most obvious and simple examples as a way of introducing my reader to contestatory themes. Then I move on to more subtle and somewhat playful variations of the structure. The Description of the Horse Sacrifice and the Pan/qit episodes connected with it, as well as the Uttarika story, are addressed last they are both very complex and because they function as connectives between the Parvan's somewhat circumscribed thematics and the larger thematics of the Mahahhiirata .

ID.l.3. Sacrifice as Contest: The Early Sources. The idea of sacrifice-as-contest has a pedigree going back as far as the ~gveda~ which has been roughly dated to the second millennium B.C.E. 16 It is essential for my argument to clarify exactly how I construe the role of such archaic elements in interpreting the

Aivamedhika Parvan, which is, after all~ more than one thousand years later (roughly 400 B.C.E.- 400 C.E.).

In order to do this~ it is necessary to first take a quick look at this pedigree. This will require a somewhat lengthy digression into recent developements in Vedic studies. Those

15As Winternitz, Renou and Filliozat thought. Heesterman 1985,213, note 78. 16Witzel 1995.

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of my readers who are familiar with the details of the Mahabharata narrative will immediately recognize that the Mahabharata is full of echoes of the Vedic motifs which will be discussed below. A number of prominent scholars have in recent years addressed the subject of contestatary elements in Vedic ritual. The most prominent among them in this respect is Jan Heesterman, but the work of other scholars, notably Hany Falk and Michael Witzel,

and also Petteri Koskikallio and George Thompson is also relevant. Most of these scholars build on the earlier work ofF. B. J. Kuiper~17 and in a different way, on Marcel Mauss' seminal Essai sur ta don.I 8 The work of these scholars is concerned with the transition from the early Vedic (~gveda) to the late Vedic period (late BrahmQ1')as and Upani$ads~ in other words, the first half of the first millennium B.C.E.).l9 It provides us with invaluable information, but not with all the necessary tools to understand how these Vedic motifs function in the Aivamedhika Parvan. Heesterman 20 has spent much of his career studying Brahmal)a texts and Srauta (ritual) Sutras, and has particularly focused on a range of activities that are a part of

sacrificial ritual involving competition~ play, gambling, riddling, ritual role-changing, and the ritual reviling of sacrifice itself or of its representatives, the Vedic gods Indra or Agni.21

17Kuiper 1960, liThe Ancient Aryan Verbal Contest."; 1975 "The Basic Concept of Vedic Religion." Other important Indological contributions to this line of scholarship are Held 1936 and Renau 1949~ 1953. 18Mauss 1923-4. 19Witzel 1995. 20Heesterman 1986-9~ 1985, 1993. 21The Mahavrata rite, for example, contains a chariot race, an arrow shooting, a tug of war between an arya and a person of low social status (iiidra), and an exchange of verbal obscenities between a man and a women who later ritually copulate; one text (the Paiicavil]lia Brahma1)a) also requires a verbal exchange between a "praiser" (abhigara), who eulogizes the participants, and a "reviler n(apagara), who blames them.

260

In his

anaIysis~

these practices have in common a concern with power relations. They are

characterized by an open-endedness~ in the sense that their outcome is~ in

principle~

not

predetermined. For instance, either side could win in a debate or in a gambling match. Such performances have therefore a dramatic quality, in the sense that the audience wants to know the outcome. A crucial step in Heesterman's reasoning is to diagnose these elements as essentially foreign to the logic of the Srauta ritual system and its ideology, and to identify the Srauta system as the hallmark of IfcIassical" brahminism, which he understands as grounded in a transcendental metaphysics and in a hierarchical organization of reality, based on ritual purity. To explain the presence of these elements in the "classical"

rituals~

he posits (somewhat vaguely, to some scholars' taste) a "pre-classical"

stage of Indian civilization. This stage, he believes t was characterized by a tribal, halfnomadic society, whose yearly cycle alternated between cattle raids and looting expeditions performed by "impure" bands of young men in the six months before the rainy season, and potlatch-like rituals starting around the rainy season. Gift-giving played a major role in these feasts. The wealth obtained in the raids was distributed. and the evil and impurity (papman) incurred through the violence of cattle raiding was "wiped off' onto the

recipients of the gifts. These ceremonies were contests for social status, and the identity of the winners and the losers was not quite predetennined.22 Heestennan posits a grand social-ritual reform in which the violence and uncertainty of the old socio-religious order were replaced with the fixed hierarchical order of brahminical ritual and the caste system. A possible result of Heestennan's theoretic~ construct is to relegate the agonistic motifs found in the "classicar' texts to the status of cultural survivals. Heesterman's thinking is however more complex than that. He argues that nclassical" Indian culture has always suffered from an "inner conflict," in the sense that

22The seminal book on potlatch is Mauss 1923-4.

261

the most important social institutions, namely, Indian kingship and state, have in fact retained the violent elements which brahminic ideology strives to deny. I find Heesterman's theoretical framework suggestive and frustrating at the same time. It is suggestive in drawing our attention to agonistic elements within the culture, and is correct in associating the origins of the agonistic world view with archaic social formations. However, Fredric 1ameson's critique of structuralism, as a model of culture which cannot account for genuine change or human agency., is quite apt in this case. 23 Heesterman's work is concerned with change - the transition from what he tenns the "pre-classical period" to the "classical period." Stilt his reading of "classical brahminism" as a systematic rejection of earlier patterns and world-views leads to a monolithic model of the Ifclassical" civilization. From Heestennan's point of view, to the extent that the rejected patterns are stiU detectable. these patterns are worse than "survivals," they are a regressive cultural force, which holds back the rationalizing impulse of the classical "system.

fI

"Classical brahminism" is thus represented as hopelessly locked into its own contradictions (here the influence of Weber's position that the ascetic impulse in brahminism is burdened by its magic tendencies is quite evident ).24 In my opinion, such an analysis is both inadequate to the facts and crippling of scholarship in that it locks our own thinking about South asian culture into the Orientalist streotype of a stagnant culture. I find more useful a model of culture such as suggested by Raymond Williams, which recognizes that the residual elements in a culture are often drawn upon selectively to challenge a hegemonic ideology:

231ameson 1972. 24Weber 1958, 137-158.

262

It is in the incorporation of the actively residual - by interpretation, dilution~ projection, discriminating inclusion and exclusion - that the work of the selective tradition is especially evident.25 Indeed, I believe this study demonstrates how such residual elements can be drawn upon in various ways to serve

different~

and even competing cultural interests. AIl this

being said, I still think Heestennan's insights are valuable and can open the way to a more dynamic model culture.

Falk,26 like Heestennan, assumes a radical socio-economic and cultural breakthrough between the earliest Vedic Period and the middle Vedic period. His reconstruction of the pre-classical rituals differs, however, and tends to be more specific than that of Heestennan. Nevertheless, he essentially agrees with Heestennan's characterization of the "classical system as an attempt to purify the ritual from the earlier agonistic practices. His If

work should be addressed here because it throws light on some important elements of the agonistic cult which Heestennan has overlooked or emphasized less.

Falk has shown that according to the earliest Vedic texts young men were regularly required to join bands devoted to raiding ex.peditions. The practice, called vratacarya, is referred to as a normal stage of life. It was undertaken by all young male members of "proper society" as envisioned in these texts. The role of a consecrated bandit was undertaken around the age of 16, and lasted about four years, right after the period of study in the teacher's house (brahmacarya). In the middle-Vedic period, however, the mainstream of the society described in the texts has already abandoned raiding expeditions and warfare as a means of livelihood. Texts of this period refer to vratacarins as desperate, down-and-out individuals who resort to their way of life apparently because only such radical means could provide them with an avenue to improving their social status and 25Williams 1977, 123.

26Palk 1986.

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attaining heaven (sacred status). Three categories of people are mentioned in middle-Vedic texts as prone to become vratyas: I) Younger brothers who were deprived of a part in the family inheritance because the custom was to pass everything on to the older brother. 2) First-born who nevertheless had been excluded from inheritance because of impotence~ in other words, inability to insure the family a continuing male line. 3) Impoverished poets, poets who failed to eam a prize in singing competitions because the patron of the sacrifice had found fault with their perfonnance.

Vratacarins lived in the wilderness, in bands, and made a living by cow raiding. They were, however, distinguished from ordinary bandits by their rituals. Their sacrificial rituals were called sattras. These rituals were marked by activities which were considered deviant for other stages or stations of life. The vratyas ritually drank sura (an impure alcoholic drink.) and ate cow meat, and the earlier texts even have clear evidence of cannibalistic practices. On certain occasions, sexual conduct with normally forbidden women was mandatory. In the earlier texts there is evidence that one of the participants in a sattra was put to death - sacrificed - by his companions. The key feature of all these practices is the ritual contact with death and the kingdom of the dead. During the performance of their vows~ vratyas were forbidden to wash. they did not shave or cut their nails, they had long, unkempt hair. They were closely associated with a highly polluting animat the dog, and in particular, with the dog-guardians of Yama's kingdom of the dead. In earlier texts, the gathering place of the vratyas was called the sabha or the iri1).a. Iril}a means "a salt ditch, a barren place, a burning ground." In later texts, the two tenns have been dissociated from each other, and sabha came to mean public gathering," If

"assembly hall," or liking's court." In the early period, the sabha and the iri{Ul were one and the same place, a barren ("salty") spot south of, and away from, the settlement. It was impure because it was associated with death and with dead ancestors.

Rudr~

divine head

of the bands of the Maruts, was the lord of the sabha. The vratyas were called "poison

264

swallowers" because they ate forbidden foods, assaulted persons whom normally one was not allowed to assault., and spoke forbidden language. The vriityas would gather in the sabhii. once a year. on or around the winter solstice. They would kill a cow and sacrifice it

to Rudr~ and this act was supposed to pacify the wrathful god of the crossroads and to aven disease and death from the settled community. The sacrifice was preceded by ritual drinking, sex with questionable women who were brought there for the purpose (respectable women were forbidden to come near the place), singing, verbal contests and dice playing. A ritual dice-game was played in order to select, or rather to single-out, the "leader" 9

of the band (grhapati). This was a highly ambivalent honor. In fac4 he was the one who got the losing throw of dice usually called kali but sometimes also "the dog"(ivan). 9

When selected, he would become possessed by kaLi, and would ritually tum into a "dead dog." The grhapati had to engage in verbal contests with opposing members of the band, and to incur the sin (piipman) of killing the cow for Rudra. The winner in the game was the one who got the krta throw, and was also called the ivaghnin. or the "dog killer." The vriitya cult was marginalized by the brahmin tradition of the later period, and Falk has refined our understanding of this process. Still, refonned versions of the sattra, in which the contact with death is only symbolic, survive in classical brahminical ritual texts such as the Srauta Siitras, and continue to exert their influence on the brahminic imagination and idiom in various ways.27

27In the classical system, a sattra is a sacrificial session which extends over more than twelve days. It is to be perfonned by a large number of brahmans which are all equally yajamiinas in the sense that they all get the merit equally. They officiate as priests in their own sacrifice. One of them, however, has a special status and is called the grhapati. AIl participants must undergo a consecration (dlqii), and there are no gifts for the officiating priests (da/qiniis). Sattras which last over one year are called sQ,1'!ZvatsQ,rikasattras. In the Srauta texts, sattras as long as a thousand years are mentioned. On the penultimate day of a sattra the Mahavrata rite, which abounds in agonistic elements (above note 21) is performed. A sattra always has a verbal contest or a reviling-and-praising exchange. The Jaiminlya Srautasiitra emphasizes that all

265

Another Vedic scholar. Michael Witzel, recently attempted a reconstruction of the social and political changes which took place between the early Vedic period (attested in the 8gveda) and the late Vedic period (attested in the late Brahmar.zas and the Upani$ads). He collected the evidence documenting the formation of what he calls "the frrst Indian state," the Kuru-PaiicaIa realm28 which, he is able to show, was situated between present Eastern Punjab and Kausambi-Allahabad. Much as Heesterman had assumed, the Kuru-PaiicaIa realm was a tribal union, albeit more centralized than before. There were only two large tribes instead of many small ones of which the ~gveda speaks. In the middle Vedic period the center shifted to a social fonnation with hereditary rulers or kings, a more complex division of labor, more fixed social stratification and a hereditary priesthood. This new priesthood, now under the patronage of kings, evolved more complex rituals. Witzel traces the process of the compilation and canonization of the hymns of the 8gveda in this period. The hymns which were earlier composed in performance by bards, were now canonized, fixed, rigorously memorized and used as mantras, or ritual formulas. The complex ritual system codified in the emerging Brahma1)a literature was based on these mantricized hymns. Witzel agrees with Falk that the agonistic elements found in these reformed rituals, as well as the archaic language of the mantras, were already reformulations of older materials - deliberate archaisms worked into an emerging system. According to Witzel, the periodic looting-expeditions (vriityas) and the dual tribal organization were retained in this period to help legitimize the new system in terms of the old. There was a ritual alliance

participants must be followers of the same sacrificial tradition, lest disagreement should arise among them about the perfonnance of the rite. Kane 1974 part It 1239-1246. 28 Actually,

Heestennan realized early on the centrality of the Kuru-Paiidila tribal union and its connection with the vriityas and with sattra rituals. Heesterrnan 1962, 1518. Witzel shows that these practices were already a reconfiguration of the practices attested in the 8gveda.

266

of two moeties (the Kuru and the PaiicaIa "tribes"). Bands of young men called vratyas. were periodically consecrated and set apart from society as impure and sent to roam the realm of the other tribe. The distribution of booty taken in these raids still played an important role in royal ceremony, but the kings now made up for these expenses less by

ritual looting than by collecting heavy "tribute" (balz1- While competition was still a part of the ritua1s~ this drive was now according to Witzel cleverly manipulated by the dominant kings and brahmins as a way of channeling social mobility and the friction that it gives rise y

to, into less violent avenues than outright open fighting. The Kuntapa section of the Appendix to the /J.gveda (8,gvedakhila) is an important key to Witzel's reconstruction. The chariot races and other contestatory elements typical of other parts of the ~gveda are complicated here by a new and curious connection to royal symbolism. The hymns tell of rituals performed at Ku~etra by Kaurava kings. In

5.10.2y the poet sings of a Kuru king named P~it? in whose time the tribe "thrived auspiciously.

If

It indicates that P~it ruled after king Sudas and his famous triumph at

"the battle of the ten kings. "29 Another text of the middle Vedic period Paippalada y

Salflhita 10, is a record of the refonned coronation ritual of the early Kuru kings. Here, too? is attested the custom of royal "adoption" of bands of young men (vratyQs) which were sent to roam the realm of the other tribe in the union. A recent article by Petteri Koskikallio30 supplies more suggestive information about agonistic ritual practices in the Vedic period. It is a study of two related Vedic characters. Baka DaIbhya and Kesin DaIbhya. Baka DaIbhya is closely associated with sattrins of the KurupaiicaIa are~ especially with a group connected with the Nairni~a forest, with whom he is said to officiate as their Samavedic specialist. In one story he is said to have been

298VKh 5.14.130Koskikallio 1995.

267

given sick cows infected by Rudra31 instead of his sacrificial prize of healthy cows. In anotheryfamous passage he challenges and gets a pack of dogs to sing the udgftha. He is y

identified with another person Gliva Meitrey~ who is known as the Samavedic priest who y

officiated at the mythic sattra performed by the serpents.3 2 Kesin OaIbhya appears in many vratya stories. He is often involved in ritual competitions - both competitions between patrons of sacrifices~ and competitions between ritual specialists over patronage by such sacrificers. A common theme running through these stories is that of the junior competitor who typically manages to get the better of his senior through ritual means. Kesin's indefinite van:za status - sometimes he is a patron of the sacrifice ysometimes a priest, is typical of people with vratya affiliations. 33 34 More recently George Thompson35 has pointed out that the rhetoric of ritual verbal contests played a much more important role in shaping Vedic poetics than has been realized.

3l Vedic

Rudra was among other things associated with bovine sickness and death.

32See also Doniger 1985 y45. 33Interestingly, Koskikallio has first encountered Baka Dilbhya in the laiminibharata. This is a text of uncertain date traditionally attributed to Jaimini, one of Vyasa's other disciples. The only surviving part of the Jaiminibharata recounts Yudhi~thira's Asvamedha sacrifice. In this interesting text Baka DaIbhya figures as a Vedic seer who helps save the retinue of the sacrificial horses. In the Jaiminlya version~ the pair wanders into the Northern ocean and disappears into the water. The members of the retinue are forced to walk on water in a desperate attempt to not loose the horses. This calamity is finally averted when they suddenly come upon an island in the middle of the ocean on which the Vedic seer Baka DaIbhya is sitting in silent meditation. When he comes to his senses, he is oveIjoyed at an opportunity to finally see face to face ~l).a whom he long ago encountered as a baby sleeping on a leaf in the waters of pralaya. He uses his ascetic powers and causes the horses to emerge from the watery and eventually functions as one of the officiating priests in the horse sacrifice. 34Por Kesin DaIbhya in the Jaiminlya Upani$ad Briihma7)a 3.6.1-3 see also Doniger O'Flaherty 1985, 45-49. 35Thompson 1997.

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ill.l.4. The Problem of Residual or "Archaic" Elements in the Mahabharata. The number of elements connected one way or another with agonistic ritual motifs, which figure prominently in the Mahiibharata, is quite striking. Let us first review them, before we go on to inquire what their role can be in a text which reached its mature form much later, sometime between the fourth century B.C.E. and the fourth century C.E.. The Mahiibharata is the story of the battle at Kuru~etr~ a battle which is often compared to a "sacrifice. It tells of the feud between two related factions of the Kaurava If

clan, called in the epic the Kauravas and the PiQgavas respectively. The PatJQavas are the allies of the PaiicaIas, thus, the Kuru and PaiicaIa kingdoms playa main role in the narrative. The feud evolves because of uncertainties regarding the right of inheritance. The protagonists, the PfuJc;lava brothers, are twice driven into exile in order to prevent them from inheriting. They have to live secretly and in an impure state in the Kuru realm for a year. In this period they act in ways which are contrary to their normal warriors' dharma: Arjuna dances and acts effeminately,

Yudhi~!hira

teaches the dice game, sexual

transgression takes place against DraupadI. 36 They all make contact with impurities by virtue of pretending to be low caste people. They even get involved in a cattle raid. 37 These are all hallmarks of the vratya rituals. The outer frame of the Mahiibharata, the narration of the Bharata by the bard Vaisarppayana to king Janamejay~ occurs during an agonistic sacrifice of sorts, albeit a very unusual one. King Janamejaya attempts to destroy the whole race of snakes by

36To have her commit sexual impropriety would be inconceivable. 37 All

this is told in the Vira{ll Parvan.

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sacrificing them into the fire. This fantastic genocidal rite takes place in the Naimi~a forest, the center of the vriitya cult according to the earlier texts. The Mahabharata practically begins and ends with a reference to a dog. A dog, an offspring of the celestial bitch Saram~ enters the ritual compound of king Janamejaya's sacrifice and curses him.38 The same Janamejaya later offers the snake-sacrifice during which the narration of the main frame takes place. On the PfuJQavas' final ascent to heaven, when the other brothers and Draupadl have already dropped dead of fatigue, Yudhi~thlra is still accompanied by a last faithful companion, his dog. When he reaches heaven, he absolutely refuses to enter unless this loyal dog be allowed to enter with him. The dog then turns out to be his father, the god Dharma, in disguise. 39 King Parlk~it is a key figure in the Mahabharata. He is the only survivor of the Bharataclan after the war is over. and the father of Janamejay~ the Bharata king presented by the epic as its paradigmatic audience. Van Buitenen has pointed to the connection between the fateful game of dice

recounted in the Sabha Parvan and the ritual dicing of the royal consecration (Rajasuya) which is described in the same Parvan.40 But what could these seemingly Itarchaic" agonistic elements mean to the producers of the Mahahharata .. and why are they so strangely mixed up in the epic narrative as we have it? Instead of having the Kurus and the PaiicaIas at the center of the story, the Paficruas are only relatively minor allies of the Pfu)Qavas, and the main antagonism is between the pfu:tc;lavas and the Kauravas; the cattle-raids, the game of dice and the molestation of Draupadl are not represented as ritual activity at all.

38M.Bh. BOR! 1.3.1-9. 39M.Bh. BORI XVII. 1.22 and XVII.3. 4OS ection m.l.6.1 below discusses the Sahha Parvan material.

270

Scholars have offered more or less satisfying explanations for some of these discrepancies. B. C. Mazumdar and later N. N. Bhattacharya have proposed, for instance that the original story was about a Kuru-Paiidila conflic4 and that an upstart Pfu)Qava dynasty later co-opted the Mahabharata and patronized its revision with themselves in place of the Paiicwas as main protagonists. 41 Jan Heesterman has proposed an explanation of a totally different order. He believes that in the Mahabhlirata, as in other texts of "classicaI" brahmin ism, the archaic elements have been systematically reconfigured - in other words, that they have been dissociated from their earlier ritual context. This scholar sees the Mahabharata as basically rejecting and condemning the practices and world view which such elements represen4 since in his view classical brahminisrn has "purified" itself of agonistic practices and ways of thinking. He posits a tension between actual political and social practices and brahmin ideals. I find the first explanation a little too particular and the second a little too vague to account for the complexity of the facts. Both of these explanations have one thing in common. They assume that when a group with a new agenda or vision took over the textual tradition, they treated the pre-given textual materials that it used almost violently, distorting and disfiguring them deliberately beyond recognition. The model seems to be one of a "cultural revolution" Mao style. Given what we have seen of the lack of centralization in production and transmission of the Mahabharata, I find this model unconvincing. Such deliberate distortion may have taken place locally, but given what we have seen in Chapter One, in other words, given that the production/transmission of the

Mahabhiirata was not ever centraly controlled, I do not think that there ever was a group that possessed the power to completely revise the textual tradition according to its own agenda even if it wished to do so. The textual tradition evolved by interpreting through

41Bhattacharya 1969; Katz 37-38, 50-51 (note 49).

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expansion on pregiven textual materials, not by eldSing the old and replacing it with new versions. The historical picture is much more complex than this. The legacy of the vriitya cult has not disappeared from Hindu ritual practice. G. D. Sonthheimer has for instance recorded in the late 1970's practices which are very similar to those of the Vedic vratyas in the MallirilKhaIJQoba cult of Maharashtra, the Mailie cult of Kamataka and the MallaI)na cult of Andhra AIl these cults celebrate the victory of Siva as ~artaQQa Bhairava over the tiaityas MaQ.i and Malla. The earliest clear textual evidence for the existence of such a cult

is the 6th century Malliirimahiitmya of the Brahma1J4.a PuraT)a. In the Dasara festival observed and recorded by Sontheimer, the center of which is the small village DevaraguQc;Ia in Karnataka, a group of devotees called the Vaggayyas ritually tum into Bhairava's dogs. These devotees come mostly from a community of shepherds and husbandmen called the Kurubas. Brahmins rarely go beyond being outside observers of such festivities. Both according to textual sources and by its present form the cult maintains a connection with tribal or "outlandish" people, with hill chieftains or with predatory or bandit communities.42 The cult described by Sonthheimer may be said to have existed outside of the mainstream of brahminism and therefore irrelevant to our concerns. Since the ongoing Mahabharata textual tradition was a panicipant in the process of defining what

brahminism was and would become. I am not sure that such a sharp distinction between center and margins is justified, however. David G. White has also shown that vratya imagery prevails both in the representations of those groups of people who were stigmatized as marginal to brahmin society (such as the "dog cookers" or the ivapacas) and in the Purfu.tic mythology ofBhairav~ the terrible form of Siva by which he cut off

42S ontheimer

1981, 1984.

272

Brahma's fifth head and took to wandering for twelve years with a skull stuck to his hand until he reached Kasl. 43 The Bhairava story is, of course, the origin-myth of the later KapaIika sect, which despite the centrality of supposedly unorthodox or pre-classical agonistic themes in its cult reached considerable prominence in its time.44 Contrary to what Heesterman

believes~

not only an agonistic political reality," but II

also the agonistic complex of mythical themes and ritual practices has never disappeared from the South Asian religious scene. They have, however, been reinterpreted and relocated more than once. They were used in ways which would have totally baffled their early Vedic practitioners. As is common in the history of cultures, not all of these deployments are necessarily consistent with each other. David G. White explores the connections of cenain agonistic themes and practices with marginal social elements and with antinomial movements. Sontheimer recognizes the presence of such motifs in popular non-brahminic devotional cults, and emphasized the connection of the cult with tribal groups. This emphasis on marginality is partly misleading, however. We shaH see that in the Mahabharata in general and in the ASvamedhika Parvan in particular, cenain elements of the agonistic sacrificial tradition are being selectively reinterpreted by brahmins engaged in constructing an emerging hegemonic discourse and deployed in support of a (real or imagined?) Vedic revival. These Brahmins do not regard themselves

as marginal nor are they secret practitioners of antinomian rites. They definitely want to cast their textual and ritual tradition as the only foundation of a legitimate order (dhanna). Nevertheless, they enlist certain agonistic-contestatory Vedic motifs to their own cause. It seems that not only the devil, but even a priest can quote the scriptures.

43White 1991, 71-113. 44Lorenzen 1972.

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ID.LS. Two Key Contestatory Motifs. Before I undertake a detailed examination of the Aivamedhika Parvan as contestatory discourse, let us have a look at two contestatory motifs which figure prominently in the Parvan.

m.I.S .1. Interruption of the Sacrifice: One motif pointed out by Heesterman is that of the outsider who breaks into the sacrificial arena to disrupt it. In some stories. this violent interruption and challenge to the sacrifice seems to be essential to the completion of the rite. In the Brahma{la literature, a striking example of this motif is the following story of Sthiira's sattra. While engaging in a sattra - a long, joint sacrificial session, in which seventeen sacrificers act jointly as their own priests4S - Sthiira and his companions were sUlTounded by a hostile band, defeated and plundere~ and Sthiira himself was killed. While the survivors mourned their dead leader, one of them had a vision of him rising up to heaven. 46 Heesterman shows that some apparently anomalous elements of the "classical" ritual system are in fact muted references to this agonistic paradigm of the outsider who breaks into the ritual arena For instance, an expiatory rite is prescribed which is to be perfonned "in case a chariot passes between the sacrificial fifes." Now why should a chariot ever do such a thing in the middle of a Srauta ritual, which is a highly controlled affair?47 The Rajasiiya has a related complex of ritual elements just before the gifts to the officiating priests, the da/qil:zas, are distributed. It consists of a chariot race in which the king (or his son) must symbolically confront a hostile prince (rajanya) and shoot him. and of a cattle-

45For a detailed explanation of the sattra see note 27 above. 46Jaiminlya Bra.hama{la 2.297-99. Heestennan 1985,85-6; 99. 47MS 1.8.9: 130t9~ TB 1.4.4.10; SB 12.4.1.2; JB 1.51; AB 7.12.3; All quoted in Heestennan 1985, 90.

ApSS 9.11.1-4.

274

raid in which the king must take a herd of cows belonging to a relative. 48 In the Mvamedha or horse

sacrifice~

kings other than the patron of the sacrifice are explicitly

called upon to disrupt the sacrifice. In the first and crucial part of this famous

rite~

which

also figures at the center of our Parvan. a consecrated horse is let loose to roam the country-side "freely" for a whole year. The horse is accompanied by a "protective" anny. When the horse wanders into the realm of another king, this constitutes a challenge to that king. The other king must either accept an invitation to the

sacrifice~

an act of submission

which will make him a subject-king of the yajanuina.. or he should attack the horse .. effectively challenging the yajamana to battle, contesting that yajamiinds claim to military and political supremacy in the region. If the local king manages to defeat the army that protects the horse .. the sacrifice is terminated and is considered to have been "destroyed.

1f

Thus. the horse sacrifice is a thinly veiled challenge-to-battle to all surrounding kings.49 Heesterman also points out the affinity between the "classicar' consecration rite, the d~ii., and the early sattra rites of the vratyas. While the dllqa involves a symbolic death and rebirth of the sacrificer, the more explicitly agonistic initiates actually risked or even courted death in battle .. and this was thought of as a self-sacrifice leading to heaven. The death and ascent to heaven of Sthilra at his saura (above) is a good example of how these motifs remain as part of the sacrificial lore of the later Vedic period.

ill.l.S .2. The Verbal Contest: A second element of the agonistic complex of motifs .. the ritual verbal contest, has perhaps attracted even more scholarly attention. Ritual

48Heestennan 1957, 127-139. The agonistic elements are typically most pronounced in the Baudhayar.za Srauta Siltra .. ibid. 131-133. The Sisupiilavadha episode of the Sabhii P arYan is another example of an appropriation of this agonistic principle.. namely, that the sacrifice must be interrupted by an outsider who challenges the sacrificer and/or the divinity of the sacrifice. I deal with this episode in detail below, section ill.l.6.1 ..

49Sa tapatha BriihmaTJ.a XIll.I-5. Taitirlya Briihma1J.a m.8-9. Kane 1974 part II, 1228-1239. Dumont, P. E. 1927.

275

verbal contests are attested both in early and in later Vedic literature. Some of these were pan of a sacrificial rite proper and some not. A spectrum of forms has been described.

including debates in which the loser must formally become a disciple of the winner, or "his head will burst. "50 Sometimes the contenders take opposite sides on an issue such as: "What comes first, being or non-being?" without necessarily arriving at a conclusion. In another variety, one side will praise, and the other side will revile, either the ritual itself, or a divine being who is foundational to the ritual, such as Indra.51 A number of scholars have perceived a historical connection between this practice and another, later, South Asian discursive pattern, namely, the philosophical debate. The idea has generally been that the ritual verbal contest has been divested of its magical aspects and rationalized into the philosophical debate. While scholarly reconstruction of the particulars of this supposed disenchantment52 process as well as their ultimate valorization of it may vary, there seems to be a consensus that the Vedic verbal contest has been eventually displaced by other, "classical" if you will, cultural fonns.53 Actually, historical reality has not been so tidy. Even the hagiographies of the celebrated philosopher SaDkaracarya evoke royal-sacrificial agonistic imagery by their title. "digvijayas." In Madhavacarya's 14th-15th century

Sarikaradigvijaya, for instance, the great acarya encounters the god Siva, who is masquerading as an untouchable "dog-cooker" (ivapaca) accompanied by his four dogsthe Vedas in disguise. There is also an encounter with a KapaIika, U grab h airav a by name,

50Witzei 1987. 51 Heesterman 1985, 75. 52In the Weberian sense. 53Renou 1949, 1953; Kuiper 1960; Heesterman 1968-9; Witzel 1987.

276

who nearly wins a philosophical argument with Sruikara by cutting off Saitkara's head.54 Here power contests and identity transferences playas important a role as discursive argumentation. The beheading motif evokes the Vedic verbal contests in which the loser

was at risk of losing his head. This is also an example of how authors of texts that are no doubt on the side of the mainstream brahminic do not shy away from enlisting agonistic ritual imagery when they find it usefut and how the "classical" philosophical debate and

the seemingly archaic ritual- contestatory discursive patterns continue to interact right into the medieval period. A special kind of "logic" often occurs in the Vedic praising-and-reviling competitions. The reviler, much like one who takes a gift, takes on himself the evil of the one whom he has reviled. 55 This logic has not disappeared in the post-Vedic period - we shall see that some of the dialogues in the ..4ivamedhika Parvan evoke exactly this motif.

ill.l.6. The Vai$Qavaite and Saivaite Refonnulations of the Contestatory Complex. Let me recapitulate. We have discussed the agonistic complex of myths, ritual practices and social patterns as it is recorded in Vedic literature and have pointed out the continuing presence of elements of this complex in later brahminic religion. Let us now narrow our scope and re-focus our attention on the Mahabharata itself.

m.1.6.1. Sisupruavadha (M.Bh. BORI II.37-42): Van Buitenen has pointed out that major episodes of the Sabhii Parvan~ such as the conquest of the quarters, and in particular, the fateful dicing game which forces the PiI:tgava protagonists into exile, are anlogous to elements of the Rajasuya (royal consecration) sacrifice. He further argued that the interruption, in the Sabha Parvan, of Yudhi~thira's royal consecration (Rajasiiya) by Madhavacarya 1972. Also the 13th century Vidyaranya's Digvijaya, 1986 100-118.

54S ee

vol.

n~

55Heesterman 1962~ 22.

277

the rival king, Sisuprua., and SisupaIa's subsequent beheading by KI?1Ja., can only be understood as a reference to what van Buitenen calls "lqatriya" elements in the Rajasiiya rite. 56 I think van Buitenen's insight regarding analogies between ritual and narrative elements is absolutely crucial, though it requires further theoretical clarification and refinement. 57 The Rajasiiya episode, in which the rival king, SisupaIa., challenges Yudhi~!hira's consecration as regional overlord and ends up losing his head, combines the two agonistic motifs just describecL namely, the outsider who breaks into the sacrificial arena and disrupts the sacrifice, and the verbal contest. While van Buiteoen has seen the importance of the fIrSt motif, he has oot recognized the second motif as related to the flfSt in contestatory sacrificial terms. First, a physical attack is launched on the sacrifice by an outsider prince. Second, a verbal challenge to the sacrifice is offered. The verbal challenge leads to a debate about the main deity of the sacrifice. In a dramatic verbal exchange, one side, who plays the role of the "praiser," declares that divinity's glory and extols him, and the other side, who is the "reviler," insults and censures the same god. The reviler loses his head. In the Sabha Parvan episode, the debate is between the old "grandfather" Bhf~ma and the hostile king, SisupaIa Technically, the question is, who should be honored with the offering of water scented and mixed with special grains, the arghya? In other words, who is the most prominent guest? The debate evolves, however, into a lengthy account of the deeds of ~I).a., in which the question of his divinity is problematized, his caste status questioned, and the morality of his conduct as lover of the cowherd-girls (gop is) is denied.

In a Brahmll1)a text, one would expect a major Vedic god like Indra or Agni to be reviled as a representative of the sacrifice. In the Killing of Siiupala episode of the Sabha

56Van Buitenen 1972. 57Though I disagree with some of his formulations in which "baronial'" and "priestly" mentality are sharply contrasted, and especially with his anti-priestly bias.

178

Parvan, the deity attacked and defended is

Kr~Qa.

The content of the debate refers to

elements of Kr~lJa mythology which may seem, on the surface, to be quite foreign to the world of BrahaTlUllJa or Srauta texts, yet it appropriates and enlists the Briihma1)a motifs quite effectively in the service of the emerging ~I).a worship of the time. It seems that there was a public debate around the rising

~Qa cult.

While we don't

exactly know who the objectors were - the strategy of not explicitly naming the opponent seems to be typical to this discourse - the debate staged in the Siiupalavadha episode tells us what the defenders of the cult perceived to be the most sensitive issues in the debate. These are the cult of ~Qa's open eroticism, its connections with a rurallow-caste social setting and its general de-emphasis of hierarchy and boundaries. In this

pro-Kr~Qaite

piece,

these objections are voiced by SisupaIa They are, however, incorporated into the episode in a way which ultimately enhances

~Qa's

credentials as a proper "Vedic" god. The issue

is not only that Sisupila is depicted as a villain. It is even more important to see that ~Qa is made to be the functional equivalent of Indra by the very fact that he stands in the position which Indra used to occupy as the divinity to be abused during a sacrifice. The stance is not at all apologetic. Rather, the very fact that lithe others" find the

~IJa

cult

objectionable is strategically turned into an advantage. Moreover, according to the logic of the contestatory rite, the evil (piipman) is shifted to the opponents. Once this pattern is recognized, one may also recognize that the mythology of ~Qa strangely echoes some agonistic sacrificial themes. For instance,

~Qa's

fascination with

stealing milk in the company of his young male companions, and his overt.. antinomial eroticism, are.. I think., idealized and deodorized (indeed, sweetly scented) versions of the old vratya practices, where bands of young men went on cow-stealing expeditions and practiced "obscene" sexual rites.

279

m.l.6.2. The story of Dalqa's Sacrifice (M.Bh. XU. 274 and passage # 28 of Appendix I). This story is also well known and much studied. 58 It has numerous PudiQic versions. The motifs of an outsider breaking into the sacrifice and of a praising and reviling debate which takes place at the heart of the sacrificial arena are both present in this tale too. Here D~a Prajapati is the yajamiina, the gods, except Siv~ are the guests, and the outsider who breaks into the arena is Siva, nusband of SatI~ Dak~a's daughter. Dak~a does not approve of his daughter's husband, and refuses to invite his son-in-law to the grand sacrifice that he holds. One of the guests present at the rite, Dadhici, is a Pasupata, however. Dadhlci notes the absence of Siva, and worns that if Siva is not invited, the sacrifice will come to ruin. He insists that Siva must be invited right away, but D~a retorts: "I know the eleven Rudras, I do not know this Mahesvara. "59 The enraged Sat! bums herself up in the heat of her own anger. Siva's rage becomes the terrible god Virabhadra and along with MahakalI, the embodoment of Sad's anger, they appear and destroy the sacrifice. Finally Dak~a recognizes Siva's supremacy, praises him, and Siva is gi yen his share of the sacrifice. In the Da.Iq;a story the outsider is the winner and the yajamana is the looser. This

difference between the SisupaIavadha and the D~ayajiia parallels the difference in the roles of praiser and blaimer. In the SisupaIa episode the outsider king is the reviler, and so he is the one one who loses and gets beheaded. When he publicly enumerates Siva's faults, DaQ~

despite being the yajamana himself, unwittingly plays the role of the reviler, and

58Doniger Q'Aaherty 1976, 272-286, & Doniger 1988, 97ff. HiltebeiteI 1976~ 312-335. Klostermaier 1991. Hiltebeitel points out the strucrural similarities between the famous Sauptika Parvan scene, in which Asvatthaman slaughters almost all the sleeping Pindavas, and D~ats sacrifice. Since the Sauptika Parvan episode stands for total destruction .. this comparison brings out the pralaya associations of the Dak~a episode, but misses its important contestatory aspect. 59M.Bh.BORI xn, Appendix 1#28 lines 40-41.

280

thus becomes the loser. Consequently, he is beheaded just like a sacrificial animal.60 In both cases the reviler is the loser, though in the first case the reviler is the outsider and in the second, the insider. Klaus Klostennaier6 1 reads the D~a story as a legend with a real historical kernel. That kernel, he believes, was the Pasupata takeover of the important tlrtha at Kanakhala.. close to today's Hardwar. This tirtha is associated with the Vedic patriarch D~a Prajapati and is praised many times in the Mahabha.rata along with Prayaga. According to KIostermaier's reconstruction of the event, at some point the ilrtha was dominated by Vai~Qavas

who have already achieved Vedic respectibility, headed by a secterian leader

called D~a. The Pasupata Saivaites, who at that point were not yet recognized by brahmins and were excluded from Vedic sacrifices, were religious upstarts in the area and were struggling to gain influence. In this contex~ the way to gain influence was to be accepted by the brahmin establishment, in other words, to become incorporated into Vedic worship and to gain control of prestigious holy places. "l.lle Pasupatas finally enlisted the help of a local strongman, Bhairava.. and his gang of thugs, and took the place over violently.

D~a

and his companions, "the Vedic gods, were beaten and humilitaed until It

D~a was forced to publically convert to Saivism by praising Siva, and then a

"compromise" was worked out according to which Siva was from now on to get "his part of the sacrifice.

II

600ther comparisons may be made between the SisupaIa and the Dak!?a stories. Both involve a conflict between males over a female, with potential oedipal overtones. SisupaIa blames his mother's brother, Kr~I)a, for stealing his wife to be. Siva is infuriated because his wife's father will not reco~ize him as her rightful husband. While ~Qa, to SisupaIa's frustration, keeps Rukminl, Siva's beloved Sad bums herself with her own wrath. 61 Klostermaier

1985.

281

Klostennaier's identification of the specific historical context for the origination of the story mayor may not be accurate, but he is certainly right that the story addresses sectarian strife, or what I would prefer to call power struggles as they are articulated in religious, more particularly, sacrificial, tenDS. Klostemaier is mistaken, however, if he believes that the structure of a singular historical event has shaped the structure of the story as it was told in the MahGbhO.rata and retold in the PuIilJas. Rather, the pattern was already there. If anything, the historical events themselves were shaped by a culturally given pattern. for the struggle for sectarian supremacy was articulated in contestatory sacrificial terms. 62 Very much the same can be said about the killing of Sisuprua episode. Sisuprua and his former king Jarasamdha are described as devotees of Siva. Jarasandha attempted to offer a mass human sacrifice, a sacrifice of all the kings of the land, to Siva. Thus, to report Kr~IJa's success at curbing the influence of Jarasandha's alliance is definitely to report" a V ai~IJava victory." Could there be a "historical kernel" to this tale of an aggresively Saiva ruler? Perhaps, but we do not know what it is, and since the victory took place at a sacrifice, in fact it was enacted as a sacrifice~ the contestatory pattern is so obvious that the story may have lost its historically specific reference very soon after it became incorporated in the textual tradition .. and in that sense it is probably not a "direct" report of a singular historical event.

ID.1.6.3. The Verbal Duel: An integral part of both episodes is a sacrificial verbal duel. In the Mahabharata Dak~a episode, the exchange between Dadhlci and D~a is not all that lengthy. It is interesting to note, therefore, that PurfuJic versions of tlle story readily expand on this motif.

Furthermore~

Klostermaier observes that "The one element which

shows the most agreement in all the PurfuJic accounts of the Da.k~a episode is the dialogue 62KIostennaier himself mentions that in the Tamil versions of the Dak~a story, Siva plays a prominant part from the start, but he regards this as a seconqary application of the D~a story once it has become established as a major part of the Saiva tradition in a cotext where Siva was already a dominant deity. See Klostermaier 1985, 114.

282

between DadhIci and D~a. Identical verses are found in several acounts. It can be assumed that it fanned an original and important part of the original

DaIc~a

saga. It seems

to identify the core of the conflict." 63 It is equally noteworthy that all Southern manuscripts of the Sabha Parvan expand at great length on the verbal exchange between Bhr~ma and SisupaIa, especially developing Bhl~ma's praise of ~IJa into a full fledged

stotra of 1612 lines, about a quarter of the whole Parvans length.64 Thus, in both cases,

even though the reonstructed text has only a short verbal dual, the manuscript evidence shows that the verbal duel has been perceived as integral to the event by those who expanded on the text.

m.1.6.4. The Relationship of the Two Episodes: The Killing of Siiupala and Da!qa's Sacrifice are intimately connected narratives .. because they both are derived from

the contestatory sacrificial pattern. This is not to say that they are versions of lithe same" myth with "the same" underlying meaning. Rather.. a culturally given complex of motifs and meanings has been enlisted in the service of competing groups, but they have not been enlisted in quite the same way. The two episodes manipulate the outsider-insider thematics quite differently. This may partly be a result of the fact that Vi~IJu rose to the status of major god earlier than Siva, but it certainly does not boil down to this fact. Saivism glorifies Rudra-Siva, who in the Sgveda is associated with the Maruts . the mythical prototypes of the impure vratyas, the down-and-out warriors who must invade the other tribe's boundary and take upon themselves the evil of killing (papman) in order to redeem themselves. 65 Vai~lJavas glorify the god who stays out of the cosmic conflict, the god who encompasses "both sides." One may perhaps see these as two aspects or phases of

63KIostennaier 1985, 64Passage #21 of Appendix I. 65Falk 1986. 60-63.

283

the life and death cycle of the contestatory sacrifice. But regardless of how these differences started out, once they became part of the definitive myths of Vi~Qu and Siva they shaped the later theological orientation of Vai~l}.avism and Saivism. Siva became the destroyer~ Vi~lJ.u the preserver, and Saivism, not Vi~lJuism has attracted the radical forms

of Tantrisffi.

ill.I.7. The Xivamedhika Parvan's Use of the Motif.

In contrast with the V ai~lJavaite and the Saivaite refonnulations discussed above, the Yati-adhvaryu-samvada of the Aivamedhika Parvan with which we introduced our subject is non-sectarian. Furthennore, it seems to rejects aggressive confrontation in favor of verbal confrontation. It is not withollt an agen~ however. It supports Srauta-type animal sacrifices, as well as the idea that detached action is the only key to transcending the violent element which the very sustenance of life requires. This is the famous kanna-yoga doctrine of the Bhagavad GIta. Its concern is to counter the view of "heretics" like Buddhists and Jains who criticized sacrifice as ineffective and violent, and therefore it casts the heretic~ not the representative of the other sect, in the role of the reviler. This concern with the problem of sacrificial violence, and an attempt to deflect the problem through the manipulation of agonistic sacrificial motifs. is typical of the Aivamedhika Parvan as a whole. The Aivamedhika Parvan identifies the antagonist as the nastika. The heretic is he who altogether rejects the idea that sacrifice is the foundation of the socio-cosmic order, and claims that to the extent that sacrifice is that foundation, that order is nothing but a pseudo-order, an illegitimate order based on violence. The Aivamedhika Parvan takes on the heretics' challange to dharma, but at the same time softens its impact by taking the position that this challenge is nothing new, that it is simply the voice of the reviler which has always been there. This stance towards the challenge of an emerging ideology

284

amounts to constructing a kind of "historical" narrative about this ideology. albeit a historical narrative which denies its ultimate validity.66 Cultural change is often achieved by creating new representations of the past and embedding the present in these representations. In the Mahabharata" the representation of the past plays a crucial role. In section m.2 we shall deal with an Aivamedhika Parvan episode, the story of The B,-haspati-SaTfl.varta Rivalry, where a radically different, foundational past is evoked to construct a contestatory model of sacrifice. But this is a relatively minor example. The myth of the struggle between the gods (devas) and the counter-gods (asuras) is the cosmological paradigm corresponding to the agonistic ritual paradigm of sacrifice. In the Mahabharata, the claim is repeatedly made that the human battle at Ku~etra was a transposition from heaven to earth of the ongoing battle between the devas and the asuras which has been going on forever. This is, in my view an interpretive statement made within the Mahabharata tradition about its own story, an invitation to read the whole Mahabharata in tenns of sacrificial conte.c;tation. While some of the material contained in the epic may not lend itself to such a reading, there are many important narrative elements which support it. The Mahabharata has a number of key episodes involving sacrifice proper. We have just discussed the contestatory elements in the Sabha Parvan's Rajasiiya episode (the Siiupalavadha episode). We mentioned that the whole Mahabharata text is represented as narrated during an agonistic sacrifice Janamejaya's snake sacrifice. As to the Aivamedhika Parvan, its opening episode, the story of The Brhaspati-SalJlvana Rivalry, is a tale of a sacrificial contest of yore. This

66Compare the claim of the anti-Zionist Jewish ultra-orthodox group NetureyKarta that the Zionists are really Nazis and that both Nazis and Zionists, as well as other historical forces which they perceive as enemies of Jadaism, for instance Chritsianity, are all embodiments of "AmaIek~" a mythic reification of the tribe by that name that according to the Hebrew Bible~ attacked and tried to destroy the Israelites during their wandering in the desert.

285

story serves as a prelude to the main event of the Parvan~

Yudhi~thira's

grand horse

sacrifice, no doubt a highly potent contestatory ritual. Thus, there are at least these four major sacrificial contests in the Mahabharata - the Rajasuy~ the ASvamedha~ Marotta's sacrifice and Janamejaya's snake sacrifice. Each points to the others and reflects on the others. Together they support a key trope, the comparison of the grand and terrible battIe of Ku~etra to a "sacrifice." This trope is the foundation of the ritual-oriented discourse within the Mahiibharata. 67 No doubt, the defmitive scholarly statements on the "ritual of battle" trope have been made by Biardeau and HiltebeiteL Biardeau has shown the centrality of the myth of the periodic cosmic destruction, the pralaya, and of the embryo symbolism, to the

Mahahhiirata. 68 Hiltebeitel pointed out that this imagery resonates with sacrificial symbolism.69 My interpretation differs from that of Biardeau and Hiltebeitel in two interrelated respects.

First~

while I agree that much of the world of the Mahahharata

revolves around the tenn "sacrifice," I believe the multi-valence of that term, and in particular the struggles to define the place of violence and contest within it, are more important than has been realized. Thus, and this is the second difference, I introduce history where my predecessors have perceived only system. My reading is enabled by the recognition of the pivotal fact that the Mahabharata's sacrificial discourse often assumes an idea of a hoary pas~ a past even more ancient than the time of the battle between the Kauravas and the Pfu].c;lavas, in which the grandest sacrificial contests took place. The epic constructs its sacrificial discourse around the tension between at least three kinds of time. There is the very remote past, so remote that it is paradigmatic of all reality. This is the

67S ee

Doniger 1986, 17.

68Biardeau 1971, 31, 75ff. 69Hiltebeitel 1976, 299-353.

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primordial battle between the gods and the counter gods. This absolute past is mediated by the past of the battle of Kurulqietra, a past that partakes of the structure of the absolute past but marks a radical break. or a departure from that pattern, too. Last there is the present of Janamejaya, which includes by implication all later receivers of the tradition. 70 In the

Aivamedhika Parvan, these tensions and constructions of pasts are selectively used in order to construct a sacrifice-oriented discourse for its own present. Even the short Debate Between the Wandering Ascetic and the Sacrificing Priest demonstrates that the ritual-oriented discourse is full of tensions. Is the sacrifice violence? Indeed~

Heesterman has come to the conclusion that the Mahabharata is "a tale of

(agonistic) sacrifice gone wrong," an imaginative critique of agonistic ritual and its inherent connection with violence. 71 This follows from his reading of the Mahiihharata as a "classical" text (in his terms). To him, the epic criticizes and rejects the grand myths and institutions of a bygone era. I, again" think the situation is much more complex. The agonistic paradigm is very much alive in the Mahabharata, in fac~ it is foundational to it, though it is certainly also fiercely attacked and debated in it. This is especially true for the

Aivamedhika Parvan. In this Parvan. the agonistic paradigm of sacrifice and the world view which it stands for become the subject of a verbal contest. However, this should not make us lose sight of the even more important fact that the successful completion of the horse sacrifice in the Aivamedhika Parvan means the restitution of the royal line of Bharata and the re-establishment of dharma, albeit an inferior dhanna of a not-so-absolute present. Sacrifice. and its continuities and discontinuities with a projected absolute past, is

700ne must be very careful not to make any facile identifications between this Mahabharata construct and what we have come to call Itthe early Vedic period. The Kuru- Pancila kingdom which Witzel has reconstructed" and the king Pa.r1k$it of that realm, are not the same as the Kuru kingdom of the epic and P . i t of the epic. These are literary constructs of a later period. 1t

71Heestennan 1993, 27.

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both the foundation of the emergent new order, the establishment of which is announced through the proclamation of the successful completion of a Horse Sacrifice, and the problem at its heart.

In short, I suggest that the sacrifice-oriented semantic scheme underlying the Parvan has to do not with a simple rejection of Srauta rituals, but with an attempt to revive them, perhaps after a period of decline, and in a very different milieu calling for new interpretations. We are dealing with a process of ideological change through reconstitution of the past. The theme of the miraculous revival of the only remnant of the coyalline, Abhimanyu's still-born child Parlk~it, is absolutely essential here. This human link makes possible, in spite of a profound sense of rupture, some kind of continuity between the present of the epic's receiver, King Janamejay~ himself a grand agonistic sacrificer of sorts, and the Absolute Past of his grand ancestors, the Bharatas. This miraculous revival is recounted in the Aivamedhika Parvan. It takes place just when the horse-sacrifice begins, and is laden with dllq!i symbolism with which we shall later deal in detail. I enter into speculations about the precise date of this Vedic revival only with great trepidation. It seems that there were more than one such revival in the history of South Asia. From the epigraphic and numismatic evidence collected by Kashikar and Parpola regarding the performance of Srauta rituals in different periods in South Asia,72 we can glean some information and make some very tentati ve observations (since the evidence is not exhaustive). During the Maurya period there is no record of royal sacrifices. Asoka had forbidden animal sacrifices altogether. 73 Pusyamitr~ the founder of the Suilga dynasty, revived animal sacrifices. In the 2nd and 1st century B.C.E., both Rajasiiyas and ASvamedhas

72See Kashikar and Parpola 1983; for Kerala, see Raghava Varier 1983. 73Kulke and Rothermund 1986, 66, 71.

288

definitely were performed in (present day)

Andhr~

Bihar, Rajasthan and Uttar Pradesh,

and possibly also in Tamil Nadu and Kerala. Even a Jain king, Kharavela, performed the Rajasiiya in the lst century B.C. in Andhra. Equally interesting is the performance of an ASvamedha in honor of BaIadeva and vasudeva in the end of the 1st century B.e.E. in Rajasthan. After the beginning of the Christian Era there seems to be a "dark period" for which we have no inscriptional evidence of the performance of Srauta sacrifices. Suddenly, in the 4th century, royal sacrifices return.

Samudragup~

the second king of the Gupta

dynasty and a great conqueror, states in an inscription that on his round of conquest (digvijaya) he did not harm the rival kings, only defeated them and then released and reinstated them. Then he celebrated the horse sacrifice.

Kumaragup~

his grandson,

praised his grandfather as "the renewer of the horse sacrifice.74 In the 4th century C.E. we have evidence of Srauta sacrifices being performed in Andhr~ Bihar. Madhya Pradesh and Tamil Nadu. There is, however, no record of Rajasuyas, only Yajapeyas and ASvamedhas for this period. Up to the end of the Gupta period victorious kings sponsored grand "Vedic" sacrifices. From this admittedly partial information I would venture to draw two tentative conclusions. The most likely context for a Vedic revival which might have prompted the revision of the tradition and a polemics such as is found in the A.fvamedhika Parvan seems to me either the Suitga dynasty (185 -73 B.C.E.) which revived royal sacrifices after their decline in the Maarya period,75 or the Gupta dynasty, which again revived the practice in the fourth century C.E. after a period of inactivity. Whatever these attempts at specific dating are worth, I am confident in my assertion that the Aivamedhika Parvan is

74Kulke and Rothennund 1986. 86-87. Could the absence of Rajasiiyas in this later period have something to do with a belief that Rajasuyas are more likely to deteriorate into violence, like the Mahabharata's Rajasiiya? 75Kulke and Rothennund 1986, 71.

289

the product of a group who at least supponed and strove for. and perhaps even attempted

and achieved~ a revival of royal Vedic sacrifices.

m.2. A Contestatory Textual Relationship: The Story of The

Brhaspati .. Sa11lvarta Rivalry (XIV.4-IO) and the Discourse on the Enemy Withi" (XIV.II-I3).

m.2.!. The deliberate juxtaposition of radically different discourses. Before we look at more explicit verbal contests? it will be useful to look at the general tendency of the Parvan to juxtapose contrasting discourses. The first two consecutive units of the Aivamedhika Parvan are a good example of this textual technique. The context for both episodes is

Yudhi~thlra's

grief over the terrible destruction

wrought by the battle of Ku~etra, and another attack of his recurring urge to abandon his duties as king and become a renouncer. This frame-situation refers the audience to the dilemma of action and renunciation, which is at the heart of the Bhagavadglta. The tension between the world views represented by the pair of units in question both dramatizes and further articulates the meaning of this dilemma.

ID.2.2. The Story of The Br/taspati-Sa1J1varta RivaLry. After some coaxing on the part of Kr~lJa and

Vyas~

the despondent Yudhi~thira

agrees to undertake the Asvamedha. which is his immediate duty as a victorious king. But a problem arises which causes further delay, a practical concern, namely, where will the

290

money come from? After all, the royal horse-sacrifice is an expensive affair, and the king and the country have been impoverished by the war. 76 The introduction of this worldly concem ywhich is immediately alleviated by the wise old Vyas~ effects the move from the grief and doubt-saturated scene of Yudhi~thira's collapse to the lighthearted story of the Brhaspati-Sal]1varta Rivalry (or Marotta's

Sacrifice, M.Bh. BORI XIVA-IO). There is no need to worry, says Vyasa, for an immense treasure lies in the HimaJ.aya, and this treasure will quite nicely provide for the coming horse-sacrifice. It was left there by King Marotta of yore after the completion of

his grand horse-sacrifice.

Yudhi~thira,

of course, inquires about Marotta and his sacrifice,

and the story of that sacrifice and the priestly and royal rivalries which were enacted and fought through it is narrated. Narratologically this is noteworthy. There is a practical difficulty - an expensive sacrifice must be performed - but instead of resolving the problem through action aimed at getting the money, we are led into an apparent maze of digressions brought about by doubts and deliberations regarding sacrifice itself. The entertaining quality of the Marotta tale may well be a device to seduce the broken-hearted king into some wholesome laughter, to help him move through the stages of mourning. Nevenheless, the predominant tone is serious. After all,

Yudhi~thira's

anticipated horse-sacrifice, to which this whole Parvan is devoted. will not be possible without the wealth left over from this sacrifice of antiquity. Marutta's sacrifice provides Yudhi~thira's

sacrifice not only with material resources, but also with a ritual pedigree

76The conjunction of impoverished kingdoms, political pressure to wage large scale wars in order to obtain the booty, and political compulsion to undertake grand state rituals is not a fantastic one. It has been attested historically -- see Spencer 1983. The fantastic and lighthearted Brhaspati- Sarpvana tale, and the solution it provides to Yudhi~thira's trouble have a fairy- tale qualityy however. On one level, it may be read as a royal wish-fulfillment fantasy.

291

which insures its power and efficacy. It took place during the second. T reta Yuga. a superior cosmic ages when dhanna still "had three feet" and when men's life-span was much longer. The events of the Treta Yuga must be taken quite seriously. in as much as they are so much closer to an absolute past.77 As if this were not enough. Marutta's sacrifice took place at the navel of the world. on top of sacred mount

Meru~

on the

Northern slopes of the Himalaya. 78 Moreover. king Marutta was so virtuous and powerful that the gods themselves - as paradoxical as it may seem - officiated in his sacrifice as lowly priests. And finaIly~ the excess of wealth which his sacrifice produced is the best proof of its power or efficacy. In fact .. this sacrifice signifies excess and abundance, it represents the fountain of wealth on which a successful social body must rest. Let us have a look at the story. Like many legendary sacrifices. Marotta's sacrifice was primarily a contest, and the force driving the protagonists to action in the episode is rivalry (spardhii). Marotta performed his sacrifice in order to challenge the sovereignty of Indra, the king of the gods who was something of an upstan at the time. Indra had just vanquished his sibling rivals, the aSllras .. and ritually established his legitimacy as king of the gods by employing the divine priest Brhaspati as his royal chaplain. Just as this fragile state of divine political equilibrium had been established,

Marutt~

a mere human, began to

play the role of counter-god (asura) by challenging Indra's ritual monopoly.79 The rivalries among sacrificers (yajamanas) in the story are paralleled by a rivalry between officiating priests. The great sage (r$l) AJigiras had two sons, equal in power. We have just mentioned that the elder son, Brhaspati, had managed to secure for himself

77The tenn "absolute past" is used by Bakhtin in "Epic and Novel" 1981. 78Eliade's axis mundi. Eliade 1958, 367-387. 79Marutta's family background certainly makes him the right candidate for the role of ritual rival, since his father, A vi~it, had also performed a hundred horse sacrifices, thereby challenging the supremacy of Indra-Satakratu.

292

the position of Indra's royal chaplain (purohita). In the process, he had ousted his younger brother

y

Sarpvart~

who in despair abandoned all his possessions and became a naked

mendicant and a devotee of the god Siva Now Indra began to fear the growing power of the ambitious human king so he made Brhaspati pledge that he would never officiate for Marutta. Marutta, therefore, had no choice but to look for another priest. Following the mischievous sage Narada's advice, Marutta, bearing a corpse on his back, approached the long-forgotten Sarp.varta whom he found on the threshold of the city of \'arfuJasL and it soon became apparant that Sarp.varta had no qualms about forsaking his vows for the sake of the opportunity to get back at his hated brother. The pact proved to be a success. When Brhaspati heard about his younger brother's new job, he was incensed, and changed his mind about his commitment to never officiate for anyone but Indra. If someone was going to officiate for Marotta, it would have to be himself.

Indr~

to appease Brhaspati's wrath, was forced to change his mind, and agreed to

let Brhaspati officiate for Marotta.

Marutt~

however. did not yield to the temptation of

getting a more prestigious priest, and stuck by his ally Sarpvarta even in the face of Indra's threats. This exceptional steadfastness defeated Indra and won his favor.so Indra was forced to recognize Marutta's sacrifice by attending it not only as the di vine guest and Soma drinker that he usually is. but also as an assistant priest (sadasya)y whose tasks are to prepare the materials and to distribute food. In other words. ~[arutta had subordinated Indra Assured that the wealth left over from Marotta's sacrifice will provide for his own ASvamedha..

Yudhi~thira's

financial worries are now set to rest, and he declares himself

fully resolved to prepare for the great horse sacrifice. But again. the progress of the action

8°In stories such as these, there is no distinction between defeating a rival and winning his favor.

293

towards resolution in the perfonnance of the horse sacrifice is blocked. Now it is

~lJa

who bids Yudhi~thlra to stop and consider one more perspective on the theme of sacrifice

as contest.

Kr~lJats

ID.2.3.

Discourse on the Enemy Within (M.Bh. BORI XIV.II-I3).

This unit~ which immediately follows the Marutta episode, should in my view be read in juxtaposition with it. It is a version of the well known (?gveda story of the battle of the king of the gods Indra with the counter-god (asura) Vrrra. The battle of Indra with Vrtra has rightfully been described as "the basic myth of Vedic religion."St The world of sacrificial contests which the Marotta episode describes is closely related to this mythic complex, and

~lJa's

story clearly continues to address this common stock of culturally

received themes. Kr~lJ.a's story, however, isn't just another version of the myth. Rather, it is a subversion of the paradigm which the myth usually stands for, and which I call "contestatory" or "agonistic." Once this is understood, one can appreciate that its juxtaposition with the story of The B rhaspati-Sa1Jlvarta Rivalry is not arbitrary. Long ago, Vrtra pervaded the Earth and seized the (corresponding) realm, scent. Angry, Indra hurIed his vajra weapon into the earth, but V rtra escaped and entered the Waters, and seized its realm, taste, too; Indra then hurIed his vajra into the Waters~ but V rtra entered Light and seized its realm, forro t too; Indra hurled the Vajra into Light, but Vrtra entered Air, and seized its realm, touch. too. (And so forth: from Air and touch to Ether and sound) After being chased away from all five elements, Vrtra entered Indra himself, and took over that realm. Indra was overcome by a great delusion, but fortUnately, he heeded the advice of the sage Vasi~tha, and used his invisible vajra to slay "the enemy in his own body.

(M.Bh.BORI XIV. I 1.7-19)

81 Kuiper

1975.

294

And the "real," or allegorical meaning of the story is given right away. Vrtra and Indra are really Death and brahman respectively: There is no doubt, King! These two, brahman and Death~ reside respectively in the self. Invisible, they make battle with each other over (control of) beings.

(M.Bh.BORI XIV. 13.4) The battIe is near at hand~ which must be fought alone with one's own mind... in it, there is no use for arrows, nor for dependents, nor for relatives ... (M.Bh.BORI XIV.12.11c-12)

ill.2.4. A Contestatory Textual Relationship. As they are placed in the Asvamedhika Parvan, the story of the B rhaspatiSamvana Rivalry and the Discourse on the Enemy Within stand in an antagonistic-

dialogic, or contestatory, relationship. A contrast is suggested between the world views which they represent. In both units the image of strife is deployed. Even though we do not know the exact form of the Mahiibhiirata text when this part was composed, we can safely assume that the trope of strife was a "given" of the received Mahiibharata tradition into which these two units entered, for no matter how we read

it~

the Mahiibhiirata is a story about a battle.

Both units should be read as a reflexive statement about the problem of the Mahiibhiirata, which is metonymically represented through the image of strife. While each story deploys the trope of strife to different ends and in a different way, their juxtaposition is a textual dramatization of Yudhi~thira's dilemma. Between these two tales, told respecti vely by Vyasa and Kr~Qa, the meaning of the root metaphor of strife is contested. In both units, strife and sacrifice are intimately related concepts. The connection is obvious in the story of The Brhaspati- SaTJZvana Rivalry where sacrifice is the paradigmatic form of power-struggle. The Discourse of the Enemy Within, on the other

195 hand~

does not actually use the term "sacrifice." yet it can only be read as representing a

typical line of anti-sacrificial polemic. The myth of the conflict between Indra and Vrtra was the basic cosmological-cosmogonic myth of the Vedic period, and was so profoundly rooted in and associated with sacrificial practice in the Vedic texts., that just to invoke it means to invoke these concepts of cosmos and sacrifice. 82 The Discourse on the Enelny

Within posits a hierarchy of being in which the material, physical or external is inferior. It suggests that the truer and better sacrifice would be an internal act. While it does not explicitly call for the abandonment of the sacrificial cult in favor of asceticism and meditational practices, the availability of such an option was a given fact of the times. This is one of numerous cases when the intertextual or dialogical force need not be fully spelled out because the naratee (Yuclhi~thira and Janamejaya) as well as the historical audience for this Parvan (consisting mostly of brahmins and of brahmin supporting kings) is assumed to be sufficiently familiar with the context. The two units posit radically different world views, which are stated through a radically different interpretation of what sacrifice means. The starting point of both is that sacrifice is a fonn of strife. The B.rhaspati-Sa1J1vana Episode takes place in a universe in which plural subjects exist side by side, and their relationship is an open-ended struggle over power. Sacrifice is the contest par excellence, it is the key to power, but it is never separate from other forms of power struggle, even the use of crude force. Thus, here sacrifice is an essentially public act. The Discourse on the Enemy Within also evokes the image of a struggle, and since struggle is nonnally associated with ritual

sacrifice~

the

elision of sacrifice is the rhetorical point here. Since Hstrife" is what "sacrifice" stands for, why not address the "real" meaning directly, strife? A translation is being made here. In the process of "translation," however, the sense is turned upside-down, or rather, outside-

82Kuiper 1975.

/

296

in. The "real" meaning of what is nonnally thought to be external

(sacrifice~

represented as being internal. Internal struggle is not between discrete

strife) is

agents~

it is a battle

with the "enemy within," which has no separate reality. The real problem~ the "enemy". if you will, is desire (kiima), and as long as onefights desire~ treating it as something external, one will be defeated by it. In the world of the Brhaspati-SaT!Zvarta Episode, contest and struggle is the source of all life. It is productive. It creates abundance. In the Discourse on the Enemy

~Vithin~

in contrast, struggle is not valued for its own sake. The struggle is to stop all struggles. The struggle is totally unproductive. It doesn't even aim at resolution - it aims at its own negation. Both discourses attach themselves to the prestige and authority of sacrifice. Yet, they don't do it for the same purpose. The Discourse on the Enemy Within starts with the trope of strife, apparently deferring to the authority it possesses with the Mahiibhiirata's audience, but it really subverts it and advocates tyaga instead. The "essential" thing about sacrifice, what can be still useful about the concept from the point of view of the Discourse

on the Enemy Within, is not the rivalry aspect of sacrifice (spardhii) but renunciation of the attachments aspect of saciifice (tyaga).83 "The struggle" is only a struggle to end all strife and to achieve the "real" sacrifice of detachment. The relationship between the two units is not symmetrical. The Discourse on the Enemy Within is ex.plicitly directed at another text. It subverts the world view which the Brhaspati-Sa1!1varta Episode represents. To understand the force that this episode has in its Mahiibhiirata context requires understanding its critical stance toward the competitive or agonistic paradigm of sacrifice.

83"Rejecting external possessions (bahyarp dravyam) does not lead to attainment, Bharata!" (M.Bh. BOR! XIV.13.1ab).

297

From the point of view of the Discourse on the Enemy Within, both the rivalry of Brhaspati and SaITlvarta and that of Indra and Marotta appear quite absurd, a parody of desire-driven results-oriented action. From this point of view, Indra becomes a kind of y

clown though (or rather because) he is totally unaware that he is ridiculous. The y

y

Discourse on the Enemy Within thus subordinates the B rhaspati-Samvana Episode and

the discursive realm for which it stands. In contrast, the story of The Brhaspati-SaT/lvarta Rivalry seems to lack reflexivity or irony. It requires the mirror of the Discourse on the Enemy Within in order to enter the cornic mode. It also does not appear to be involved in any contemporary debate. Indeed, this episode is presented as a myth of pristine beginnings, and thus. direct participation in contemporary debates would be unfeasible. The story is full of intertextual references to middle

Ve·l!~

narratives. The literature of this period abounds in stories about

rivalries both between sacrificers (divine and human) and between priests, and in stories about junior competitors who manage to get the better of their seniors through ritual means. 84 Falk's work has made it clear that in the middle Vedic period such rivalries were often structured around matters of inheritance. In a period when private ownership and social status was becoming increasing fixed by birth. surviving agonistic practices provided a loophole for individuals who were excluded and dispossessed. The Brhaspati-Sarpvarta rivalry is continuous with these Briihma1)a narratives and well situated in the hoary past that these narratives evoke. Naturally, a report from the past would be ignorant of presentday debates. However. I think this blissful ignorance is only a stance. The story of The Brlzaspati-Sa1!1varta Rivalry is not innocent of the existence of alternative discourses

radically challenging its construction of the world. After all .. various strategies are possible

84Koskikallio 1995 provides many examples of such stories.

298

in a polemic situation. One can anticipate criticism, and offer some resistance, without overtly recognizing the other's position. In some situations, to pretend to ignore an opponent's position is a very effective way of denying this position's legitimacy. In my view, this is what is going on in the story of The Br!zaspati-SaTJlvana Rivalry. To argue from silence is perilous, but fortunately, the silence in this case is not total. There are clues which support a reading of the Marotta episode as a covert polemic. Sarpvana's figure is chronologically ambivalent. He evokes both the vratya figure of middle Vedic literature, and the Pasupata, or rather, the stereotype of this exotic category of Saiva ascetic, which is likely to be contemporary with the production of our text. When frrst approached at the gate of VarfuJasi by the corps-bearing king Marutt~ Sarpvarta acts like a deranged person. He heaps insults on the king and soils him with impure body substances such as spit and urine. He even claims to be mentally deranged. These details suggest that he is not just any Saivaite renouncer, but more specifically an ascetic belonging to the Pasupata order. This interesting order is often been described by the admittedly vague term "lefthanded." Its founding text, the Pasupata Siitra of LakuHs~ describes the ritual regimen of the cult. Scholarly consensus places the date of Lakullsa around the first half of the second century C.E. and there are reasons to consider a date as early as the first century C.E .. By Gupta times there were Pasupata temples in most parts of India, so that their rise to power corresponds with what is probably the later fonnative period of the Mahiibha.rata. 85 The most important and conspicuous aspect of the sect's regimen is the practice of "courting tl

dishonor by disreputable behavior such as making amorous gestures in the presence of strange women or acting as if devoid of judgment. This behavior was however feigned by the pasupatas. Beyond the "imitation of god" - the emulation of Siva's behavior as

85Lorenzen 1972, 179-180; 182.

299

described in a myth which castes him as the divine model for the Pasupatas 86 this strange y

fonn of asceticism was practiced in order to achieve two essentially extent contradictory, goals.

Firs~

distinct~

and to some

the adept supposedly transferred his bad karma to those

who unjustly censured him (because they did not realize that he was only putting on an act) and took from them in return their own good karma.

Second~

the adept was able to

cultivate detachment by practicing indifference to the opinions of others.87 The frrst explanation follows the logic of agonistic ritual, which treats guilt/evil as inevitable and concrete substance which cannot be completely eliminated, only transferred to another party. The second explanation only makes sense in the world of the Discourse on the

Enemy Within, in which evil is believed to be ultimately unreal. Now whether or not the real purpose of the outlandish practices of the historical Pasupatas was to attain

power~

I do not know. Whether and to what extent there is a direct

historical continuity between the vratyas and sattrins of the middle Vedic period and the Pasupatas of the first centuries of the Christian era is another interesting question, which cannot be addressed here. For our purpose, the answer to these questions is irrelevant. All we know for sure is that the figure of SaIp.varta in the story of The Brhaspati-Sa1?1vana

Rivalry evokes some stereotypes of the pasupatas. By doing so, it betrays the lateness of the episode, despite its self-presentation as occurring in a previous cosmic age. It also betrays a polemical concern. To the prevailing concept of renunciation as detachment, it opposes and affirms a much more archaic concept of going forth into the wilderness to practice tapas and gain power. Sarpvarta has given up his inherited priestly status and has gone forth as a wandering ascetic to practice tapas in order to gain the same power which he failed to attain through

86Doniger 1973, 172-209; Doniger 1976,302-320. 87Lorenzen 1972, 184-188.

300

practicing his priestly role. From the point of view of the Marotta story, there is nothing wrong with that objective in itself. Nor is there any contradiction between one means and the other. On the contrary, Marotta's effective tapas eventually brings him success in the sacrificial arena too. The pervasive influence of the ethos of total renunciation at the time of the composition of this story, a disturbing fact for those whose world view and lifestyle centered around the institution of sacrifice, is both addressed and contained in this story. This is achieved by interpreting this social-cultural fact in tenus which are percei ved as internal to the sacrificial tradition. Renunciation is accounted for within the parameters of the story's own universe in which power, tejas t is the measure of things. The renunciate is reduced to the ascetic, one who practices tapas as a parallel means of getting the same sort of power as sacrifice. The fundamental challenge raised by the radical renouncers, those who renounce all that the tenn kannan stands for - sacrifice as well as action - is effectively evaded or deflected by this story.88 A similar pattern of deflecting the Buddhist challenge by recognizing it, yet explaining it in tenns of the agonistic paradigm, can be detected in the common casting of the Buddha in the role of an avatar of Vi~IJu , who came to the world to delude the too pious demons. Despite its evasion of overt polemics, the story of The B,-haspati Sa'!lvarta Rivalry is a strong statement. It affirms and supports Vedic sacrifice, specifically the large sacrificial contests typically perfonned by kings. This is achieved, however, not by directly criticizing alternative options, but by asserting that sacrifice is grounded in an Absolute Past, by a "demonstration" of its efficacy as a source of life and well-being, and by treating the views who crticize sacrifice dismissively. Thus, neither unit is locked within its own discursive world. Each mobilizes the difference between itself and the other, and at the same time attempts to appropriate

88S ee

Doniger O'Flaherty 1971.

301

elements from the other discourse for its own purposes. But the stance which each takes toward the ideology which the other stands for is quite different. The Discourse on the

Enemy Within aggressively engages with the other's position while the story of The

Brhaspati- Sa1J1.varta Rivalry offers firm

resistance~ but avoids overt confrontation. 89

ill.3. Inner Textual Interpretation: The Mongoose Unit (XIV.92-96)

m.3.1. A Chain of Stories The last part of the Aivamedhika Parvan, the Mongoose Unit (M.Bh. BORI XIV.92-96), is a chain of stories. The first of these, the Mongoose's Story

(Nakuiopakhyanam. M.Bh. BOR! XIV.93) is told at Janamejaya's request. Itself a comment on the preceeding unit, the Description of the Horse Sacrifice, the story as it stands leaves Janamejaya dissatisfied. His insistent questioning results in a dialogue

89 A similar organizational principle has been described by James Fitzgerald in his study of the Moqadhanna, or the "Mok~a Anthology/' a part of the Santi Parvan. One of Fitzgerald's major concerns is the search for what he regards as "evidence of a redactor's intellectual contribution. While for most of the materials included in the Parvan, Fitzgerald was able to find little such evidence (Fitzgerald 1980~ 297-305) he finds that the last ten units of the anthology have been deliberately organized around the problematic of niv[1ti (or mok~a) versus prav.mi (or dharma). Of these ten units~ only one explicitly juxtaposes these modes of life and addresses the difference between them as a dilemma. The other nine units all address the question in one way or another, without referring to alternative views on the subject or to the other units in this little collection. Thus, each sub-unit in itself may appear to be unaware of the alternatives. However, these units are arranged and framed in a way that does call attention to a dilemma. The pattern which Fitzgerald finds is roughly (to simplify a very complex analysis) an alternation between an affirmation of the possibility of achieving mo~a through following one's svadhanna with equanimity, and an insistence that total renunciation is a necessary condition for attainment. This dilemma is also embodied in the narrative, through a cluster of royal figures who are the interlocutors in the various dialogues and who are all named "Janaka." The most famous Janaka is probably the king of Videha, who is often depicted as liberated even as he rules (Fitzgerald 1980, 305319). II

302

between Janamejaya and VaisaIppayana (M.Bh. BORI XIV.94-96) in the course of which three more stories are adduced by Vaisa.q1payana in order to explain the Mongoose's Story. Vaisarppayana makes some short remarks after he tells each of these additional stories but the stories themselves are much more suggestive of possible meanings than Vaisarppayana's comments allow for. I will argue in this section that the three additional stories themselves function as a form of successive interpretations to or comments on the Mongoose's Story. I refer to the Mongoose's Story as it stands together with its introduction (M.Bh. BORI XIV.92) and the ensuing dialogue consisting of three more stories as the Mongoose Unit.

In fact, the textual mechanism of one story commenting on another is quite common in the Mahabharata. The fact may seem so obvious that it has not, to the best of my knowledge, been analysed. When this happens, the open-endedness of the first story is somewhat delimited by the second story. The second story narrows down the first story's possible readings by saying "this is what it is about.1I But then again, the inherent openendedness of the second story may in tum amplify the open-endedness of the resulting complex unit. This is, I think, very much the case in The Mongoose Unit. The overall story-complex raises at least as many questions as it answers.90 This interpretive logic of expansion is not unique to the Mongoose Unit. Rather, it is quite typical of what I have called the Mahabharata's "aesthetics of expansion."

ill.3.2. An Epilogue to a "Happy End" The unit immediately preceding the Mongoose Unity the lengthy description of the horse-sacrifice (M.Bh. BORI XIV.70-91), is no doubt the narrative heart of the Parvan as a 9O'fhe difficulty of clinching the matter by a direct statement of "what it all means" may be demonstrated by the fact that although each of these "secondary," interpretive stories is accompanied with some direct interpretive comments, the manuscripts are very much at variance at these points.

303

practicing his priestly role. From the point of view of the Marutta story, there is nothing wrong with that objective in itself. Nor is there any contradiction between one means and the other. On the contrary, Marotta's effective tapas eventually brings him success in the sacrificial arena too. The pervasive influence of the ethos of total renunciation at the time of the composition of this story, a disturbing fact for those whose world view and lifestyle centered around the institution of sacrifice, is both addressed and contained in this story. This is achieved by interpreting this social-cultural fact in terms which are perceived as internal to the sacrificial tradition. Renunciation is accounted for within the parameters of the story's own universe in which power, tejas, is the measure of things. The renunciate is reduced to the ascetic, one who practices tapas as a parallel means of getting the same sort of power as sacrifice. The fundamental challenge raised by the radical renouncers, those who renounce all that the term /carman stands for - sacrifice as well as action - is effectively evaded or deflected by this story. 13 A similar pattern of deflecting the Buddhist challenge by recognizing it, yet explaining it in terms of the agonistic paradigm, can be detected in the common casting of the Buddha in the role of an avatar of Vi~lJu , who came to the world to delude the too pious demons. Despite its evasion of overt polemics, the story of The Brhaspoti Saf!'Lvarta Rivalry is a strong statement. It affrrms and supports Vedic sacrifice, specifically the large sacrificial contests typically performed by kings. This is achieved, however, not by directly criticizing alternative options, but by asserting that sacrifice is grounded in an Absolute Pas4 by a Itdemonstration" of its efficacy as a source of life and well-being, and by treating the views who crticize sacrifice dismissively. Thus, neither unit is locked within its own discursive world. Each mobilizes the difference between itself and the other, and at the same time attempts to appropriate

13See Doniger O'FIaherty 1971.

304

elements from the other discourse for its own purposes. But the stance which each takes toward the ideology which the other stands for is quite different. The Discourse on the

Enemy Within aggressively engages with the other's position while the story of The Brhaspati- Saf!lvarta Rivalry offers fmn resistance, but avoids overt confrontation. 14

14A similar organizational principle has beeb described by James Fitzgerald in his study of the Molqadharma, or the "Mo~a Anthology," a part of the Santi Parvan. One of Fitzgerald's major concerns is the search for what he regards as "evidence of a redactor's intellectual contribution. While for most of the materials included in the Parvan, Fitzgerald was able to find little such evidence (Fitzgerald 1980,297-305) he finds that the last ten units of the anthology have been deliberately organized around the problematic of nivrtti (or mo~a) versus pravrtti (or dharma). Of these ten units, only one explicitly juxtaposes these modes of life and addresses the difference between them as a dilemma. The other nine units all address the question in one way or another, without referring to alternative views on the subject or to the other units in this little collection. Thus, each sub-unit in itself may appear to be unaware of the alternatives. However, these units are arranged and framed in a way that does call attention to a dilemma The pattern which Fitzgerald fmds is roughly (to simplify a very complex analysis) an alternation between an affrrmation of the possibility of achieving mo~a through following one's svadharma with equanimity, and an insistence that total renunciation is a necessary condition for attainment. This dilemma is also embodied in the narrative, through a cluster of royal figures who are the interlocutors in the various dialogues and who are all named "Janaka" The most famous Janaka is probably the king of Videha, who is often depicted as liberated even as he rules (Fitzgerald 1980, 305319). If

305

ill.3. Inner Textual Interpretation: The Mongoose Unit (XIV.92-96)

m.3.1. A Chain of Stories The last part of the Aivamedhika Parvan, the Mongoose Unit (M.Bh. BOR! XIV.92-96), is a chain of stories. The first of these, the Mongoose's Story (Nakulopa/chyiinam, M.Bh. BORI XIV.93) is told at Janamejaya's request. Itself a

comment on the preceeding uni4 the Description o/the Horse Sacrifice., the story as it stands leaves Janamejaya dissatisfied. His insistent questioning results in a dialogue between Janamejaya and Vaisarppayana (M.Bh. BORI XIV.94-96) in the course of which three more stories are adduced by Vaisarppayana in order to explain the Mongoose's Story. Vaisarppayana makes some short remarks after he tells each of these additional stories but the stories themselves are much more suggestive of possible meanings than Vaisarppayana's comments allow for. I will argue in this chapter that the three additional stories themselves function as a form of successive interpretations to or comments on the Mongoose's Story. I refer to the Mongoose's Story as it stands together with its introduction (M.Bh. BORI XIV.92) and the ensuing dialogue consisting of three more stories as the Mongoose Unit.

In fact. the textual mechanism of one stroy commenting on another is quite common in the Mahiibhiirata. The fact may seem so obvious that it has not, to the best of my knowledge, been analysed. When this happens, the open-endedness of the first story is somewhat delimited by the second story. The second story narrows down the first story's possible readings by saying "this is what it is about." But then again, the inherent openendedness of the second story may in turn amplify the open-endedness of the resulting complex unit. This is, I think., very much the case in The Mongoose Unit. The overall

306 story-complex raises at least as many questions as it answers. l This interpretive logic of expansion is not unique to the Mongoose Unit. Rather, it is quite typical of what I have called the Mahiibhiirata's Itaesthetics of expansion.'t

m.3.2. An Epilogue to a ItHappy End

lt

The unit immediately preceding the Mongoose Unit, the lengthy description of the horse-sacrifice (M.Rh. BOR! XIV. 70-91), is no doubt the narrative heart of the Parvan as a whole. We shall eventually return to this central part of the Parvan, but for now, suffice it to say that the whole affair of the sacrifice is presented favorably. The descriptions of the actual sacrificial offerings, of the distributions of gifts to the priests and so forth are pretty conventional as epic praise of royal sacrifices go.2 The bottom line certainly is that the rite has been a success in every way which matters. It was performed faultlessly, with the correct utensils and by quaIified, knowledgeable and pure priests, with great grandeur and generosity. The sacrifice is said to have effectively cleansed the patron of the sacrifice, Yudhi~Utira

from the sin of having killed his kinsmen, and to have produced much extra

merit besides. What better closure to the Parvan o/the Horse Sacrifice could one expect

than:

liThe best of the Bhiiratas, his purpose fulfilled,

IThe difficulty of clinching the matter by a direct statement of "what it all means"

may be demonstrated by the fact that although each of these "secondary," interpretive stories is accompanied with some direct interpretive comments, the manuscripts are very much at variance at these points.

2Kannarkar notes the selectivity of the description of the rite. For instance, the symbolic copulation of the queen with the dead horse is only mentioned succinctly, and the paripliiva., or lithe revolving cycle of legends which is to be told during the time of the horses wanderings, is not mentioned at all. See Karmarkar 1953. lt

307

Having gotten rid of the evil (of killing his kinsmen), entered his city."?

(M.Bh. BOR! XlV.91.41cd) The Mongoose Unit may therefore strike some readers as an afterthought, a final digression. One might be tempted to speculate along with the Parvan's editor, Raghunath Damodar Karrnarkar~ that the Mongoose Unit has been" tacked on at the end" of the Parvan by someone.3 Nothing about the manuscript evidence supports such a hypothesis,

however. On the contrary, the unit is recorded in all extant manuscripts.4 The variations that exist are alllocaI, and sequence variations are few and at most cast doubt on the "originality" of a few lines. From the point of view of the narration-frame. too, the unit is simply an extension of the ongoing dialogue between Janamejaya and Vaisarppayana. We must therefore assume that at the stage of the fonnalion of the text which we have come to call tfthe Mahiibharata" (and this is the subject of our study) the Mongoose Unit was wel1

established in its place. If it is a latter addition to the text, it is no more so than the story of the Brhaspati-SaTflvarta Rivalry. Rather than to try and excise

it~

I believe it will be more

fruitful to try and understand the logic by which it has come to take its place. I believe it is the logic of contestatory discourse.

m.3.3. Stories Interpreting Stories. (Summary and Analysis of Each Story)

3S ee R. D. Karmarkar, his notes to the Aivamedhika Parvan, BORI edition vol. IS, 471, note 96. 4With two insignificant exceptions. B2 stops abruptly after chapter 83, right in the middle of the recounting of the horse sacrifice. Do 1 has many missing folios, and as a result some portions of this episode as well as may other portions of the Parvan are missing in this manuscript.

308

m.3.3.1. Entry of the Mongoose-Narrator (Chapter 92) Janamejay~

unsatisfied with the above mentioned neat closure, wants to hear more

about "the miraculous event" (iiScaryam) which took place at the sacrifice. This is bow we come to hear from Vaisaqlpiyana about that wonderous mongoose who suddenly, when the sacrifice was all finished and done, came out of a hole in the ground and declared in a thunder-like human voice: Kings! This sacrifice of yours is not equal to the (gift of a) sakta of barley meal Which a generous (brahmin), dweller of K~etr3.y whose vow was to subsist on gleaning, has offered!

(M.Bh. BORI XlV.92.7) Since the mongoose was blessed with the power of (Sanskrit) speech, and furthermore, since he was blue-eyed and one side of his body was made of gold, his declaration was taken seriously by the worthy members of the assembly. To make a long story sho~ the mongoose proceeded to justify his disturbing statement with the following story (retold in my own words).

ill.3.3.2. The Mongoose's Story (M.Bh. BOR! XIV.93) A brahmin, his wife, his son and his daughter-in-law once lived in

Kuru~etra.

Together they practiced the difficult vow of gleaning, in other word, they subsisted "as the pigeon does" only on grains freely found in the fields, and ate only once a day. Even when a famine hit the land and the family had to go hungry for many days, they did not break their vow. One day during this period of distress, the brahmin somehow succeeded in 7

collecting a small amount of barley, a single prastha. They rejoiced, and together they ground the barley, divided the course flour into four equal parts, and performed all the appropriate rites in preparation for the much awaited meal. Suddenly, when they were just ready to sit down and eat, a brahmin guest turned up at their door. Despite their hunger, the pious family delighted at this opportunity to

309 ceremoniously receive a brahmin. They invited him in and honored him as one honors a distinguished guest. When the time to feed the guest came there was no food besides what they had planned on eating, so the brahmin joyfully offered the guest his own portion of the meal. The guest ate it all up, but was still hungry. The wife convinced her reluctant husband to allow her to offer her portion also to the guest. This too did not satisfy the hungry brahmin guest, however, and now it was the son's tum to convince his father to let him offer his portion. When this bit of food did not suffice, the daughter-in-law finally talked the brahmin into giving even her morsel of food away. Thus, they all gave away their last bit of food with pure and joyous bearts. When the brahmin had eaten the very last portion he was gratified. Then he revealed himself to the brahmin and to his family as the god Dharma incarnate. The dwellers of heaven showered flowers from above, and Dharma praised the gleeners' humble gift as the highest of all gifts. Finally, he invited the whole family to come to heaven with him, and so they did. Now our blue-eyed mongoose was just a regular mongoose who happened to be hiding in a hole in the ground when all this took place, so he became a witness to these events. When it was allover and the family was gone, he came out of his hole. The mere scent of the barley meal, the mere touch of the remains of the barley meal which had fallen to the ground, the touch of the water with which the brahmin's feet had been washed, as well as the contact with the flowers which had been showered from heaven, caused half of his body to turn into pure gold. The mongoose concludes his story by explaining to Yudhi~!.hira and

to his worthy guests that ever since, he has been trying to convert the rest

of his body into gold. In order to achieve this goal, he has gone to many ascetic's retreats and attended every grand sacrifice that he was able to, in the hope that the same miracle would occur once more, and the other half of his body would tum into gold too. When he heard of the wise Yudhi~thlra's sacrifice he of course hoped that finally the miracle would 7

310

Despite being unconventional, the participants in the sattra were all highly accomplished religious

specialists~

true religious virtuosi. All uhad a personal vision of

Dharma (or dharma? the expression is pratyalqadharmano)." In this respect., they were all equal to the brahmin who practiced the vow of gIeaning~ the protagonist of the

Mongoose's StOry9 who as we recall also had a personal vision of the god Dhanna. They all had conquered their senses and were free of hypocrisy and delusion 9and they all served in (or engaged in9 took part in, recognized) that sacrifice (upasate sma ta1!Z yajiiam). Furthermore: The illustrious (Agastya) had acquired the food offerings according to his means; Not a thing in that sattra was unfit to be offered. (M.Bh. BORI XIV.95.10a-d)

Agastya's sacrifice, in other words, is no doubt introduced to the audience as a highly meritorious 9if unusual, occasion. The story goes on: Intent on benefiting all creatures, Agastya entered a twelve year long consecration period (dl/qii). This is where the trouble began, for Indra decided to stop all rain from falling as long as Agastya was undergoing his dl/qa, and when the rain does not faIl for twelve years it is a serious problemt 100 It seems that something was wrong about Agastya's sacrifice. Was the excessive length of the dl~ii the problem? Indeed, even for a sattra, which is supposed to be a long rite, a twelve year dllqa is unusually long, for the dJ/qii of a sattra usually takes anywhere from three days to a year. lOl But the story goes on:

U

there bringing to mind the Debate Between the Wandering Ascetic and the Sacrificing Priest. 7

I{}()For the motif of rain not falling for long periods see O'FIaherty 1976, 291-302. 10 1Kane

1974 part II, 1249.

311

The participating ascetics started talking: This

sacrificer~ Agasty~

is giving food away without any self-regard,

And the God of Rain is not raining. How will there be food?

(M.Bh. BOR! XIV.95.13) The nis decided that they ought to help the overly ascetic (or over-heated, atitapiib) Agastya. The text doesn't tell us directly what exactly the ascetics did., only that Agastya of great tapas did not accept their view that something was wrong with his sacrifice, since he confident! y declared to them: If Indra will not rain for twelve years, I shall perfonn

The sacrifice of thoughts. This is the eternal law!

If Indra will not rain for twelve years, I shalt by means of exertion, Offer yet other sacrifices of even more ex~eeding vows! This seed-sacrifice of mine has been collected over many years. I shall do with cultivated seeds. There will be no obstacle in this matter! This sattra of mine cannot be made vain by any means, Whether a god pours forth rain in this world or not. And if Indra does not freely heed our petition,

I shall myself become Indra. I shall sustain creatures! (M.Bh. BOR! XIV.95. 17-2 1)

To prove to his fellow

~is

that they could count on his powers, Agastya ordered all

go ld and precious substances in the world, all the wealth of the Northern Kurus, to come to the place of his sacrifice. 102 Furthennore, he ordered the celestial dancers and musicians to corne and serve the r~is. He even ordered heaven, and the gods, the dwellers of heaven, and Dharma itself, to attend. And it all came to be, just as he said.

l02This geographic motif probably reflects Agastya's special association with the South, see III. I 02.

312

Something about the way Agastya conducts the rite is clearly offensive to Indra. In fact~

the rite almost seems to devolve into an act of defiance or rebellion against the gods on

the part of Agastya. Agastya seems to believe that he can take Indra's place. But what is it that at frrst disturbs Indra? Agastya's declaration includes a new crucial piece of information that seems oddly introduced as a minor point. It suddenly becomes evident that he not only extended the dllqa more than the usual period, but that he also intended to offer a vegetarian sacrifice, replacing the customary animal flesh with grain offerings. Indra's unusual (indeed, Vrtra-like!) behavior, of blocking the fall of rain. may now be associated not (or not only) with the excessive length of the dl/qa, but with the fact that the substance of the intended sacrifice was not in accordance with Indra's idea of proper sacrificial proceedings (and perhaps did not suit Indra's food preferences).

If we take Agastya's speech as the key to the present story ~ than it is consistent and continuous with the previous one in locating the concern of the Mongoose's Story as sacrificial violence and in particularly the slaughter of animals. Both the Story of Indra's

Sacrificial Dispute With The 8.#s and the story of Agastya's Sacrifice identify the great Vedic god Indra, the famous killer of the Asura or "serpent" Vrtra who blocked the flow of the

waters~

with a concept of sacrifice which requires and involves the slaughter of animals.

Agastya (rather than the f.ris as a group as in the Story of Indra's Sacrificial Dispute With

The l.4is) is made in the story of Agastya's Sacrifice the representative of the idea of vegetarian sacrifice. Despite the difference between the authorities they invoke, ir seems that both the Story of lndra's Sacrificial Dispute With The 8$is and the story of

Agastya's Sacrifice interpret the Mongoose's Story as a critique of Saruta ritual's violent dimension and as supportive of a ritual reform which would substitute plant substances for animal flesh. But let us go on with the story:

313

Hearing Agastya's speech, the ~is were undecided, at first, but they were concerned about the good of the world. Perhaps they did not want Agastya to spend his tapas on even more demonstrations of his ascetic powers. Were they worried that he might be driven to prove his ability to nourish the whole world in the place of In~ as he declared? Anyhow, they soon came to accept Agastya's position: Master, this non-violent understanding (buddhi) of yours is correct. Mighty One, may you always declare this non-violence with respect to sacrifices. This will gratify us, Best of the Twice Born! We shall leave at the completion (Of the rite), when we have been (ritually) dismissed from this sattra.

CM.Bh. BORI XIV.95.31-32) Not only did they come round and approve of vegetarian sacrifice, they even enjoined Agastya to further propagate this form of yajna. And 10 and behold, even as they were speaking, before the completion of the sacrifice, the king of the gods, seeing the power of Agastya's tapas, caused the rain to faIl. 103 Indra now became an agreeable rain-making god. He even propitiated Agastya, personally attending the sattra with along with Brhaspati. his royal chaplain (purohita). More than anything, the story of Agastya's Sacrifice reads like a charter myth for the institution of vegetarian-sacrifices. But the story is not just a simple statement of the superiority of vegetarian sacrifice. The r#s' announcement that they have now decided to stay until the end of the sattra is peculiar. Was there any doubt to begin with that they intended to complete the sacrifice? No mention is made in the story of such a disruptive move on their part, and only the fact that they suddenly announce their' intention to stay suggests that previously they have considered~ perhaps threatened~ to break up the joint sacrifice. Why? They may have worried abollt the absence of rain, and thought that if Indra should withhold the rain as long as the dl/qa is going on, they had better give the

I03M.Bh. BOR! XIV.95.33.

314

sacrifice UP9 d[lqii and alL But their disapproval may have been more specific. They may have also, or primarilY9 initially disagreed with Agastya about the appropriateness of a bloodless sacrifice. In other words, the !$is' initial position in this story must have been the same as Indra's position in the previous story, where the rris speak for non-violent sacrifice and Indra insists on the necessity of animal sacrifice. This is in fact how I think the story should be read. The story tells us that the !$is, the representatives of Vedic authority, first sided with Indra, the representative of blood sacrifice. They felt that without the violent killing of a victim, there would be no rain, and therefore. no food. Later. they carne round and became supporters of vegetarian sacrifices. In other words, our story is in a way about a historical process of ritual reform. The supporters of blood-sacrifice, Indra and the !$is, at first resisted the emerging ideology of non-violence, but eventually they lost the struggle and vegetarian sacrifice and its representative, the {ii Agastya, won. The community of nis is described here as internally divided at some point, and as relenting to the pressure of a single r#'s tapas. The choice of Agastya of all

~is

as the representative of vegetarian sacrifice may

seem peculiar at first, since elsewhere in the Mahiibharata Agastya is in fact known as an especially cOlnpetent flesh-eater and digester. He is famous for having consumed the daitya Vatapi totally. As the Mahiibhiirata version of this story goes, the daitya llvala hated brahmins. He used to cook up his brother Vatapi and feed his flesh to brahmins. Then he would revive Varapi when he was in the brahmins' bellies. Vatapi would then tear his way out of the brahmins' bodies, and in the process, their stomachs would get ripped apan. Agastya solved the problem for good by eating vatapi up. and then digesting him so quickly that llvala was not able to revive him fast enough. 104 I04Abbreviated from M.Bh. BOR! III.33. In the Adi Parvan. Agastya is also known to have hunted wild animals in order to sacrifice them. He apparantly was a great expert in archery, and his pupil, Agnive~a, was DrOI.1a'S teacher. (Sorensen gives the reference of 1.118; 139).

315

If we consider however that we are dealing here with a sattra of which Agastya is 7

7

the grhapati7 the situation may become clearer. Agastya as the grhapati of the sattra is the "dead dog," 105 the one who gets the piipman of killing the victim so that the disease and death which Rudra is prone to inflict will be diverted from the community at large to a single individual. In the agonistic form of the sattra the papman was never completely y

gotten rid of, only circulated, passed on to someone else. The g,-hapati of the sattra was the "poison swallower/' something like a "scape-dog."l06 According to our story, Agastya's special feat in his encounter with Vcirapi was to interiorize the evil (papman) of killing so fully and effectively that it was consumed and destroyed once and for all. The need to circulate the evil, to pass it on, did not exist any more. This is why Agastya was just the right person to declare that henceforth there will be no need to kill for a sattra to be efficacious. 107 And now we come to the main point of my argument. Both the story of Indra's debate with the !$is and the story of Agastya's sacrifice are about a sacrificial contest. In both, the contest is not just any contest. It is a contest about what sacrifice is to be in the future. This bold statement of a refonnist ritual agenda is effected by a creative interpretation of the Vedic practice of praising and reviling a sacrifice in the process of that same sacrifice. In the story of Agastya's sacrifice the institution of sacrifice is re7

constituted by its practitioners through an ideological struggLe which is conceived by them to be pan of the process of sacrifice itself.

105For the "dead dog motif, see discussion of Falk's work III.I.3. lt

1061 thank

Wendy Doniger for suggesting the expression.

1070nce we see that Agastya is a kind of ultimate grhapati or "scapedog," one cannot avoid observing a certain similarity with the Christian idea that Christ's crucifixion was a final or ultimate sacrifice which did away once and for all with the need to repeat yearly the high priest's sacrifice on the day of atonement, see The Letter to the Hebrews 9:11-12; 10:11-19.

316

In both stories. the aspect of sacrifice at stake is the killing of animals. Is killing a

necessary part of sacrifice, is the killing what makes sacrifice efficacious? The second story puts forth the view that tapas such as Agastya possessed is an apt substitute for a blood sacrifice, if not a superior fonn of achieving the same goal. Another interesting aspect of this pair of stories is the relative importance which is given in them to human (or rather. priestly) agency in the process of constituting fonns of worship. In the first story, the [:fis dare to oppose Indra on a matter of principle. In the second story the point is made even more powerfully by the fact that Indra comes round anI y when the .f"$is do, not before them. In other words, the

~is'

decision to sanction

vegetarian sacrifice was at least independent of Indra's. I am not necessarily arguing that these two little stories are actual records of specific historical events in which a supporter of vegetarian sacrifice overcame the resistance of the supporters of animal sacrifice, as KIostermaier argues with reference to the Dalq;a story .108 Rather, I am saying that there was an ongoing process of contesting and redefining ritual practices, and that the idea of sacrifice as a contest of power, as well as the notion of ritual debate as an essential part of sacrifice, profoundly shaped the way this process was thought about and represented. Now let us sum up our observations. The story of lndra's Debate with the /S.$is and that of Agastya's Sacrifice are interpretations of The Mongoose's Story. As a combined unit, they make two very important interpretive points: First, they identify The Mongoose's Story as part of the discourse of sacrificial contest. The mongoose's sudden appearance at a sacrificial rite and his challenge to the very institution is brought into context, recognized as a variation on a theme. Despite the mongoose's animal form, the interpretive tales take him to be doing the very same thing

I08Above section ill. 1.6.2.

317

that the wandering ascetic had done when he came to the sacrificing priest and told him that his sacrifice was faulty. I 09 Second~

these stories identify the fault which the mongoose finds in

Yudhi~thirars

sacrifice. Again, the fault happens to be the same fault which the yati found in the adhvaryu's sacrifice, namely, violence.

The Mongoose's Story partakes of the widespread motif of the unknown brahmin guest whose requests, often for food, must be appeased at all costs. I I0 The figure of the wandering ascetic, often hungry and prone to wrath if his demands are not fully satIsfied, is in many aspects the heir of the vriitya of the middle Vedic period who would wander through the settlement of the other tribe demanding gifts from householders, and become violent if the householders did not satisfy his demands. But there is a crucial difference. Unlike the agonistic sacrificers of old~ the brahmin gleaner in the Mongoose's Story is able to satisfy the hunger of his voracious guest without himself perpetuating the cycle of violence. He achieves this by his and his family's complete self-denial, tyaga. The interpretive stories supplied by the Aivamedhika Parvan highlight some agonistic motifs in the Mongoose Unit - the mongoose's sudden, disruptive appearance at the sacrificial arena, and his objection to the sacrifice - but they use these motifs to SUppOIt the theology of noo- violent sacrifice by emphasizing the virtue of the gleaner's way of life and the vegetarian substance of the gift. It is quite clear that this line of interpretation does not exhaust ail possible readings of The Mongoose's Story. Like most stories and discourses of our Parvan, and of the M ahabharata in general, when taken out of context. The Mongoose's Story is open to extremely broad interpretation. For example, the reason

for the superiority of the gleaner's gift over Srauta sacrifice is not specified in the story

109 Above

section Ill.l.l.

110Jamison 1996 t 153-203.

318

itself. Is the nature of the gleaner's vow or the substance of the gift the decisive factor? A reader coming from the South Indian devotional tradition would probably highlight the spirit of humility and faith with which the gift was given. In

fact~

The Mongoose's Story

is strikingly similar to a cycle of stories about a devout couple who offer. even cook and feed, their only son to a hungry brahmin guest. I II This other intertextual connection shows that our Parvan's deployment of the agonistic motif in the cause of non-violence is only one of a number of historically possible deployment of this motif. We have even seen other such deployments in the Mahabhiirata itself, namely, in the story of Dak~a's Sacrifice. 112 It does, however, fit in quite well with the thematics so far shown to be the concern of the Aivamedhika Parvan. The story of lndra's Debate with the /.4is identifies the issue at stake in the

Mongoose's Story as the conflict between the agonistic sacrificial paradigm, taken to be the very paradigm for cosmic order, and the dharma of non-violence. It poses a problem, emphasizes the importance of taking sides, but strangely enough, refrains from taking sides. The story of Agastya's Sacrifice is clearly a condemnation of animal sacrifice on the ground that it is violent. It reads as a charter myth of vegetarian sacrifice. Both stories seem to recognize the ongoing process of contesting ritual practices and the role of the trope of sacrifice as a contest and the notion of ritual debate in the way this process was articulated. Had this been the very last story of the Parvan, it would have created a clean sense of closure, and enhanced the interpretation of The Mongoose's Story voiced by Vaisarppayana:

[[IShulman 1993 has dealt with the motif in the Tamil and Telugu traditions - The figure of the "little devotee" in the Periya Puriil)a and the Story of Siriya/a in the Basava Pura1;la. 112Above section ill. 1.6.2.

319

King you should not on any account. regard sacrifice with awe. y

y

Numerous [1is have gone to heaven through the practice of penance. Abstention from injuring creatures ycontentment with one's lot, virtue. honesty

y

Penance, self-restrain4 truthfulness and gifts are considered equal (to it).

(M.Bh. BORI XIV.93.92-93) Its actual position, almost but not quite at the end of the Parvan. does not allow such closure, however.

m.3.3.S. The Story of Anger (chapter 96) After all this, Yudhi~thira, who apparently is still not satisfied, inquires about the mongoose's identity (96.1). Vaisarppayana replies by telling yet another storyy as follows: Once the sage Jamadagni intended to perform the rites for the ancestors

(iraddha). His homa cow came to himy and he personally milked her and placed the milk in a new, durable and pure vessel. But then Anger incarnated himself and overturned the pOt. 1I3 The fool wanted to find out about the .r$i; he wondered what the r# would do when

offended~

so he struck against his milk. The muni

commanded that anger of his yand indeed did not become angry. Anger, who realized that he has been defeated, stood embodied with his hands folded, and addressed the muni as follows: "Best of the Bhrgus. The popular saying that the descendants of Bhrgu are exceedingly prone to anger is

false~

since you have defeated me. Today I depend

on you. You are in possession of forgiveness, you have a great soul~ I fear your

tapas, Sage, show me your favor, Mighty One!" Jamadagni said: If! have seen you in person, Anger.

Go~

your affliction is gone.

You have not offended against me. I am not angry. You should, however, have regard for and approach those for whom I intended the milk, the blessed ancestors. " Frightened, Anger hid himself. Because of the curse of the ancestors, he became a mongoose.

manuscripts Kl; B [,3-5; D2A-6 have a significantly different reading, which translates: "then Dharma in the fonn of anger entered the pot." 113 The

320

He propitiated the ancestors: "Let there be an end to the curse.

It

They told him: "When you have reviled Dhanna, you shall be set free.

II

Going about places of sacrifices and to groves where dharma is practiced~ abusing, he reached that sacrifice (of Yudhi~thira). Now that he has reviled the son of Dharma with that tale of a prastha of barley meal. Anger has been released from the curse, for Yudhi~thira was Dharma. Thus it happened in the sacrifice of that great one. And the mongoose disappeared even as we were looking. eM.Bh. BOR! XIV.96.3-15) The Story of Anger takes a different hermeneutic stance toward the Mongoose's Story. It does not claim to bring out that story's "true meaning.

to

Rather. it attempts to

discredit the narrator, the mongoose, and with him, the story itself. It agrees with the two previous interpretative stories in locating The Mongoose's Story within the tradition of reviling the sacrifice, but differs from these two in its negative assessment of that practice. It regards the practice itseif as resulting from a curse~ or at best~ as a fonn of penance, an expiation. At any rate, the mongoose's condition is not seen by The Story of Anger as a blessed one. He is a fallen being, and the fact that he engages in condemning a sacrifice is sufficient proof of it. The haIf golden body, the human voice - these are explained away as remnants of the higher state from which he has fallen (in denial of the mongoose's own claim that he aquired them through contact with the gleaner's sacred offering). 114 Thus. The Story of Anger recognizes the institution of reviling the sacrifice only in order to neutralize what its author(s) regard as its subversive potential. The specific contents of the mongoose's criticism of Yudhi~thira's sacrifice are certainly not addressed in it, and this is consistent with The Story of Anger's basic position that the mongoose is acting under a formal compulsion to revile what is essentially blameless. According to this story, the institution of reviling the sacrifice is connected with a low impulse, anger, which 114This is true whether the mongoose is identified with Anger, or with Dharma in the guise of Anger, as he is in some manuscripts, see note 113 above.

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should be curbed. Jamadagni exemplifies in the story the correct way of dealing with anger. One must simply ignore the external embodiment of anger~ and curb one's inner anger. In this story, the mongoose is said to have disappeared. The force of this specific narrative element may be to locate the very practice of reviling the sacrifice in the distant past even as it is recognized as a "fact," a claim that people used to do that sort of thing but not anymore. This would be yet another way to neutralize the subversive potential of the objections to sacrifice which have been raised even in the Aivamedhika Parvan. Whoever expanded the Aivamedhika Parvan by adding The Story of Anger at the end obviously did not like the questioning of the institution of sacrifice which pervades the Parvan. Nevertheless, two facts are quite striking. First, however much the authors of The Story ofAnger dislike the institution of blaming the sacrifice, they are not able to do away with it. It is a given cultural fact, and more than this. it is a given textual fact. They cannot, for instance, edit out The Mongoose Unit. All they can do is add their voice to the amalgamation of interpretations which we find in the textual tradition. Second, and even more significant, is the fact that it is the very convention of sacrificial contest which enables the inclusion of this oppositional view.

m.3.4. The Mongoose Unit As Pan of the Frame of the Parvan The Mongoose Unit is the last unit of the Parvan. 115 The Story of the Br/zaspatiSa1]1varta Rivalry and the Discourse on the Enemy Within begin the Parvan. Do these two units serve to frame and define the Parvan as a unit in any way?

I 15This

is the case in the Northern recension and in the critically constituted text. In the South, all manuscripts have a very long additional unit called the Va41J.avadharma. We shall devote some space to the assessment of that unit below. The Mongoose Unit still must be recognized as the outer frame of the Parvan at the most significant stage of its fonnation.

322

From the point of view of the narrational frame the Parvan is rather loosely T

constituted. It is certainly very different from~ say. the Santi Parvan~ where the whole Parvan is one long dialogue between two interlocutors. In the Aivamedhika Parvan the opening unit is a dialogue between

Yudhi~thira

and his mentors Vyasa and

~IJa,

and the

closing unit is located in the outer frame of the Mahiibharata as an exchange between Janamejaya and Vaisarppayana. Despite this asymmetry both units have one thing in common - both are quite ex.plicit in their references to contestatory sacrificial imagery. The Parvan stam out by staging a sacrificial dilemm~ and by invoking time-honored Vedic imagery in order to define the terms by which this dilemma is to be understood. The Mongoose Unit returns

[0

the contestatory theme~ albeit with some shifts of emphasis.

The open-ended jux.taposition of two antithetical visions in the opening of the Parvan recalls the Vedic brahmodyas or verbal contests. The Mongoose Unit is concerned with the related theme of the competition between a "praiser" and a "reviler," a theme which shades off into that of the outsider who breaks into the sacrificial arena. The dilemma set up in the opening unit is that of prav.rtti versus nivrtti, engagement in worldly activity versus withdrawal from all such processes by vanquishing its driving force, desire. The Mongoose's Story taken in itself is too open-ended to identify the nature of the dilemma it

poses. The pair of stories which follow it, however, locate the dilemma of the unit quite clearly in the problem of the sacrificial killing of animals which is required by Vedic tradition yet perceived to be contrary (0 dharma. The Story of Anger comes back to the point of view of The Discourse on the Enemy Within - anger or strife should be altogether ignored or suppressed~ and then it will disappear, it will prove to be ultimately unreal. We shall see that in fact these (WO related dilemmas, namely pravrtti versus nivrtti and sacrifice versus non-violence, circumscribe quite well the scope of the

ideological debates addressed in the Aivamedhika Parvan. What remains consistent

323

throughout the Parvan is the reference to the contestatory aspect of sacrifice as the very

fonn of debate.

ill.4. Playful Manipulations: The Yoga as Internal Sacrifice Unit (M.Bh. BOR! XIV.20-2S).

ID.4.1. A dialogue between a brahmin and his discontented wife We will now look at an example of a more indirect and subtle manipulation of contestatory motives. It is taken from the Anuglta section of the Aivamedhika Parvan. from a dialogue between a brahmin and his discontented wife. As the story goes, the wife interrupts her husband as he sits detached, or in seclusion (vivikta), to complain that by having cast away worldly action or ritual activity (learman) he has depriving her of her lawful share in the worlds attained through sacrifice. 116 The husband's reply (M.Bh. BORI XIV.20-34) begins with a series of riddles (M.Bh. BOR! XIV.20-2S) which we shall examine closely. To be more precise, there are

four outright riddles, each opening with a question such as: uDo you know, my dear~ who the six hotrs are?" The first and last units of the series are however, better described as "enigmatic discourses." I will refer to the whole series in short as the Yoga as Internal

Sacrifice unit, because both the enigmatic discourse and the riddles have this in common, that they subvert the language of sacrifice by substituting for it the language of yoga. This sort of homologizing impulse is the heritage of the middle Vedic period (BrabmaQa literature).117 Here, the homologies are used in order to shift the arena of discourse from sacrifice to yoga

116

M.Bh. BOR! XIV.20.3-4.

117Witzel 1979 provides many examples.

324

The grounds for this shift is prepared by the brahmin's dismissal of (external) sacrifice by "defIDing" it quite reductively: Since (sacrificial) acts whose substance is visible are smitten by ra/qasas, I myself look to the altar located within the self. (M.Bh. BOR! XIV.20.9)

The husband is identifying the contestatory or agonistic paradigm of sacrifice with sacrifice in generaL Any external rite in his view is somehow locked into a cosmic pattern of conflict and violence. This is a very unflattering caricature of the rival paradigm. In the agonistic Vedic

pattem~

the antagonist was an equal of the sacrifier just as the counter-gods

were equal to the gods. Here the antagonist is a monstrous demon, a

ra~asa.

This subtle

"blow below the belt" to external sacrifice is followed by a series of riddles.

ill.4.2. The Riddles ill.4.2.1. The introductory enigmatic discourse (M.Bh. BORI XIV.20.9-27) This discourse introduces the principle of homology which is the common theme of the riddle series, namely, a mapping of the yogic "body" on to the elements of sacrifice. A straightforward translation of some of the verses of this introductory riddle would be grossly misleading, since the ambiguity of the terms is here the whole point.

I by my Self see an altar (or sanctuary) within myself. There brahman, in which no logical opposition exists, dwells; there "soma" with "agni" reside. I IS . There the Firm One always holds beings firmly, dissolving (or purifying) them. Il9 In

llSOr the invisible I1ducts" or channels of breath in the body called ida and pingalii. 119Dissolving, covering, purifying, penetrating, sexually uniting, making light.... the expression is vyavayal'fl. kr. yatra tad brahma nirdvandval11 yatra somal) sahagnina

325

this place the gods 7in a restrained (yogic) state 7worship the Indestructible. 120 There the knowledgeable, of good vows, their selves pacified~ their senses subdued, reside. This place cannot be smelled by the sense of smell, cannot be tasted by the sense of taste, cannot be touched by the sense of touch - it can only be reached by the mind. 121 It cannot be overcome by Sight, it is whatever is beyond hearing. Without smell, taste and touch, without fonn, without sound, unchanging. The succession of the five breaths begins from this place. and to it returns. 122 ••• [here I omit a very technical discussion of the breaths]

...In the midst of these winds (=breaths) which roam everywhere in the body, devouring each other, the internal sevenfold Fire-Which-AlI-Men-Have (agnir vaiivanaraJ;.) is established. The five: smell, taste, vision, touch, hearing; and the two: mind and understanding, together make up the seven flames of the FireWhich-All-Men-Have. (Their objects,) scent, flavor, sight7 tactile sensation and sound~ and also the objects of mind and understanding - these are the seven fuels (samidhaI;L). The five: the smeller. taster, seer, toucher. and hearer~ and the thinker and the understander as well - these seven are the high priests (paramartvijal). Seven knowledgeable priests in unison (or: according to ritual law, sa1!lyak) cast a sevenfold oblation into seven flames, and then give birth to them in their own wombs. The five: earth, air, space, water7 light7 and mind and

vyavayaQl kurute nityarp dhlro bhiitani dharayan (M.Bh. BaRI XIV.20.10). 120Ak,fara also means the syllable Orp, an oblique reference to sound mysticism:

yatra brahmadayo yuktas tad ak~ararp urasate (M.Bh. BaRl XIV .20.11 ab) 121S ome

122

manuscripts read "neither."

atmastham atmana tena dr~tam ayatanarp maya yatra tad brahma nirdvandvaqI yatra soma sahagnina vyavayarp kurute nityat'p dhlro bhiltani dharayan yatra brahmadayo yuktas tad ak~ararn upasate vidvaq,.satJ suvrata yatra santatmano jitendriyaf:l ghcfu).ena na tad aghreyarp na tad adyam ca jihvaya sparsena ca na tat sPrSyarp manasa tveva gamyate c~u~a na vi~ahyarp. ca yat kirp cicchravaJ}at param agandham arasasparsam ariipasabdam avyayarn yatab prevartate tantrarp. yatra ca pratiti~thati (M.Bh. BaRI XIV.20.9cd-14ab)

326

understanding - these seven are called a womb. All qualities become a sacrificial oblation and enter the mouth which is born of fire, and having dwelt in the interior dwelling they are born in their own wombs. Even there are they arrested during the (cosmic) dissolution of the world of created beings .... 12.3 Agnir vaiivanaraQ, literally "the fire which all t·1en have," means "digestion" and is

also the name of a yearly soma sacrifice. In this passage, however, it refers to the mystical practice involving the flinternaJ" "sacrificing" or flburning" of the sequence of Sarikhya principles (tattvas) in reverse order, so as to reverse the process of cosmic evolution (or creation) itself. This internal destruction (pralaya or laya) is followed by the internal reproduction or recreation of a pure yogic "body". The mapping of the yogic "body" onto the sacrificial complex harks to a tradition within sacrificial discourse of likening the sacrifice to a "body." In this passage, however, the thrust of the homology is not to equate the two realms but to subsume the sacrificial tenns under yogic ones.

ill.4.2.2. The Second Riddle (M.Bh. BOR! XIV.2l) This riddle similarly maps sacrificial terms onto yogic terms. However, here we encounter themes of competition, relative ranking, and who gets left out, to which no reference was made in the enigmatic discourse of chapter 20.

123

te~am anyonyabhak~anarp sarve~arp

dehacariQfun agnir vaisvanaro madhye saptadha vihito 'ntara ghrfuJarp. jihva ca cak~us ca tvak ca srotrarp ca paficamam mano buddhis ca saptaita jihva vaisvanararci~a1J ghreyarp. peyarp ca drSyarp ca sprsyarp sravyarp. tathaiva ca mantavyam atha boddhavyarp tal) sapta samidho (mama?) ghrata bh~ayitii dr~ta sp~ta srota ca pancarnal). manta boddha ca saptaite bhavanti paramarrvijal:l (ghreye peye ca dr§ye ca spfsye sravye tathaiva ca?) havirp~y agni~u hotaral) saptadhii sapta saptasu samyak pr~ipya vidvfupso janayanti svayoni~u prthi vi vayur aIdisam apo jyotis ca paficamarn mano buddhis ca saptaite yonir ity eva sabditaIJ havir bhiita guI)aQ sarve pravisanty agnijarp mukharp antarvasam u~itva ca jayante svasu yoni~u tatraiva ca nirudhyante praIaye bhiltabhavane (M.Bh. BORI XIV.20.1S- 22)

327

Which comes firs4 word or mind? Asks the wife, after the basic homology has been stated. So the brahmin tells a tale about word and mind, and how they once vied for supremacy. In a complex exchange of arguments between these entities, a middle ground is arrived at. Mind is distinguished as immovable and word is distinguished as movable. a compromize is reached. namely, that both are important. each in its own way.124

m.4.2.3. The third riddle (M.Bh. BORI XIV.22) This riddle reiterates the yoga-as-sacrifice homology with which we have become familiar, but also picks up the theme of contest which was introduced in the second riddle, and develops it in a particularly interesting way. We shall therefore give special attention to this riddle. It is about seven mysterious "priests" who cannot perceive each other. These, we soon find out. are the Nose, Eye, Tongue. Skin. Ear, Understanding (buddhc) and Mind (manas).l25 These seven psycho-physical organs are said never to perceive each other,

because each is not capable of grasping the type of sensation which is the object of the other. This state of uneasy equilibrium is disturbed when one of the seven, Mind, claims to be superior to the other five because: 126 Smell does not smell, and taste does not know flavor, without me. (M.Bh. BORI XIV.22.14ab)

124This is the gist of the passage. It is a most opaque unit. and has also attracted -=luite an number of interventions in the history of its manuscript transmission. which complicate its interpretation even further. The theme of a contest between "psychological" entities is already present in the Upani$ads, see Chii{ldogya Upani.rad 1.2 and B rhadaraTJ.yaka Upani$ad VI.l. 125Manas is difficult to translate. In some contexts, it is used rather loosely to refer to a faculty which rules the senses and involves both the emotions and the intellect, what we would call the mind and the heart. In other texts. the meaning is quite technical. In this context, "mind" is the best I can do.

126Understanding seems to drop out of the game at this point - why, I do no know.

328

Without me the sense faculties. like empty houses, do not shine y

forth~

(they are)

like fIres whose flames have become extinct. (M.Bh. BORI XIV.22.16) The fIve Senses, however, respond quite forcefully. On the contrary~ they say~ Mind is the dependent one. Mind would not experience a thing if the senses were put to rest! Moreover, mind cannot "eat" form (riipa, the object of vision) with the faculty of smell, nor by some altogether different ("mind") faculty. Finally, the senses challenge mind to experience, or to "eat" (v. ad) primary objects (apiirvan)y rather than the "leftovers" (ucchi-5{aTfL) which he, in their view, ex.periences or tteats (bhuJ).

On the philosophical level, the claim is that the mind is dependent on, secondary to, the senses. The passage, however does not pretend to be strictly philosophical. There is a dramatic even satirical dimension to the passage. The Senses are suggesting that Mind is y

socially inferior to them because he eats their "leftover foods" and not vice versa.l 27 This combination of humor and seriousness continues. as the Senses become more irreverent in their attitude toward Mind. Like a student who follows a teacher to learn scripture and then. having got hold of the scripture, becomes established in the meaninglbusiness (arrha) of scripture, so do you consider the objects of the senses which we present to you in dreams and in wakefulness as if they are not received (anagatan) (from us)~ as if they had been mastered Catnan) (by yourself).

CM.Bh. BORI XIV.22.24-25) The Senses' irreverent comparison of sensory experience to scripture echoes the stereotype of the heretic (nastika) who refuses to recognize any authority except

127M.Bh.

BORI XIV .22.23cd. The socially superior in the caste hierarchy will never accept cooked food from his or her inferior because to accept cooked food from someone marks you as an equal or an inferior of that person. y

329

experience. l2K Despite this echo of serious dissent~ the speech of the Senses ends lightly. in a joking dismissal of the whole yogic enterprise of subduing the senses (with which mind here is naturally identified). They make many spiritual resolutions (sa1!lkalpan) and achieve many visions (dreams, states of consciousness, svapnan) but when oppressed by craving

(hubhu/qayii), they run to the realm of the senses ... One whose food is spiritual resolutions always dies {"attains peace," santim

upaiti; the same expression could elsewhere mean "to attain

liberation~"

but here

the expression is used ironically) not finding the objects of the senses when his life-breath comes to its

end~

even like a fire when the wood is extinguished. He is

like one who entered a house without doors.129 The Senses get back at Mind. Since Mind was haughty enough to claim that the Senses without him are "empty

houses~"

the Senses retort by comparing Mind without the

Senses to a person locked up in a house without doors. The introduction of house imagery is, in my opinion. not an accident, since the dialogue is a household affair, taking place between a husband who will not play his role as householder (grJzastha) and his wife. Mind is a little like the detached husband, and the Senses speak for the wife. Finally, the angry abuse turns into a conciliatory tone. Granted, we are bound to our qualities; granted, we do not perceive each other's attributes. But you too do not grasp without us, you too do not experience pleasure without us.130 128 Above section m.l.l. 129

130

yatha hi si~YaQ sastararp srutyartharn abhidhavati tataIJ srutarp apacliiya srutartharp upati~thati vi~aya:n evam asmabhir daciitful abhimanyase anagatan ati~s ca svapne jagaraI)e tatha (M.Bh. BORI XIV.22.27-28) kamarp ttl nal) sve~u guQe~u sarpgal) kamarp ca nanyonyaguI).opalibdhaf) asman rte nasti tavopalibdhatvam apy rte sman na bhajeta har~aQ (M.Bh. BOR! XIV.22.29)

330

The "senses" sound like wives making fun of their detached husband who pretends to have vanquished his senses. A subtext which suggests the connection between "senses" and "sensuality" is introduced by their insistence that "you too need us for your pleasure." Yet~

all of this comes not from the mouth of the wife. who is almost completely silent

throughout the set of riddles, but from her husband. The introduction of the motif of senses and sensuality may open up another barely perceptible subtext. The original dialogic situation of the riddle series, the wife's demand for a place in the worlds beyond, to which she is entitled as a sacrificer's wife. hides an unarticulated complaint about emotional and sexual denial by her Itdetached" spouse. The husband's reply recognizes this undertone. In the first riddle this recognition is so oblique, so disguised, that it may pass unnoticed, but in the light of the third riddle we may recognize it. The detached husband's first discourse. the most enigmatic one. tells her about the inner "altar" or "sanctuary," where "somali (or the irja duct) is with "agoi" (or the pingaia duct),,31 This Yogic-Tantric imagery is not only sacrificial. but also sexual (just

as the sacrificial imagery itself is often sexual). The wife, however. is unable to recognize the suggestion. The husband is "responding" to his wife's unuttered complaint about emotional and sexual neglect by claiming that he has not only a sacrifice going on inside him. but also love-making! The response is so obscure, however, that she cannot understand the suggestion. This too is a fonn of dialogue ...

m.4.2.4. The fourth riddle (M.BIz. BORI XIV.23) This riddle again addresses the theme of relative ranking. The fonnat of an argument between entities over supremacy is also similar to what we have already seen. The "five priests" here are the five breaths, and each claims to be superior to its companions on the

131M.Bh. BORI XIV.20.10c; above section ill.4.2.1.

331

ground that the others will become extinct if it ceases. Some "empirical" experimentation (actual stopping of one breath at a time) proves that this in fact does not happen - in other words, no breath can extinguish the others by ceasing itself. Prajapati, the arbitrator. concludes: All of you are best and not best. The dharma of all of you is reciprocal. All of you are best in your own sphere. All of you are protected (or ruled, ralqin) by each other. The One is unmoving. The five winds, because of distinctions, are (moving). 132 Only my Self is one, though it mUltiplies (or increases, upa cl) manifold. All of you be friends to each other. Blessings! Now go, be well, and support each other!

(M.Bh. BORI XIV.23.22-24) While recognizing the point of view of the secondary or derivative entities, and calling for a spirit of mutual friendship~ Prajapati insists that the many are ultimately subsumed under the One, which, however, is conceptually positioned outside the elements which make up the aggregate. The One subsumes and transcends the many. In the second, third and fourth riddles, the husband again and again gives voice to the discontent of entities which are normally considered secondary

(guQa)~

and ends with some

kind of recognition that these beings are imponant in some respect. There is however quite a difference between the high level of specificity which the representation of another takes in the third riddle (Mind and Senses) and the level of abstraction with which the fourth riddle (Five Breaths) addresses otherness. The thrust of the fourth riddle is to insist that all multiplicity is grounded in the One. The final say is with the authority figure, Prajapati.

132The singular here is a problem.

332

m.4.2.S. The fifth riddle (XIV.24) The fifth riddle continues the trend toward closure. It addresses the same question as the fourth riddle~ namely, the relative ranking of the vital breaths. When a creature is bom~ which of the five breaths becomes active (manifested) fU'St? (M.Bh. BORI XIV.24.2)

There is a sudden shift in the frame .. however. The exchange is still reported by the brahmin to his wife, but the actual interlocutors are another brahmin . called Devamata, and the sage Narada. Could this be why the answer given to the question is different? In the previous chapter, the wife learned that the breaths are equally important. Here we learn that the U{iana breath must be considered the primary one. This idea is again expressed in densely technical and cryptic language, juxtaposing sacrificial, sexual and yogic imagery. The following is an abbreviated paraphrase, not a translation: The five breaths fall into two sets of pairs, plus the udana. The pairs are: the

samana-vyiina pair, which moves cross-wise~ and the praT)Cl- apana pair, which moves up and down. 133 The udana breath is the "fire in between" with respect to these pairs. [When a creature is produced, there is delight.] Desire produces delight. The five senses produce delight. Delight is produced from sexual union (mitlzuna). This (production of delight from union) is the form of udana. Desire produces both the semen and the female blood. When there is a union of these male and female liquids, [caused by?] 134 the (across pair) samana and vyana, (the up-and-down pair) pra1J.a and apa.na is born from this union. First

133

prfuJapanav idarp dvandvam avak cordhvarp ca gacchatal). vyana!} samanaS caivobhau tiryag dvandvatvam ucyate (M.Bh. BORI XIV.24.9)

134Janite is a key word here. Manuscripts have a number of alternative reading which yield a different sense.

333 praT)a comes forth from semen when it has been united with blood; then apiina

comes forth after the semen has been effected by pra1)a. 135

.... In between these two eaters of clarified buttery priir;a and the apana., a fire bums., and this fire is known to brahmins as the supreme form of the udana breath. 136 It is a general principle that whenever there is a pair of opposites, such as day and night, truth and untruth, the auspicious and the inauspicious, the existent and the non-existent,137 in between the two tenns there is an "oblation eating fire." This "fire in between" is the form (riipa) of the udana breath .... 138 ill.4.2.6. The sixth enigmatic discourse (M.Bh. BORI XIV .25) The brahmin's last speech sums up our group of yoga-as-sacrifice discourses by reaffirming the initial homology between sacrifice and yoga: A purifying fire, rich in merits, blazes in me[for me?]; A sacrifice of yoga goes on in me, the rise of brahma-knowledge; The stotras in it are the prii1)Q breaths, its Siistras are the apana breaths, The abandonment of all things is its fine sacrificial gift. (M.Bh. BORI XIV .25.14)

This creates a sense of closure - the series of riddles seems to have come round to the basic homology of sacrifice and yoga with which it started. A close examination will prove, however, that this is repetition with a vast difference~ The homology suggested in this chapter does not amount to quite the same thing as the homology of the first enigmatic discourse.

135The exact process is not clear to me. The passage is obscure, and manuscripts vary widely with respect to key words. 136

prlli)apanav ajyabhagau tayor madhye hutasanal) etad rupam udanasya paramarp bdihmaJ)a vidul} eM.Rh. BORI XIV. 24. 12)

137A sequence of verses (M.Bh. BORI XIV.24.11-18) provide examples of pairs of opposites, and repeats: "In between these two there is an oblation eating fire, this is the form of the udu1)a breath." The manuscripts vary widely here.

1381 am

not able to fully interpret the details of this discourse.

334

The homology is spelled out in detail: sacrifice (kannan) is action (!carman). Sacrifice-action is a kind of eating.

Eating~

digestion. is the archetypal process of life. This

clearly harks back to the agnirvaiivanara motif of the first enigmatic discourse. Just as in a sacrifice there are four (three plus one) kinds of priests, so action in general involves three plus one components: the cause (kara{Za), the act (kannan)7 the agent (kanr) and (the potential of) liberation (mo~a). But here a new ideological sore-point suddenly creeps in. as if out of nowhere. When one "eats for oneself' or acts with an acquisitive spirit one simply destroys the food and one is thereby destroyed. The knowledgeable man who does not "eat for himself' is a "god," because he gives birth again to the food that he has eaten (internally, in the form of breath). No transgression is born in him from eating the food because there was no destruction involved. Thus, despite the apparent closure effect, this last homology is not simply a reiteration of the enigmatic homology which opened the riddle series. In a way? this final unit is the least continuous with the rest of the series, because it is concerned less with relative ranking and more with the moral problem of destructive violence, killing, hi1]1Sa, which so far has not been directly addressed in the riddle series. Moreover, the way in which the homology between sacrifice and yoga is activated is contrary to the thrust of the first five riddles. Here, yoga does not subsume sacrifice. Rather, both yoga and sacrifice are collapsed into a single all embracing image or principle, namely. eating. The point is that just as one can eat (or even breath or smell) without violence despite the essential 7

violence of eating (and breathing or smelling) so one can sacrifice without violence. 139

139This last riddle is closer to the position of the adhvaryu in the yati-adhvaryusa1'flvada. There adhvaryu argues that whether one is engaged in subtle taking of life (e.g. sensory experience or thought) or in gross taking of life (that is~ sacrifice) does not matter: what matters is the knowledge which liberates one from the sin attached to action. t

335

m.4.3. Riddling Contests in Vedic Sacrifices We have seen six different applications of the principle of homology between sacrifice and psycho-physical yogic principles. However - and this is my point - because the discourse of sacrifice itself is so over-determined, because it contains competing paradigms of what sacrifice is, the yoga-sacrifice equation can be twisted, turned and stretched in all directions. These slippages and their organization are the key to this unit's placement in our Parvan. The series opens with a rejection of the agonistic paradigm of sacrifice. The first riddle introduces the principle of a homology between the external realm of sacrifice and the internal realm of yoga As this principle of homology and the potential of the riddle fonn itself are further explored, it seems that they do not yield a single sense. More and more, rhetorical patterns and concerns which are associated with the agonistic paradigm of sacrifice - competition, contestation - emerge as prominent. This may not be so surprising, since riddling itself is typical of the sacrificial verbal contests. In fact, the question "How many so and so are there?" itself is well in the tradition of sacrificial verbal contests. A good example is fJ.gveda 10.88.17-19, where it is stated that before sunrise the brahmin and the hotr must face each other and test each other with questions like: How many fires are there, how many suns, how many dawns, how many waters, then?l40 ~gveda

1.164, a particularly long and enigmatic brahmodya, begins with mysterious

priests and with number riddles: This beloved gray priest has a middle brother who is hungry and a third brother with butter on his neck. In him I saw the lord of all tribes with his seven sons.

l40Witzel 1987, 386.

336

"Seven yoke the one wheeled chariot drawn by one horse with seven names. All these creatures rest on the ageless and unstoppable wheel with three naves. "Seven horses draw the seven who ride on this seven wheeled chariot. Seven sisters callout to the place where the seven names of the cows are hidden .... 141 Similarly, the pattern of descending number order which seems to be suggested in the series of riddles of chapter 2 t.22~ and 23 which are about ten, seven. and five priests respectively, and the progress towards the ultimate One which underlies the multiplicity, is reminiscent of the famous brahmodya SatapathaBriiham1)a 11.6.3. where Sakalya asked Yaj£iavalkya: "How many gods are there, Yaj£iyavalkya?" "Three hundred and

three~

and three

thousand and three," he replied. "Yea, so it is!" he said. "How many gods are there really, Yijnyavalkya?1I "Thirty three." "How many gods are there really, Yajiiyavalkya?" "Three." "How many gods are there really ~ Yajfiyavalkya?" "Two." "Yea, so it ist" he said. "How many gods are there really. Yajuyavalkya?" "One and a half." "Yea, so it is!" he said. "How many gods are there really, Yajfiyavalkya?" "One." "Yea, so it is!" he said. 142 One obviously cannot make too much of the presence of riddles about numbers and of organization by descending number order when considered in isolation, because such forms may not be exclusive to the agonistic sacrificial paradigm. Considered alongside the abundance of explicit references to ritual matters such as alters,

fires~

groups of priests and

so forth, and the agonistic elements which we have already discovered in other parts of the

Aivamedhika Parvan, it becomes quite clear, however~ that these motifs too echo brahmodya patterns. Furthermore, when the series of riddles is examined as a set, a fascinating pattern emerges. In the second~ third and fourth riddles, the husband again and again gives voice

141I

quote only 8.. V.1.64.1-3. The translation is by Wendy Doniger O'Flaherty.

142Satapatha

Brahma1)a 11.6.3.4. Translation by Julius Eggeling.

337

to the discontent of entities which are nonnaIly considered secondary (gU{la). This tendency is most explicit in the third riddle, where a kind of marital rite of reversal is staged. The Senses are given a chance to vent their frustrations and to "speak their own mind." The irony is that from an outright rejection of the agonistic aspect of sacrifice, the riddle series slips into an enactment of exactly the kind of ritual behavior typical of these rites~

the temporary suspending of hierarchies. And just like the typical pattern found in

such rites, the last riddles come round to reestablishing the hierarchy. It may be more in tune with the agonistic concerns of the Parvan, however, to regard the wife as perfonning the role of the ritual "reviler." In other words, if we take literally the claim of the "detached husband" that he is engaged in internal "sacrifice," than his wife is simply acting out the essential sacrificial role of the outsider who must interrupt the sacrifice and challenge the sacrificer to a verbal duel. Even the wife's initial characterization of her detached husband as "cruel" and "lacking in vision" fits in perfectly with that role. Just as the yati was seriously objecting to the adhvaryu's sacrifice and at the same time completing it, so the wife is seriously objecting to her husband's "sacrifice" and at the same time, completing the analogy to sacrifice by playing the role of reviler. In a similar vein, in the debate between Mind and the Senses, the Senses irreverently equate sense-perception with scripture. Again, I would argue that the senses are acting out here the role of the nastika "reviler." The Senses represent, albeit in a comic mode, the same rival ideology which we1ve seen the yare representing more seriously in the yari-

adhvaryu- saT]tvada. After all, it was the yari heretic who said: "We instruct only from direct perception, we do not recognize what is beyond perception!" 143

143M.Bh. BOR! XIV.28.28cd.

338

ill.4.4. Agonistic Rituals, Rites of Reversal, Carnivals? This is perhaps the place to touch upon a more general question which our material raises. Some of the ritual practices which I have described as typical of "contestatory" rites - behavior such as the reviling of the divinity sexual impropriety or deliberate contact with y

impurity in a ritual context, ritual parody ~ temporary reversal of roles, disguises - are remarkably similar to practices recorded in many other societies, so that it seems appropriate to consider a wider comparative theoretical framework. The two general terms y

which immediately come to mind are"rites of reversal, "which I have just used, and "carnival" or the "camivalesque. Are these terms applicable to what we find in the

Aivamedhika Parvan, and in the Mahabharata in general? The term "carnival" has already been used with regard to the Mahabharata. In his introduction to the Book of Virata, 144 van Buitenen has suggested that the Viriita Parvan, in which the Pat:tc;lava protagonists go into a year of hiding and disguise themselves as lowcaste people. be viewed as a kind of "saturnalia," or a "literary HoIL" referring to the modem Holl spring festival which is celebrated allover North India. 145 Van Buitenen's suggestion has been criticized by de Jong, who sees "little of this carnival spirit" in the

Vira.{Ll. Parvan. De Jong finds nothing amusing about "the humiliations which the PatJgavas suffer.

II

146

Van Buitenen, I think, is on to something, yet De Jong's feeling that the use of the

tenn "carnival" is somehow off the mark is also justified. The problem is that both parties use the tenn "carnival" too unrefiectively. The question certainly cannot be reduced to whether the events of the Parvan are funny, amusing or lighthearted. Not ail masks are

144Van Buitenen1978, 3-5. 145S ee

Marriott 1966.

146S ee

de Jong 1980.

339

carnival masks. Furthermore, van Buitenen's comparison raises the very complicated question of the relationship of text to ritual without articulating what problems this may involve. Assuming that we know what a carnival is, what exactly is a "literary carnival"? The tenn camivalesque has gained currency in recent years through the work of Bakhtin, specifically his book on Rabelais. 147 Bakhtin is a complex scholar, open to more than one interpretation and problematic in many ways. Now whether Bakhtin correctly interprets Rabelais is besides the point. It is probably not even useful to even ask whether any elements of the complex situation described by Bakhtin is paralleled by the Viriita Parvan or by the riddle-series. l48 To avoid getting into these issues, I drop the term "carnival" altogether and pose in a more analytic way two separate questions. First, is the contestatory complex of themes and practices evoked in the Aivamedhika Parvan a challenge to the established hegemony in the society to which the Mahiibharata addressed itself? Second -- and this is a much broader question -- what is the cultural location of the agonistic sacrificial paradigm at different periods of South Asian history, and in particular~ at the time of the composition of the Mahiibharata? For instance, is it residual, a kind of survival from the Vedic period? Is it "folk"?

147Bakhtin 1984.

148To simplify matters greatly, Bakhtin identifies certain elements of late medieval culture which in his judgement originally come from a pagan cultural substratum as "carnivalesque." According to him, these elements were once central but under the hegemony of the Christian church in the medieval period they were suppressed marginalized and degraded to the level of "folk culture," so that they survived only in the "marketplace" or folk culture of medieval Europe. Bakhtin points out that these elements have always been recognized and tolerated by the Church, since "the folk" were allowed celebrate them on "carnival" days. Rabelais, a monk and a humanist, did something different with them. He deployed them subversively against the Church establishment and in the interest of a rising Renaissance humanism. To translate this to the terminology of Reymond Williams, Bakhtin reads Rabelais as selectively deploying residual cultural elements in the interest of an emerging ideology. y

340

The answer to the frrst question is no. We have seen that the yati adhvaryu

sa1!lvada supports the interests of brahmins, certainly no underdogs in the society of the time even if the specific context may be competition from other religious elite which do not base their authority on the Veda. We shall see that the subaltern voice is hardly represented in the Aivamedhika Parvan. There are two possible exceptions. In the dialogue between the brahmin husband and his discontent wife which we just examined~ something like a rite of reversal is enacted.

However~

and this is quite typical of such rites, the highly controlled

upheaval quickly leads to a reaffrrmation of the existing hierarchy, just as Mardi Gras is followed by Easter. The other exception~ and this is a more problematic case, the interpretation of which draws us into the much broader second question, will be a desert encounter between a Vedic sage, Uttaitka, and an untouchable hunter and his dogs. We will have to address this episode separately. The second question, regarding the cultural location of the agonistic paradigm, is incomparably more complex and would require considering much more than just the Sanskrit Mahabharata in order to answer it. I argued that the Vira!a Parvan evokes or echoes vratya associations, and that the Riddle Series echoes Vedic brahmodyas. Thus, I do trace the geneology of the contestatory paradigm to the Vedic period. But I have also mentioned that strikingly similar practices and motifs have been observed in contemporary South Asia in a definitely non-Vedic context. Most noteworthy in this respect is the

Dasara cult of MaIHirilKha~\(joba as recorded by G. D. Sonthheimer. 149 Sonthheimer too identifies Vedic, more specifically vratya elements, in the cult he describes. The devotees, for instance~ are possessed by dogs. Yet this is certainly not a "Vedic cult" in the sense that the tenn is usually used. It is practiced only by low-caste people and has traditionally been associated with stories about famous "tribal warlords" of the past. Brahmins stay as far

149S on thheimer 1981, 1984.

341

away from it as they can. The term that Sonthheimer uses is "folk." Now to describe the

Virata Parvan as a "literary Holl" is not only to suggest that the Parvan has comic

elements in it, it is also to argue that the Parvan's primary frame of reference is not the Vedic tradition, that its audience is perhaps less brahrninically oriented~ that it draws heavily on popular sources, like the bOY-~l)a cycle of the Harivarpsa. Perhaps the agonistic imagery reflects structures and motifs found in the popular cults of the time of the composition of the Mahiibharata, whatever they might have been. and that it is not referring to Vedic sources. Now this seems to bring us right back to one of the basic questions in Mahiihharata studies. Is the Sanskrit Mahabharata primarily "a text for women and iiidras," or is it a text controlled and transmitted by brahmins, a text which reflects the interests and concerns of this educated elite, and is addressed to their patrons, namely kings? I have argued in Chapter I that we have good reasons to suspect that not all parts of the textual tradition are produced by the same circles and directed at the same audience, so that it is useless to attempt to answer the question in a general way. I have also pointed out that motifs, customs and structures are not in themselves socially or politically committed. Different people can use similar motifs or structures in the service of different interests. Thus, even if an agonistic paradigm seems to be central to many parts of the Mahiibhiirata, I still believe that we have no choice but to examine different textual units separately to understand their orientation in each case. In the Aivamedhika Parvan, for instance, I find that the agonistic motifs are deployed to support a Vedic centered religio-politicaI culture. It is steeped in Vedic sacrificial associations and and these associations are evoked in the interests of kings and brahmins. It is highly removed from the world of the "folk" or "women and Siidras." I feel quite confident in asserting that this Parvan's primary intertextual frame of reference is

342

the Vedic textual tradition and not whatever popular fonus of worship existed at the time of its composition.

ill.4.S. The Anugltii Context of the Yoga as Internal Sacrifice Riddle Series I have so far ignored the Anuglta context of the Yoga as Internal Sacrifice unit. The Anuglta (M.Bh. BORI XIV. 16-50) is a longish discourse embedded right in the middle of the Aivamedhika Parvan. Its extant is about a third of the length of the critical text of the Parvan itself. It stands out distinctly from the rest of the Parvan in two respects. Firs~

unlike the rest of the Parvan. it has hardly any narrative content. Its content is

doctrinal and its style is didactic, despite the fact that ~lJa presents it as an "itihiisa.

It

Second" the goal of life with which it is concerned is mo/qa, a religious ideal which is not once referred to in the rest of the Aivamedhika Parvan, which is clearly about dharma. Furthermore, it advocates the attainment of that goal through knowledge Uiiana) and has therefore less concern with karman. which is a central preoccupation in the rest of the Parvan.

The piece is put in the mouth of Kr~Q.a and addressed to Arjuna. The occasion is a moment of peace while the two friends were relaxing together after the fighting was over. The discourse is called the Anuglta, the "Second Glta. because it quite explicitly presents tr

itself as a partial equivalent to the more famous BhagavadgFtii. Equivalent, in the sense that effectively its message is the "same" as that of the Glt~ since it is just as capable of leading the listener.

Arjun~

to the foremost religious end (gatim agryam)~ namely molqa.

Partial and secondary, because as ~IJa explains. the Bhagavadgltii is "secret and eternal" (guhyam snatanam), it is more than sufficient (suparyQpto) for attaining the knowledge of brahman~

and it was revealed by

Kr~Qa

when he was in a state of yogic concentration. All

of these do not hold for the Anugua, so that it is definitely a "second best" revelation.

343

I will not address in full the rather complex content and structure of this unit. This study is less concerned with understanding the doctrines in themselves and more concerned with the form in which they are delivered and with the way in which they are introduced and integrated into a narrative and ritual-oriented Parvan. In the past the Anuglta has always been studied in subordination to the study of the history of religious

doctrine. Looking for doctrinal innovation scholars have found y

none~

and thus dismissed

the unit as a "rehash of what (Arjuna's) far more religious minded brother has been told by the dying grandsire" (Zaehner) or an amalgamation of Sfuikhya-Yoga and Vedanta carried It

even further" (Eliade).lSO Similarly, studies of proto-Sankhya thought have tended to address the Sankhya passages of the Anugltii subparvan only in passing, since these are considered rather late.l 51 Arvind Sharma is something of an exception to this. He devotes a short chapter to the Anug[tii in his interesting study of the history of the interpretations of the Bhagavadglta. 1S2 He points out that the Anugltii is important because it is the earliest extant "comment, if not commentary, on the Bhagavadglta, within the Hindu tradition

y tI

and thus gives us a glimpse into how the Grtii was interpreted about five centuries earlier than Sailkara's Bhii$Ya. If we approach the Anuglta this way, argues Sharma, than any omissions of themes found in the Gita should not be simply viewed as lack of originality, but as deliberate interpetive strategy or stand. The absence of the famous devotional elements of the Glta, the absence of a theophanYt indicate that the Anugltii stands in the same line of interpretation of the BhagavadgltQ as Saitkara, who emphasized the jnana or knowledge elements in the Bhagavadgua over its bhakti or devotional elements.

150Sharma 1986, 1-2, notes 3-6. ISIPor example Johnston 1937,4-6; Larson 1979, 108. 152Sharma 1986~ 1-11.

344

I agree with Shanna's main point entirely, of course. Nevenheless, he too is interested in the Anugita only in so far as it is an early recapitulation or interpretation of the Bhagavadgita. This is quite legitimate, but as a result he neglects to notice the peculiarities

of the unifs fonn. The Yoga as Internal Sacrifice unit, for instance, is entirely overlooked, because from the doctrinal point of view the unit is so obscure that the temptation is to simply to gloss it over. This study is concerned not with doctrine, but with textual strategies which enabled the introducation of various points of view into the textual tradition. We have been asking why certain units were placed where they were in the organization of the Aivamedhika Parvan, and found that the underlying logic is dialogic or contestatory, that different points

of view are often pitted against each other. I argue that the presence of the Anuglrii in the middle of the Aivamedhika Parvan can be understood in similar tenns. The textual strategy is quite similar to what we have seen in the attaching of The Discourse on the

Enemy Within, where the negation of all conflict and struggle is presented as a form of victory, to the story of The Brhaspati- SaTflvarta Rivalry, in which conflict is constitutive of reality .153 The persons responsible for the integration of the Anugua into the Aivamedhika Parvan were advocates for the religious ideal of mo/qa, but in order to

insinuate this position into a narrative Parvan which is profoundly committed to a contestatory sacrificial world view, they had to present their own religious ideals in tenns of the internalization of contestatory sacrificial action. Thus, yoga becomes an "intemal sacrifice.

1F

What, if anything, is retained in the Anltglta from the contestatory-ritualistic orientation which so deeply permeates other parts of our Parvan? Nothing, perhaps, except

153S ee

chapter m.2.

345

a transformative or the processual sensibility to discourse, which the logic of ritual riddling confers on ~Qa's discourse to Arjuna even though it is not a ritual text.

In an interesting recent article on the role of riddles in rituals, Don Handelman observes the curious fact that riddling is often found in transformative rituals, for instance. in initiatory rites or in marriage and death rituals. l54 According to Handelman's analysis, the riddle is an inherently processual form, because it involved the setting up of a boundary or a distinction and its eventual overcomming. This is why riddles are sometimes used in rituals meant to effect a transfonnation or a crossing of boundaries between categories. In the light of Handelman's insight I would argue that the transformative force of the riddle is transferred into Kr~I)a's doctrinal discourse, in as much as ~I)a insists that the Anugita possesses a transfonnative power over the person which engages in listening to it. Just as the brahmin's wife who engaged in a verbal contest with her husband finally attained

molqa, so Arjun~ despite his inability to retain the teaching of the first Glta, will reach mo/qa by just listening attentively to the second Gita.

ill.S. Shifting Guilt in the Horse Sacrifice Complex Unit (M.Bh.

BORI XIV.61-91)

ill.S .1. A Sacrificial Logic Connects Apparently Independent Episodes The agonistic concept of sacrifice involves an oscillation between a state of cosmic dispersion during which wealth is violently collected., and a state of cosmic contraction, during which wealth is completely and magnanimously redistributed. The first state is associated with death and impurity. the second with birth and life:. From this point of view,

lS4Handeiman 1996.

346

the Description of the Horse Sacrifice (M.Bh. BORI XIV. 70-91) should be understood

as closely intertwined with the episodes of The Expedition to the Himalaya (M.Bh. BOR! XIV.62-64) and with the episode of ParIlqit's Revival (M.Bh. BORI XIV.61;XIV.65-69). This supposition is supported by the fact that the story of the expedition is narrated right in the middle of the P~it episode and is so positioned chronologically as to make it synchronic with P~it's still-birth and subsequent revival by Kr.Hla.

m.S.2. Doing the Impossible:Description of the Horse Sacrifice (M.Bh. BORI

XN.70-91) Let us first tum to The Description o/the Horse Sacrifice. These are the events which occur after Panlq;it has been revived, and after the expedition has returned from the Himalaya with so much wealth that it can hardly carry the burden. These events begin with Yudhi~thira's

fonnal declaration of his intention to sacrifice, his equally fonnal request that

Kr$Qa, instead of himself, should be the yajamana, and Kr$Qa's insistence that only Yudhi~thira

is the proper sacrificer (M.Bh. BOR! XIV.70). They end with the ritual

slaughter, dissection and burning of the horse, and with the distribution of the ritual gifts

(da/qinas), the most important part of which is definitely

Yudhi~thira·s

granting of the

whole earth - the earth which has just been conquered by him - to Vyasa, the representative of the brahmin val7)a. Just as in the exchange with

Kr~Qa

at the beginning

of the rite, Vyasa rejects the offer, and requests that instead of the whole earth~ brahmins should be simply given the king's gold.

Yudhi~thirafs

legitimacy as the ruler of the whole

earth is established by his having given it away and then legally and non-violently acquired it from its "real" owners, the

brahmins~

\vho are, of course, "gods on earth." This

exchange is not a simple purchase even though the exchange is described in tenns of

347

buying or ransoming. ISS Rather, it is a classic case of "total prestations." I 56 It is done according to the logic of excess. The whole earth is given away ~ then taken back in exchange for all the wealth which the king possesses. While the wealth is given primarily to brahmins. it is by extension given to everyone present, and note that the whole world is said to be present. The king's wealth is distributed to people of ail va17)as, down to the diverse tribes of mlecchas, no one is excluded, no one is dissatisfied (M.Bh. BORI XlV.91). A major part of The Description of the Horse Sacrifice is devoted to the roaming of the horse under the protection of an army headed by Arjuna (M.Bh. BORI XlV.73-89). We have already pointed out that the roaming of the horse in the ASvamedha rite has a strong contestatory quality. It is essentially a challenge to battle directed at all the surrounding kings. In the Afvamedhika Parvan. however, the distinctive aspect of the account of the roaming of the horse is the constant insistence on the non-violence of the whole affair. There is repeated reference to

Yudhi~thira's

instructions to

Atjun~

given just

before Arjuna sets out with the horse and its retinue: But these mighty-anned kings who may rise against you, Faultless One, You must contrive so that there will not be conflict with them.

eM.Bh. BORI XIV. 7 1.23) The first encounter was with the Trigartas. l57 Arjuna tried to pacify these avowed enemies of his even while they attacked, but they showered him with arrows.

o Bharata! With a smile, AIjuna said (to the Trigartas): 155 prthivya ni$kraya'll dattvii tad dhiraQyarp yudhi~Plira dhutapapmajitasvargo mumude bhratrbhil) saba (M.Bh.BORI XIV.91.22) 156Mauss 1923-4 (1967), 3.

lS7M.Bh.BORI XIV.73.

348

"Tum

back~

0 you who are ignorant of Dhanna ~ Your very life is precious ~"

For as that hero was going forth (to protect the horse) he had been checked by Yudhi~thira

thus:

"You should not kill the kings, Partha, whose relatives have been slain." (M.Bh.BORI XIV.73.6-7)

Since the Triganas were unwilling to tum back, Arjuna eventually had no choice but to

fight~

but he refrained from taking the life of a young warrior prince who attacked him

fiercely, and did not employ all his strength until the young man made the mistake of laughing at his disadvantage when he dropped his bow. This misdemeanor filled Arjuna with fury and he killed many of the Trigartas until they surrendered. 15S The second encounter, at Pdigjyoti~a, was with king Vajradatta, whose valor apparantly equaled Arjuna's because his father, Bhagadatta, was a friend of Indra, Atjuna's divine father. 159 Bhagadatta himself had been slain by Arjuna at Kuruk~etra, and Vajradana, determined to avenge his father, used a fierce elephant to anack Arjuna. The long battle between those two heroes of equal valor was only resolved when Arjuna slew the elephant. He of course spared Vajradatta's life, and explained: When I went forth,

Yudhi~thira

told me:

'You must not kill kings on any account, Dhanaiijaya. Tiger Among Men, you should only do so much: Fight, but not kill in battle, Dhanaiijaya~ And you should also tell those kings and their companions: 'You must take part in

Yudhi~!hira's

horse sacrifice' ...

So Vajradana accepted the invitation to Yudhi~Plira's sacrifice. 160

158M.Bh.BORI XIV.73.22-32. 159M.Bh.BORI XIV.74-7S. J60M.Bh.BORI XIV.7S.20-24.

349

In the third encounter, with the Saindhavas, whose king had been killed by Arjuna at Kurulqietr~

Arjuna himself was nearly killed. 161 He lost consciousness~ and only the

intervention of the gods and nis who chanted mantras on his behalf in heaven revived him. When he regained his energy. he fought so fiercely that he was about to kill them all. but suddenly he remembered the words of Yudhi~thira: "Child, in battle you should (only) defeat victory-craving kings, not kill them! "162 He stopped fighting and tried to pacify them. They, however" would not give up the fight, so he had to fight back in self defence, and had already slain many of the Saindhavas when their queen DUQsaHi, who was the only sister of the hundred Kaurava brothers and so happened to be Arjuna's cousin, came begging for peace with her baby in her arms. At this sight Arjuna was filled with grief, and condemning (vigarhayan) the dharma of warriors, made peace with them and invited them to the horse-sacrifice. The fourth encounter, at MCU}ipur~ stands out among all the other encounters because here Arjuna himself was actually killed. The local king, Babhruvahana, was Arjuna's own son through princess Chitraitgada 163 Babhruvabana was naturally reluctant to fight with his own father. Arjuna however, "remembering the dharma of warriors" angrily commanded his son to attack. As Babhruvahana stood hesitating, one of Arjuna's other wives, the serpent princess UlUp'L emerged suddenly out of the earth (where serpents live) and urged her step-son to accept his father's challenge. Babhruvahana did not want to disobey his step-mother, so he fought. In fact, he fought so well that he managed to kill his father! As Arjuna lay dead, Babhruvahana's mother Chitrangada appeared. She lamented bitterly, both blaming her co-wife Uliipl for their common lord's death and

161M.Bh.BORI XIV.76-77. 162M.Bh.BORI XlV.77.7. 163M.Bh.BORI XIV.78-82.

350

entreating her to use her serpent-powers to revive him. Finally, Chitrangada sat down to fast herself to death. Babhruvahana recovered from the swoon brought about by the realization that he had actually killed his own father, and he too followed his mother's example and prepared to commit suicide through fasting. This somewhat unusual family crisis was only resolved when the serpent-wife, UliipI, produced the magic gem of life which only serpents have at their command, and used it to revive Arjuna. Then she proceeded to explain that she had done it all in order to enable Arjuna to atone for the sin he had acquired by having killed Bhi$ma deceitfully. According to UIiipI, had Arjuna not been slain by Babhruvahana, he would surely have had to "do time n in hell after his death. She also explained why Arjuna' son Babhruvahana, and no other, had to be the instrument of killing Arjuna. The point was that no one at ail was in fact capable of vanquishing Arjuna in battle. The son, however, is "one's own self." This is why Babhruvahana, being none other than "Arjuna himself," was the only person equal to the task. The fifth encounter returns to the regular pattern. l64 The place is Rajagrha, and the king is Meghasandhi, the grandson of larasandha, the powerful king of Magadha and Cedi whom Bhima had killed in order to "clear the way" for the Rajasiiya sacrifice of the Sabhii Parvan. 165 Meghasandhi fought hard, but eventually was defeated. Arjuna spared his life,

explained about

Yudhi~thira's

prohibition against killing, and invited him to the horse

sacrifice. 166 Next comes the Southern part of the horse's round. 167 The many Southern encounters are recounted only briefly in our Parvan. All of them involved only a (more or

164M.Bh.BORI XIV.83.

165For the killing of ladisandha see M.Bh. BOR! ll.22. Kl B 1,3-5~ D have "Sahadeva's son" instead of "larasandha's grandson." I 66M.Bh.

BORI XIV.83.2S.

167M.Bh. BORI XIV.84.

351

less) nominal battle. In Suktimati, the capital of Cedi, Arjuna vanquished Sarabha. the son of Sisupila. He defeated the KaSls, the Andhras, the Kosalas, the Kiratas and the TaIigI)as. and was duly worshipped by them. He defeated king Citrailgada of DaSarqa. and Ekalavya, the king of the Ni~adas. On the Southern ocean he vanquished the

DraviQas~

the

Andhras and the Mahi~akas. He fought the hill dwellers of Kolla and the kings of Gokat1Ja and Prabhasa. Then he arrived at the V~IJi capital Dvaravati. where he was greeted warmly by

Kr~lJa's

old father, king Vasudeva, after a mock battle with the city's youths.

The last encounter, the seventh one if we count the Southern round as a single point of the compass, took place in the Westero city of Gandhara The king of that place was an especially bitter enemy of the P3:Q.gavas, being the son of Sakuni, the man who was instrumental in initiating the dice game as a result of which the PfuJQavas lost their kingdom. The Gandharas fought fiercely. Arjuna tried to pacify them and told them about Yudhi~thira's

command, but to no avail. 168 They refused to make peace, so many of them

had to be killed. Nevertheless, Arjuna spared Sakuni's son. When the defeated king's mother came begging for his life, he remembered Gandhan (princess of Gandhara, mother of the Kauravas, sister of the slain enemy Sakuni) so he released him, saying: Let this not happen (again)! Let hostilities cease! Do not be of such a mind (again)! Come to the horse sacrifice of our king on the next full moon of the month of Citra.

eM.Bh. BORI XIV.85.23) Apart from the episode at MaI).ipura~ which needs to be addressed separately. I think the pattern is quite clear. The recurring theme is the reluctance to commit violence. the

168M.Bh. BORI XIV.85.9c-f.

352

effort to commit only as little violence as is necessary. The performance of the horsesacrifice is presented as the means to establishing a stable political order~ a super-regional peace based on non-violence.

ill.S.3. The Nevertheless Unavoidable Violence Now that this has been said, the MaIJipura episode demands special consideration. In a very well known article~ Robert Goldman contends that the killing of Arjuna by his son is one of the few overt cases of oedipal patricide recorded in Sanskrit literature. 169 While I wouldn't want to altogether reject the relevance of a narrow psychoanalytic interpretation, I think the episode" being part of The Description of the Horse Sacrifice, cannot be divorced from its place in a sacrificially oriented world view. In fact, many of the South Asian stories which have become the standard examples of the "passive" psychoanalytic pattern typical of the Hindu oedipal conflict are cast in sacrificial terms too -- the father symbolically ~astrateslkills the son, and that amounts to a "sacrifice" and an "initiation." The Ganesa Mary is a classic example of that. 170 Similarly, the setting of the Babhruvabana episode in the Aivamedhika Parvan brings out the network of sacrificial associations of Arjuna's death at the hand of his son even more than it brings out the oedipal connotations. AIjuna's death is about guilt and expiation. As the serpent-wife

UliipI explains, it was necessary that Arjuna should get killed because the evil of killing Bhl~ma deceitfully had to be wiped out. Since the whole undertaking in the context of

169He also argues that in Sanskrit literature an oedipal conflict is usually disguised as a conflict with an older male figure of an authoritative starus such as a guru or a maternal uncle. Granted that, the Babhruvahana-Arjuna conflict should~ in Goldman's view, be seen as part of a generational chain of oedipal conflicts and resulting guilt: Bhl~ma has an oedipal conflict with his guru Jamadagni; Arjuna kills his "father" Bhi~ma; Babhruvahana "kills" his father Arjuna. Goldman 1978. 170See

Courtright 198592-129.

353

which this episode occurs - the horse sacrifice - is for the sake of wiping out the sin of having killed one's relatives, the specificity of BhI~ma as/ather or father figure, which a psychoanalytic interpretation would require, seems problematic. Many of the enemies encountered by Arjuna on his round are relatives of various degrees, or at least relatives of close allies. At Pdigjyoto~~ AIjuna's opponent is the son of a friend of Indra. With the Saindhavas, the queen happens to be Arjuna's cousin and the child heir-apparent is therefore his cousin's son. The king of Gandhar~ Sakuni's son, is somehow related through Gandhan. The king of Suktimati, capital of Cedi, is Sisuprua's son, and Sisuprua is the son of KntQa's sister. And so on and so forth - the point here is that in the

Kuruk~etra

war, the enemies were all relatives of some degree. as Arjuna knew very well since he so eloquently expressed this same point in his famous dialogue with

Kr~Qa

on the battlefield.

The horse-sacrifice is perfonned to wipe out the sin of having killed relatives. It may seem ironic, or outright illogical, that one would have to be killed by a relative in order to wipe out the sin of having killed one's relatives, but this is in fact the logic underlying the agonistic paradigm of sacrifice, in which the role of sacrificer and victim alternate and the sin keeps shifting from one party to another. The agonistic sacrificial paradigm lacks a mechanism of stopping the cycle of violence.

m.S.4. Narrative and Ritual Splittings Heesterman has argued that the death-and-rebirth symbolism and the resulting impurity of the dl~ita of the "classical" Soma ritual, hark back to the raiding expeditions of the vratya bands of the "pre-classical" period. Falk's work provides further support to the connection drawn between the classical dlqu and the earlier practices of the vratyas.

In the vratya's warrior rites~ the theme of self-sacrifice and redemption through death in battle was quite explicit. In the "classical" dl/qa, this was translated into a symbolic death,

354

but Heestennan has pointed out that in the royal Srauta rituals this development is not quite complete and the pre-cIassicaI patterns are often retained alongside the classical ones. 171 I contend that in the Aivamedhika Parvan., the wandering of the horse and the dlk$Q of the sacrificer are dual aspects of the same ritual stage. Arjuna., the horse's guardian. serves as a kind of alter-ego of Yudhi~thira~ the proper dllqita. Arjuna is the one that does the necessary "dirty work" of fighting and killing one's kinsmen .. of incurring the sin of violence., of actually dying in battle.

Arjun~

in other words, performs the sacrificial actions

that Yudhi~thi~ being the classical dl~ita, cannot fully act out. One may look at the structure of the narrative here in tenns of splitting or displacement. The older brother, Yudhi~thir~ becomes a dl~ita. He turns into an embryo and dies symbolically., to be

revived again at the end of the d[lqa. Meanwhile., Arjuna is fighting and killing the surrounding kings, and he even gets killed., and

revived~

himself.

But this basic displacement does not seem to be enough. While Arjuna does the necessary diny work that

Yudhi~thira

cannot do, there is still an attempt to keep his purity

intact. This is why there is so much emphasis on the non-violence of Atjuna's dealing with his opponents. The need to have AIjuna do the killing and not do it at the same time calls for one more splitting or displacement. Besides the horse's wandering through the countryside, there is the trip to the Himalayas to get the hidden gold. Having an independent, "clean" source of wealth ensures the purely "rituar' quality of the battle rounds which in the agonistic sacrifice and in political practice had much to do with looting. Marotta's buried treasure is "clean," like all inherited wealth. It is as clean as the vegetarian sacrifices which had been offered by Agastya in his sattra. 172 No violence is involved in obtaining it.

171 Heestennan

1962, 1987.

172Above section ID.3.3.4.

355

But even this apparently faultless way of obtaining the goods of life must have its y

y

dark double. While the expedition is busy digging the gold out of the earth~ Arjunats grandson is still-born and must be revived" a "real life" (or rather, narrative) enactment of the basic d[/qii symbolism of death and return to the womb in order to be reborn.173 The two complementary symbolic clusters with which the Vedic d[qii resonates: that of the impure vriitya cul~ with its periodical plundering raids, and that of return to the womb and to the condition of an embryo, are evoked twice by the two pairs of simultaneous branches of the narrative. The dynamic relationship between narrative structures and ritual ones is very similar to what has already been observed by van Buitenen with regard to the Sabhii Parvan, and strongly supports the validity of his insight of parallelisms between ritual and narrative elements. 174 Both in the case of the Sabha

Parvan and here, the reason for the splitting is the need to obscure or contain the violence of the sacrifice and of the world-order which it stands for. Thus, even though the Babhruvahana episode is not primarily about conflicts within the nuclear family, a logic of displacements and distortions is at work here, because there is a denial of the violence which is at the heart of sacrifice.

ill.5.S. A New, Non-violent Kind of Sacrifice? One way to put this point is in terms of legitimation. It must be absolutely assured that the materials for the performance of Yudhi~thira's sacrifice will not be perceived as having been obtained in battle, because

Yudhi~thira's

sovereignty must not be perceived as

tainted by the use of brute force. The king must at all costs not be perceived as a mere bandit. This great effort is necessary precisely because The Description of the Horse 1730n the embryo symbolism, see Biardeau 1971,31, 75ff, and Hiltebeitel310312; 336-360. 174Above section

rn. 1.6. 1.

356

Sacrifice in the Afvamedhika Parvan is an affirmation of kingship based on patronage of sacrifice, or of the institution of sacrifice as the foundation of dharma or the socio-cosmic order. It is not, however. a simple affrrmation. It is an affinnation which breaks at the seams. unable to contain its OWn contradictions. I have opened my analysis of the Aivamedhika Parvall with the heretic'S accusation

that "sacrifice is violence." Nevertheless, the denial of sacrificial violence in the Parvan is not addressed to any critical outsiders. The debate in it is internal. it addresses the other

within the community of those who accept the authority of the Veda and sacrifice. It must be so, since the very problem is conceived and expressed in terms accessible only to the insider. We were able to have this revealing peek into the complex. tension-ridden process of making a cultural-religious identity, because the Aivamedhika Parvan is not engaged in oven polemics with the ideological other. This is an argument around the family table, there is no need to maintain a perfectly coherent front. Yudhighira's instruction that Arjuna should fight in earnest, defeat, but not kill. embodies this ambiguity. Arjuna condemns "the dharma of warriors" ]75 upon seeing his sister queen DUQsala, her baby in her arms. coming to beg for mercy. Soon after. he angrily commands his own son, Babhruvanana, to fight him to death "remembering the dharma of warriors. 176 Arjuna is unhappy with II

the dharma of warriors and at the same time feels commited to it. The anxiety regarding the deterioration of sacrifice into violence is again made explicit in AIjuna's message to Yudhi~thira

(via Kr~I)a) just before the round with the horse was completed, when all the

subdued kings were about to tum up at Hastinapura:

175"k~atradhannarp

vigarhayan" (M.Bh.BOR! XIV.77.39d) The third encounter,

with the Saindhavas. 176"k~atradharmam

MalJipura.

anusmaran" (M.Bh.BORI XIV.78.2d) The fourth encounter. at

357

Kings will be coming from all directions towards the Kauravas. To each and every one of them honor should be paid. for this (conduct) befits us. The king Kr~Q~ should also be humbly requested: Let the calamity that can come about during the water-offering not take place! 9

(M.Bh.BORI XIV.88.1S- 16)

In the grand scheme of the Mahiibhiirata the horse-sacrifice of the Aivanzedlzika 9

Parvan is to some extent posed as the positive counterpoint to the Rajasiiya sacrifice of the

Sabha Parvan. What went wrong there. must not go wrong here. There is a suggestion. a hope, that a new kind of sacrifice. a new kind of political order. can be established. I 77 To return to the difficult question of dating the Parvan. one wonders if Samudragupta's claim in an inscription, that in his round of conquest he only defeated his enemies and then released and reinstated them, only echoes the Aivamedhika Pan-all motif or has to do directly with it. There is a sense of a fresh, clean start, embodied by the image of the revived Parl~it. This moment of optimism is however only a facet of a phase in the M ahiibhGrata's complex positioning in history. We know that Parl~it died of a snake bite

and that his son, Janamejaya, is listening to the recounting of the story while engaged in another agonistic rite - the snake sacrifice.

l77See Kulke and Rothennund, 87.

358

ill.6. Uttaitka: Encounters With God and with Serpents (M.Bh. BOR! XIV.52-57)

ill. 6. 1. The Uttailka Story Complex in the Mahabharata Uttaitka is referred to as a Bhargav~ an offspring of the famous sage Bhrgu. I have not so far found any reference to Uttaftka's name in pre-epic literature. Almost all the material found in the Mahabharata dealing with this figure is concentrated in two units belonging to the Adi Parvan and the Aivamedha Parvan (M.Bh. BORI 1.3 and XIV.5257).178 In both Parvans" Uttailka is presented as a student of the Veda (brahmaciirin) of

outstanding devotion to his teacher. Upon the completion of his

studies~

he set out on a

quest for a pair of magic earrings, which his guru's wife demanded from him as the "graduation" gift which the student of the Vede traditionally was required to present to his preceptor. The quest for the magic earrings took Uttailka through some strange ordeaIs~ and as far as the underworld of the serpents. He was finally able to retrieve the earrings from the Nagas and to present them to his guru's wife. The Uttaftka episodes have so far received scant scholarly attention. Laine's study of epiphanies in the Mahiibhiirata (1989) has a chapter on "Visions of Seers," a good part of which is devoted to Uttruika's desert vision of Kr~T).a. Goldman's 1971 study of the Bhargava cycle for some reason does not treat UttaIika. Doniger has discussed the

Uttanka Story briefly in her [986 article on the Adi Parvan, and refers to it in passing elsewhere. Though it does not address the Uttanka episode itself, White's 1992 article on encounters between hungry brahmin !$is and outcast "dog- cookers" has been useful to me in that it recognizes the vriitya imagery which such encounters generally invoke.

178S ee

also minor references in M.Bh. BORI ill.37.

359

In the Aivamedhika Parvan., the story about Uttaitka's student-days adventure is presented as an explanation~ or elaboration. of another incident, to which no reference is made in-the Adi Parvan. That incident. more than the story of the quest for the earrings, is the heart of the Aivamedhika Parvan version of the Uttailka story.

m.6.2. The Desert Encounters (M.Bh_ BORI XIV.54.1-35) m.6.2.1. Uttailka and

Kr~l)a

Some time after the battle was over.

Kr~Qa

took leave of Arjuna and

Yudhi~t.hira,

and

set out to go to his city Dvaraki, to visit bis old father Vasudeva. On the way he had to pass through a desert, where he came upon the wandering ascetic, UttaiJka. The old desert dwelling sage seemed to be a little out of touch with things, and oblivious of the fact that the disastrous war had just taken place. He inquired whether Kr~Qa had successfully reconciled the Pandavas and the Kauravas, and when he found out what had really happened, namely, that almost all members of both sides had been killed in the bloody battle, he was filled with wrath, and threatened to curse Kr~IJa. In his view. the omniscient and omnipotent

Kr~Qa,

though able to prevent the terrible carnage at Kuru~etra., allowed it

to happen, "acting deceitfully (mithyacara).tI Kr~l}.a

soothed Uttailka's anger, and explained that Uttanka would only lose all his

tapas, accumulated through a life of chastity, if he cursed him. Uttanka reconsidered, and asked to hear Kr~Qa's perfect "discourse on the Self (adhyatma),' before he curses Kr~IJa

Kr~I).a.

went on to discourse at length about his identity, with the creator and destroyer of all

things and so fonh. 179 Uttaitka was converted, and asked Kr~Qa to grant him a direct vision of his universal form as

Vi~Qu,

the same vision which Arjuna had at

Kuruk~etra.

His wish was granted, and (having become one of the few people who have had such a

Laine describes this type of divine discourse as "self predication" or "I am sayings." See Laine 1989, 161. 179

360

direct epiphany) Uttailka sang the praises of Kr~I)a

Kr$1J~

pleased, granted him a boon

that he should have water whenever he wished it just by thinking of him. Each then went

his own way.180 The editor of the Parvan, Karmarkar, who generally, found the desert-encounter episode "irrelevant and absurd," has suggested that it was placed right after the Anugltii section of the Aivamedhika Parvan in order to strengthen the claim that the Anugltii is equal in status to the Bhagavadglta. According to Karmarkar, the logic of expansion at work here is simply that if the Bhagavadgltii includes an epiphany, the Anuglta must include one as well. The problem with this argument is that the Anugltii was addressed to AIjun~

not to Uttailka. 181 Laine, who studied epiphanies in the Mahiibharata, is also

concerned with this episode in as much as it is an epiphany story. He classifies it, however, as a typical "Pur3'.Qic" and "mythical" variation of the epiphany genre, the meaning of which is best understood in tenns of unconscious structural oppositions reflecting "the ambiguity of the ascetic's role and power." 182 We shall see, on the contrary, that the episode is not absurd, and that it fits quite well into the Parvan's concern with agonistic themes. Furthennore, this relatively late ("Purfu}.ic") vision is an artful manipulation and appropriation of the archaic (early and middle "Vedic") logic of agonistic

rituaL We have seen that most of the text of the Parvan revolves around the debate concerning the tenn "sacrifice" (yajiia), a term which claims to encompass all aspects of reality, spanning the spheres that we today would be inclined to ascribe to separate spheres

180M.Bh.BORI XIV.S2.1-54.13. 181M.Bh. BORI vol. 8, p.468, note 54.

182Laine 1989, 169-171.

361

such as ritual, political, natural, psychological. One of the most important among these is the trope that compares, or even equates, the battle of Kuru~etra to a "sacrifice," often understood in agonistic terms. In the UttaIika episode, this trope is given the special twist which we have already encountered so many times in the Aivamedhika Parvan. namely. the sacrifice is both reviled and praised. If the yan played the reviler to the adhvaryu's (external) sacrifice, and the wife, the reviler to the detached husband's (internal) sacrifice. then UttaIika here plays the same role to ~lJa's cosmic

"sacrifice~"

namely to his role in

the near total destruction of the lqatriya race in the battle of Ku~etra.

~I)~

on the

other hand, in reciting the adhyatma, plays the role of his own praiser. ffi.6.2.2. UttaIika and the Hunter Up to this point, it does not seem like much of a debate, however. Uttatlka does not offer real resistance, and accepts his divine opponent's position immediately. If the story had stopped here, I would have been inclined to agree with Heestennan, that the ruling paradigm in the Mahabharata has successfully suppressed the agonistic paradigm. But this is not the end of the story, because soon after, when Uttarika was wandering in the desert, he felt thirsty. He thought of ~1Ja, and suddenly a naked matanga (an outcast hunter, a ca1)¢a/a) all smeared with din, appeared before him. The hunter was carrying a sword, a bow, arrows, and surrounded by a pack of dogs. From his urinary organs came a stream of water. This extremely impure person invited Uttanka to drink the water issuing from his penis. The strict brahmin refused, of course, to drink this essence of impurity, and in his wrath, censured Kr~IJa. Instantly, the hunter disappeared, and in his place ~IJa appeared.

~IJ.a

explained

to Uttaitka that the hunter was in fact Indra.. whom he himself had commanded to give Uttruika amrta in the fonn of water. According to ~lJa, Indra was only willing to obey his instructions on the condition that the nectar of immortality should be presented to

362

UttaIika in the fonn of the urine of an outcast hunter. UttaIika had thus just missed a rare opportunity to become an

im.mortal~

and in a way he failed an ordeal. y

Nevertheless~ ~Qa

granted him the boon that whenever he should feel thirsty in the desert and think of ~Q.a. a cloud should appear and shower water on him. This is why the "Uttailka clouds" shower water even today on desert areas. IS3 Indra offers Uttailka amrta, albeit disguised in a highly unattractive, impure form. 184 Uttaitka's refusal to drink~ and his wrath" which leads him to censure

~Q~

are not

surprising - he responds like a typical devout brahmin who is much concerned for his 9

ritual purity, and even more so being a

Bhargav~

since the brahmins of this family are

particularly prone to anger. The point is, however that UttaiIka thereby misses the chance y

to become immortal and must be satisfied with a compensatory prize, the boon of being able to invoke rain clouds when he needs them. Actually - and here I make a strong interpretive statement - he not only misses a chance to become more than he is, namely, an immortal, but also loses what he already has, namely, all his good /canna. He becomes so angry at what he perceives as practical joke at his Indr~

expense~

Kr~IJa's

that he censures him. Since the matanga was not ~Q~ but

and since the liquid was not urine, but nectar, Krgla is not "really" at fault. This

unjustified censure activates the logic operative both in the older agonistic rituaIs~ and in the Pasupata practice (which is quite likely to be contemporary to the Aivamedhika Parvan) of provoking unmerited censure. ISS That logic is as follows. When you censure someone

183M.Bh.BORI XIV.54.14-S4.35.

184Doniger's structural analysis shows that urine, and especially the urine of a bull, is often equated with amrta. Doniger 1976 341. In the Adi Parvan version of the Uttaitka story Indra appears to Uttaitka who has just set out on his search for the earrings riding on a bull, and bids him drink the bull's urine, which he does. 9

185For the Pasupatas, see above section m.2.4.

363

unjustly, you loose your good !carman to that person, and you get the other's bad kannan instead.

~I)a

has explicitly referred to this logic in the first encounter, when he warned

Uttailka that cursing would entail a loss of all accumulated tapas. Not only does poor Uttailka miss a chance to become immortal, he also is tricked into playing again the role of the reviler, and this time, since the blame is definitely unjustified., he definitely loses.

ill.6.2.3. Divine Masquerades Let us sum up our observations so far. There have been two encounters. The first one was a direct encounter between

~I)a

and UttaIika. The second encounter was

mediated, with Kr§I)a., represented by - or I should say, disguised as - Indra., who encounters Uttailka. I contend that these are but two facets of a single event., one more case of displacement or splitting. l86 The first encounter is the purified, ItcIassicaI" fonn of the "ritual," where the violence is done away with successfully. Uttailka reviles. Kr§l)a praises, Uttailka is converted and praises., end of story. The second encounter is the verbal contest's darker shadow, so to speak. Here, the inevitable impurity and violence. without which the ritual would not really be complete or efficacious, gets shifted around. The logic is openly agonistic or contestatory. Kr~I)a

shows his famous double face in this double encounter. In his benevolent.,

gracious aspect, he talks Uttanka out of spending all his tapas on a useless curse, and offers a comforting theodicy. He even literally shows himself in his full glorious form. as he "really" is. Then he put on a mask, and in the guise of the older and meaner god, Indra, he causes Uttailka to lose just what he has claimed to be so concerned about protecting for him before -- his tapas and his good karman! Of course, it can all be blamed on

Indr~

but

we should not be fooled by this. Indra, as well as the hunter, are here just forms or masks of Kr~I)a.

186See

above m.S.4. for narrative and ritual splitting.

364

In this ambivalent epiphany, revealing and concealing. the "mask" and the ureal face.," strangely converge. UttaIika's charge, that ~Q.a is nmithyiicara" has proven to be correct! I fully agree with Doniger. that on a very important level. this episode raises the question oftheodicy.l87 Uttanka's objection to Kr$I)a's cosmic "sacrifice" is that it involved unnecessary destruction. Just as we have seen in the rest of the Parvan, the issue is violence, but more than any other episode in the Parvan, this episode shifts the problem of violence from sacrifice proper and from the relatively technical question of whether it is contrary to dhanna because it involves the slaughter of animals. to the much broader question of the validity of the very socia-cosmic order that this sacrifice embodies. The equation of sacrifice and battle, and the use of this bi-focal image as the model of the sociocosmic order, is brought to the fore, made explicit. and problematized. This episode~ therefore, plays a very important role in anchoring the apparent endless digression into sacrifical discourse which constitutes most of the Aivamedhika Parvan in the larger problematic of the Mahabharata. It saves it from disintegrating into a mere collection of "brahminic lore" accessible and meaningful only to brahmin specialists. Doniger observes that

Kr~Qa's

self-praise leaves our modem sense of justice

unsatisfied -- she refers to the doctrine, expounded here by

Kr~IJa,

that Vi~Qu became

incarnate to save the earth, as a "pretext" for the glorification Kr~Qa.188 But as part of an ambivalent masquerade, i(n;Q.a's self-praise cannot be taken at face value. The whole episode is a riddle. it presents a terribel paradox, namely why does the Supreme Person present his devotees with amrta in the form of a vile untouchable's urine?

187Doniger 1976, 271. 188Doniger 1976, 271.

365

The question of the justification of ~lJa remains unresolved in the episode. Uttailka's original charge is that ~lJa was able to avert the carnage of Kuru~etra and chose not to.

Kr~lJa's

transcenden~

absolute being to whome the concept of guilt is inapplicable. But if so. then

Kr~Qa

reply is that this charge is meaningless, because Kr~lJa is a

could have let Uttaitka go ahead and curse him when Uttaitka first declared his

intention to do so. UttaIika would be censuring the faultless, and damaging only his own store of kanna.

Kr~lJa

of course claims that he wants to prevent Uttailka from cursing him

because of his loving concern for Uttatika. But if Kr~lJa was so graciously inclined towards Uttailka, why did he later go on to trick him into censuring him? It seems that Kr~lJa

had to trick Uttailka into censuring him/or something else, of which he was really

not guilty. This suggests that Uttaitka's original charge did have something to it. In other words, if Kr~lJa was blameless, why should he contrive to shift his guilt to someone else to begin with'? The second encounter in the desert cannot be reconciled with the theological positions expressed by Kr~lJa's

Kr~IJa

in his own self-praise. From the point of view of the Adhyatma~

strange masquerade is inexplicable. This is why Kannarkar senses incoherence, or

worse, lack of integrity. Doniger senses that this is a theological juggling of blame~ an attempt to eat the cake and have it. But if we read this episode as an agonistic verbal contest, there is no question of consistency. Papman is there, built into the structure of reality. No one can get rid of it~ it can only be shifted from one agent to another, just as Indra, after he killed

Vrtr~

got rid of his papman by shifting it to others. The name of the

game is trickery and ambivalence. One can wonder about what Uttanka would see subsequently when rain clouds were gathering in the desert sky. Did he see Indra, the rain god, disguised as an impure hunter and surrounded by a pack of dogs? Did he remember the glorious viivariipa form of ~lJa

which had been graciously revealed to him'? Did he, like a lovelorn cQwherdess,

366

long for ~IJ.a the absent lover, the gracious ~TJ.a who lifted mount Govardhana and

defeated the tyrannical Indra?

m.6.3. Uttaitka's Search For the Earrings (M.Bh. BOR! XIV.55-57) The next part of the Aivamedhika Parvan Uttanka episode goes back to Uttanka's days as a student of the Veda UttaIika was a student of the Veda. His devotion to his preceptor,

Gautam~

was

outstanding. Gautama, too, liked UttaJika so much that he did not want to release him from his student's duties. Uttailka served as a student at his teacher's house for so long that he grew old and his hair turned white, but he did not even notice that time had passed. When Uttaitka finally realized that his youth had gone by unnoticed, he cried bitterly_ His guru's beautiful daughter saw his sorrow and caught his burning tears in the cup of her

hands. Gautama too soon realized the reason for his student's sorrow, and readily dismissed him from his student duties. Uttaitka, however, insisted that he must present his

guru with a departing gift before leaving. Gautama refused a gift, saying that he was pleased enough with UttaiIka's service, and insisted instead that Uttaitka should marry his daughter, and even promised to restore his youth miraculously. Uttailka accepted this offer, regained his youth and took the guru's daughter for a wife. Still he was unwilling to skip the customary departing gift. Since Gautama refused to specify a gift, he asked his wife Ahaly~ and she sent him to fetch the earrings of Madayand, the wife of the king Saudiisa. She did not know that Saudasa was a cannibal, however. Uttanka went to the abode of the cannibal Saudasa, and came there just in time for Saudasa's daily meal. The terrible-looking king was ready to devour him, but Uttailka explained that he was on a mission in his guru's service and offered to return and be devoured after he had completed his mission. Saudasa agreed, and sent Uttailka to the queen to ask her for the earrings. Uttailka hesitated, however, to approach the queen,

367

apparently because there would be some suggestion of immodesty in doing that. Saudasa explained that he himself could not approach his wife because of his monstrous condition. Uttaitka went to the queen and at her request produced a sign from the king. He was granted the magic earrings, but was warned by the queen that if they touched the ground~ they would be stolen by the serpents. The king dismissed Saudasa, advising him not to return to

him~

because if he did, it would be his death.

On the way back Uttaitka felt hungry. As he was trying to pick some fruit to

eat~

he

by mistake dropped the earrings to the ground~ and a snake quickly stole them, disappearing into an anthill. For thirty-five days, Uttailka tried furiously to penetrate the anthill with his stick, but was not successful. Finally In~ in the form of a

brahmin~

appeared to him and offered help. With the combined forces of Uttanka's stick and Indra's

vajra the anthill did open up, and Uttailka was able to penetrate the world of the snakes. The world of snakes was immense. It was full of magnificent buildings~ made of gold and studded with precious stones. It had lakes and rivers, and the trees had beautiful birds perched on them. Uttaitka lost heart seeing the vastness of the snakes' realm. Just then, a black steed with a white tail appeared before him and advised him to (no less than) blow air into the steed's anus. The steed was quite cordial, however. He reassured Uttailk~ right away, that by blowing the air he would regain the lost earrings, and also~ that he had done the same thing before many times when he lived in his guru's house. When Uttanka expressed his surprise at this last assertion of the horse, the horse identified himself as Agni, the god of fire. Uttailka therefore did the horse's bidding blew 7

into its anus, and fire flamed out of the horse's orifices. The snakes~ who are notoriously frightened of fire, worshipped Uttaitka and returned the earrings immediately. Uttailka took the earrings and returned to his guru's house. 189

189M.Bh.BORI XIV.55-57.

368

Now what does UttaIika's search for the earrings have to do with the verbal contests. which have occupied us during most of our explorations of the ifivamedhika Parvan? What is the logic of insertion by which this story was introduced into the Asvamedhika Parvan. Well, there is not much direct connection. Uttaitka's quest for the earrings is certainly not one more variation on the verbal contest theme. But there is some connecting logic. Utta1lka the BhargavC4 the devoted brahmaciirin who faced great dangers in the wilderness in order to fetch the right graduation gift for his guru, was just the right person to encounter Kr~IJa in the desert and to hold a praise-blame competition with

Kr~I}a.

The first and simplest reason is his association with wild uncivilized places, the sort of places where you might encounter cannibals like king Saudasa. The more complex reason is the connection between initiation (dllqii) imagery and the more archaic practices of the vratya cult. Uttaitka's journey to the underworld has initiatory overtones. It is reminiscent of the journey to the nether world of his great ancestor, Bhrgu. Bhrgu was sent by his father. VaruQa, to Yarna's world of Death as a kind of initiation into sacrifice. He had a vision of the terrible punishments inflicted upon sinners in the after-life, and was taught that the Agnihotra sacrifice was the only means to avoid these punishments.l 90 Similarly, the Kathopani$ad tells about Naciketas's journey to Yarna's world. He too was sent to Death by his father as a form of initiation. Uttailka is also an initiate figure. His initiator is his guru (or perhaps his guru's wife?) rather than his father. Uttanka goes to the Naga world instead of to Varna's

world~

but

then, these two nether worlds are intimately connected. Uttailka's affinity with snakes is quite clear in the Adi Parvan where Uttanka's story is woven into the "snake lore" section. In the Aivamedhika Parvan too, UttaiJ.ka's is a snake of sorts. His student days story y

190Jaiminlya Brahaml),a 2.440-442.

369

introduces him as one who grew old in his guru's service and was miraculously rejuvenated. The power of rejuvenation and regeneration is often associated with snakes, which by shedding their skins are said to be "rebom."191 The connection is clear. To conquer death is to escape the relentless force of kannan., and Uttailka is a seeker of immortality., of the power of regeneration. Uttarika has certainly failed to achieve this goal in his desert encounter with ~IJ.a He failed, precisely because he has failed to recognize, or perhaps refused to accept., the fact that immortality can only be obtained by incurring severe pollution. As a result, he both incurred the papman and remained mortal. Uttailka, the exemplary student't was offered

soma in the form of a dog-cooker's urine. Is it only a striking coincidence that during their raiding expeditions, the vriityas were considered to be extremely polluted - in fact, they were ritually transformed into dogs - and that vratacarya was actually the second stage of brahmacarya?

Falk has shown that during the second part of studenthood or initiation the young students were sent to live in the wilderness as bandits, basically, to feed themselves and to provide their senders with loot. Falk has also pointed out that much of the symbolism of vratacarya has been carried over into the classical sacrificial dllqa and into the practices of

renunciates. I suggest that in his quest after the earrings., Uttailka encounters some of the dark, obscure cultural reminiscences of these early practices. First he encounters king Saudasa., a !qatriya who was transformed into a cannibal. Second, his encounter with the queen indirectly suggests sexual impropriety. Third., he descends into the underground

191There is another niiga figure in the Aivamedhika Parvan, Arjuna's snake-wife UliipI. Uliipl also acted as a regenerator, since she caused her husband Arjuna to die and then resurrected him with the help of the jewel which can revive the dead, the jewel "which the snakes have in their power." She did this in order to save Arjuna from the otherwise inevitable punishment for his sin of killing Bb'l~ma deceitfully. Above section III.S.2.

370

world, where one comes into close contact with death. Fourth, he blows into the horse's anus. This is an upside-down or reversed image of the pure brahmin practice of blowing on the sacrificial flIe.

If this reading is correct, then Uttanka's desert-encounter with

~Q.a

would fit in

quite well with Uttailka's other adventures. It seems that the humbling lesson that Uttaitka had to learn was: tryou have to be willing to drink the urine of a dog-cooker before you can aspire to immonaiity. It is an ordeal that you must pass to be initiated." In his encounter with the underground horse Uttarika had to pass a similar ordeal but there he was given a clue as to what to do from the horse's mouth, so to speak, and therefore he passed that test successfully. In his desert encounter with

~Qa

he had no clue, and failed the test.

III. 7. Renewal and Redefinition of a Tradition

I have argued that agonistic-sacrificial imagery, which dates back to the early- and middle-Vedic periods, figures prominently in the Mahabharata as a whole. The very theme of an earthly sibling-feud, and the idea that this is an enactment of the battle between the Devas and the Asuras, firmly grounds the epic in an agonistic world view. Certain key places and names, such Kuru and Paiicrua, Kuruk~etra, the Naimi~a forest and Parllq;it are associated in Vedic literature with contestatory sacrificial themes. The inherent uncertainty of the initial status relationship between the two sides in the feud is perhaps an even more important hallmark of the agonistic world view, in which "what goes up, must (someday) come down," in which the warrior of today is the brahmin of tomorrow, and roday's underdog, tomorrow's winner. More specifically, the events recounted in the Sabha Parvan, especially the debate with Sisuprua and his subsequent slaying during the Rajasiiya sacrifice, and the gambling

371

match of the same Parvan. should be understood as evocations of such imagery. The exile of the protagonists recounted in the Virata

Parvan~

their forced disguise. contact with

pollution and deviant behavior~ their involvement in a cattle-raid - all these hark back to

vratya practices. Chapter Three of this study has focused on the Aivamedhika Parvan of the

Mahabhiirata. We have seen that the Aivamedhika Parvan too is highly alive to the sacrificial-agonistic world view. It picks up an apparently secondary strand in this tradition~

the ritual verbal contes~ and develops it.

The old ritual verbal contests had a number of variations. Taking turns in posing increasingly difficult theological-ritualistic questions (debate) shades off into a more playful posing of deliberately paradoxical statements (riddles and enigmas). Of special interest is the formal contest between a "praiser" who praises the sacrifice (or a divinity which represents it. such as Indra or Agni) and a "reviler" who reviles the sacrifice (or the divinity). The ritual texts abound in stories about an outsider who breaks into the ritual arena and interrupts the sacrifice with verbal abuse. I have argued that much of the apparently miscellaneous materials found in the Parvan are really variations on this motif. The evocation of the verbal contest theme allows the introduction of intertextuality in a very subtle and powerful way. One can deliberately juxtapose against each other culturally competing discourses. The ritual context exempts the authors from identifying finally with anyone voice. This technique enables the producers of the Parvan to articulate a complex cultural debate around the question of the dharma of sacrifice. and especially around the role of violence in this dhanna, while avoiding the necessity of arriving at a final position as in a philosophical debate. I say debate, and not polemics. because the argument is internal. The Aivamedhika

Parvan is a highly "brahminic" book. Its contestatory logic and its many references to obscure Vedic lore would probably be inaccessible even to an educated person whose

372

background was not specifically Vedic and ritualistic. This is not to say that the brahmin producers of the Parvan historically "knew" about the Vedic period the way a contemporary scholar like Falk reconstructs it. But they clearly were steeped in Vedic literature and their imagination as well as their intellect worked through manipulating its imagery. Their thinking was not "historical" in the narrow sense, but they had their own. quite complex, cultural constructs regarding the past and how the present stands in relation to it. There was definitely an association of contestatory ritual practices with a notion of a hoary antiquity which functions in their construction of the world as Absolute Past even with regard to the time in which the events of the epic occur. The producers of the Aivamedhika Parvan would probably be shocked if told that there was a time when to become initiated into I1brahminhood" one first had to engage in cannibalism. They were, however, aware of contemporary ascetics, like the Pasupatas, who claimed, or at least demanded, to be part of the Vedic tradition. and whose discipline nevertheless required deliberate contact with death, violence and impurity. They were also highly aware of the outright denial of the Veda's scriptural authority and of the sacrificial world view which claimed to derive its authority from the Veda by their contemporary Nastikas, be they Buddhists or Jainas. The various discourses found in our Parvan are all struggling with self definition over and against these various internal and external "others," who are not directly addressed but are present nevertheless. The adoption of the specific fonn of ritual verbal contest in order to prod the problematic of the Parvan creates a kind of ambivalence. The Nastika is the "other," and at the same time he is a part of the system. Often one wonders whether the voice of the ideological "other" is truly heard in the Parvan. The episode with which I introduced the Parvan, The Yati-Adhvaryu Sa'lzvada, dramatizes this ambivalence quite well. Did the

adhvaryu really learn anything from the yati, or is what might appear to some modem

373

readers as "dialogue" just a strategic stance taken in order to be able to continue the sacrifice? Paul Hacker has coined the tenn "inclusivism u to describe the attitude of some modem Hindus - most prominently, Shri Ramakrishna - to other religions. Inclusivism is the claim that the other's point of view is really nothing but one's own, though awkwardly articulated. Hacker has arguecL quite rightly, that inclusivism should not be confused with tolerance. 192 Do we have in the Aivamedhika Parvan an early instance of inclusivism? My project is not so much to judge as to understand and fully describe. My explorations have provided me with ample proof, however, that we have here a much more complicated cultural phenomenon. Ultimately, it is impossible to distinguish sharply between truly reflexive self-questioning and more or less defensive and disguised polemics. The opponent in the debate is both the external Nastika, the outsider within the tradition, and the insider who, like Uttailka, dares to ask the hard questions. We have seen that this attempt at self-definition has inevitably lead to a series of projections and splittings on the ritual level, on the narrative level and between these levels. A very common paradigm in Mahabhiirata studies involves the notion that the epic was first composed in "bardic" circles, that is, by poets who sang songs of praise about the heroic exploits of warlords and warrior tribes. According to this paradigm, the priestly and theological aspects of the Mahabharata are external to the text, because they reflect a secondary reworking of the materials when the text passed into the hands of brahmins. I am not the first scholar to question this paradigm, but I think my work throws some new light on the issue. Once we see that the Mahabharata is profoundly grounded in a world view in which ritual and battle are twin aspects of the same cosmic dynamics, the "brahminic overlay" theory cannot be sustained. This is not to say that at the time when the

192Hacker 1957, 1983. Also Halbfass 1988,403-418.

374

Mahabharata took its mature shape priests and warriors were commonly the same people. 193 It is wrong to think that people's imaginative and intellectual world is shaped only by their material circumstances. Clearly, the complex of heroic narrative and ritual agonistic patterns was highly laden with meaning for the brahmins of this later period, because their world was saturated with the imagery of Vedic literature. Even when they wished to argue for non-violence they were able to do it in agonistic sacrificial terms. An amazing feat! One more theme emerges in the Afvamedhika Parvan besides that of contestation. This is the idea of a renewal of a nearly broken tradition. The narrati ve expression of this idea is the rebirth of the still-born Pa.rilq;it, the only remnant of the Bharata cIan and father of the sacrificer-king Janamejay~ to whom the whole epic is addressed. I have argued that this event too is so situated in the course of the narrative that it must be understood as evoking sacrificial and initiatory meanings. In Vedic ritual there is a double-faced stage of death and cosmic dispersion, in which the classical yajamiina symbolicall y returns to the womb. This is a transformation of the symbolic death of the

vratya of the early and middle Vedic periods. The vratya would become part of the world of the dead and as a "dead dog" go forth on his violent and polluting raiding expeditions. If successful, he would gain heaven. Similarly, in the Aivamedhika Parvan, Pank~it's stillborn condition is synchronic with the ex.pedition to the Himalaya., and his revival marks the beginning of the horse sacrifice itself, which is presented as a new, non-violent kind of sacrifice, which hopefully will usher in a new hannonic political order and a renewed

dhanna. How do the two themes of rebirth and contest relate to each other in the Parvan? On this point I can only be a little speculative. My sense is that the Parvan as a whole (though

193Though we do know that there have been brahman warriors in historical times. For example, the Nambudiri Brahmans of Kerala. See Raghava 1983.

375

not necessarily the Mahabharata as a whole) is an attempt at self definition by some brahminic circles against what they perceive as serious challenges from without and from within to the integrity and perhaps to the very physical survival of their traditions and way of life. In their own understanding, what they are doing is reviving and establishing a continuity, embodied by the person of ParI~it and his lineage~ but also by the narrative memory of the events., both crisis and renewal, which this continuity makes possible. I have ventured two tentative guesses as to the specific historical context of this brahminic recuperation)94 At any

rate~

I think the Parvan reflects profound anxiety, which probably

has to do with a historical context in which brahmins were marginalized as just one group of religious specialists competing for the attention of kings among others. and perhaps not the most influential one. This insecurity may explain the reluctance to call the adversary by name.

194Above

section m.I.7.

376

Conclusion How different the world of the Kal7].a Parvan is from that of the Afvamedhika

Parvan! The differences between the manuscript traditions indicate that the Ka17J,a Parvan never went through a moment of central redaction .. and was probably put in writing in more than one place and time. The other is clearly derived from a single archetype. The

Ka17)a Parvan deals almost exclusively with the events on the two penultimate days of the battle, climaxing in the slaying of KarI).a by AIjuna. The only significant breaks from the battle descriptions are a number of verbal exchanges between the warriors. The

Aivamedhika Parvan is about Yudhi~thira's horse sacrifice, but it consists mostly of digressions in the form of legends and doctrinal discourses clustered around the narration of the sacrifice. The one is about battle, the other is about rirualized battle and about the implications of the connection between battle and ritual. What do they have in common? Perhaps more than content, they have in common certain patterns by which meaning proliferates, by which the text can be expanded on and commented on from within itself. The discourse, whether doctrinal or narrative, can digress or branch out, in principle, at any point. And the digressions always tend to throw some new light on the pregiven text into which they are introduced, to open up some possible new reading. At its more intense moments, this turns into a reflexive questioning of meaning, with the result that ambiguities are enhanced and almost systematically developed. The dialogic question and answer frame which is sustained throughout the

Mahabharata is certainly an enabling condition for this pattern, but it is neither necessary

377

nor sufficient. Beyond this most general frame, there are different patterns of expansion from within. We have looked at the Kan:za Parvan, where the convention that warriors engage in verbal duels during battle is on two occasions boldly elaborated to articulate the infinite inscrutibility (sulqmatii) of dharma. In the Aivamedhika Parvan .. definitely the more theoretical and speculative of the two Parvans, the paradoxes of a dharma which claims to be non-violent yet is based on sacrifice. are explored. It is this tendency to open up more, and even contradictory, ways of looking at the same received text. always with regard to how this text articulates the meaning of dharma, which unites the two patterns.

As a final reflection I would raise a broader question. How does the Mahabharata compare with the kind of texts that Umberto Eco discusses in tiThe poetics of the Open Work"?l Eco describes musical compositions in which the composer leaves the work deliberately unfinished so that the performer can complete it in his own way. Does the

Mahabharata invite the audience to interpret it in its own way? Eco himself raises the question regarding medieval texts, only to conclude that the comparison does not hold "it is a different vision of the world which lies under these different aesthetic experiences. "2 David Stem raises the issue with regard to Jewish Midrashic literature. and ends with similar reservations. 3 In an unpublished essay, Ronald Inden writes: "It was my increasing awareness that the students of Indian texts had attributed some of the same characteristics to Indian texts, which according to the post-structuralists, their colleagues had traditionally excluded from their depiction of classic European texts. The foremost of these was the lack of authorship. Indian texts do not have the unity of time, tEco 1979. 2Eco 1979, 52. 3Stern 1988.

spa~~

and

378

author. Closely related were other characteristics. Most of India's sacred texts have diverse contents (decenteredness). They have no central theme or narrative thread (heterogeneity) and the texts seem to be caught up in rather than reflective of the world (immanence). Had Indologists been ahead of their time? Hardly. What I was seeing was in fact the underside of the European self-construction of its own texts and tradition as the homogeneous, centered and transcendent products of unitary authors. That work~ the production of a unique canon of texts that would lead to or legitimate the rise of the West to world dominance could only be carried out successfully if the same scholarship in its most 'exotic' departments could show that the texts of the Other either lacked the qualities of their European counterparts~ as in the case of sacred and epic texts, or in the case of philosophical and literary texts, possessed them only in an inchoate ("underdeveloped") fonn. In other words, the problems that the post-structuralists pointed to in the study of western texts were either inverted in the study of South Asian texts or low grade versions of them! "4 I agree. It is very problematic to compare the post modem with the premodern. The danger is that one should perceive the difference only in tenus of what is lacking - lack of authorship, lack of closure and so forth. This really will amount to "seeing the underside of the European self-construction of its own texts." But when one begins to explore the

specific ways in which a complex textual tradition such as the Mahiibhiirata diverge from the nineteenth century European nonn~ one discovers a rich play of meanings which is very specific, very grounded in its historical

context~

and for that reason, very sophisticated

and complex. Far from inviting just any reading, the Mahabhiirata has its own patterns of self interpretation through expansion. It is the specific quality which makes the

Mahiibharata a great text.

4Inden 199 I, 2.

379

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