The Question of Śāstra Adhikāra and Jāti

1. Why should native knowledge traditions have to fight to survive, with the official education system prejudiced against them? Why are they not enabled through the system, which is naturally expected in any country? This is not a question of śāstra or technicality, but the way state policy can be influenced in that direction. There are several challenges both in doing it and in the way it is done. The question of śāstra adhikāra cannot be completely evaded even in this context.

2. How is the adhikāra to śāstra determined, and how should learning be brought back into the mainstream in the country? This needs to be answered because good learning cannot be instituted at scale with policies that lack probity and practicability.

3. How do we understand and place the restrictions and exclusions in view of the loss of learning in perspective? How do they cause problems in enabling learning, and how do we understand the wisdom of such regulations?

4. Is the problem primarily social or systemic?

The above questions are a rephrasing of several questions/opinions/judgments in the minds of many, done not to misrepresent, but to move from the prevalent conception towards answers that are less conditioned by the underinformed and noisy discourse.

To be able to do that, we need to understand a few phenomena that cause the conditioning in the first place. It is a slight detour, but it will help us address the main question better.

What Does Adhikāra Mean

The term adhikāra has assumed several meanings, partially because it started to mean different things in deśa bhāṣās. There is also divergence in the meanings—power, privilege, right in different contexts and languages.

In Hindi, it is seen more as a right—maulik adhikār, chunāv ka adhikār, etc. The Constitution uses the term in the same sense. In common usage, too, entitlement, right, and occasionally responsibility are the meanings applied to this word.

In śāstra, however, adhikāra is power, responsibility, and right; not just one of these. When one says you have adhikāra of śāstra, it means one is meant to learn and practice it. It is a responsibility, just as much as a right and power to exercise the right. One who does not do so is not merely “not exercising the right”; he is being irresponsible and is unworthy of respect and emulation. If this is not understood, then śāstra adhikāra will not be understood.

For instance, over time, when the śrauta mārga became impractical for the traivarṇikas for various reasons, the veda-adhikāra has been limited to the brāhmaṇa. This, however, did not mean that no kṣatriya was learning. It meant the obligation did not exist anymore. And the brāhmaṇa who did not learn, continued to be seen as unworthy of being respected as a good brāhmaṇa. While a kṣatriya did not have to learn to be respected as a good kṣatriya, he needed to fulfill the rest of the kṣatra dharma well. In fact, given the distance between the contemporary lifestyle’s demands and the code required for śrauta life, brāhmaṇas themselves have created several internal classes, one meant for vaidika and the other for a more outward lifestyle (scholarly but not vaidika). But among them, it was clear that relinquishing adhikāra was about relinquishing the responsibility, not some right. Naturally, over time, as the learning function reduced, the avenues for learning nearly closed down for kṣatra-vaiśya. That some avenues opened up in the last century is a different matter, but this tells us how to understand adhikāra.

The inability to fulfill a certain order of responsibility is forfeiture of adhikāra/responsibility, often along with the right. This has very little to do with inclusion/exclusion, which is how one would wrongly see it through an alien sociology and prism of ‘rights’.

Goal: Elevation or Exclusion?

One main question we can address to understand śāstra adhikāra much better is what exactly is the goal of knowledge generation and dissemination, as stated and practiced by the seers? Is it the elevation of the individual and collective through knowledge, or creating a hegemony of some groups by excluding others from such knowledge?

The śāstra always has a consistent answer to this. Elevation of each being has to happen from its current stage. That is how adhikāra is determined for an individual. There are several factors, such as ruci, svabhāva, and svadharma, that become part of this determination algorithm. What our knowledge traditions never had is a flat space of applicability. Which means, the ability to address the fulfillment needs of each being is a stated and achieved goal. Which also means the methods vary based on ruci and adhikāra for beings. There is also tremendous diversity in those—per sampradāya, per deśa, per kula. There is thus practically never a challenge of a lack of means.

What would be a challenge, as has been witnessed over time, is that certain methods and traditions evolve at a certain point in time, keeping in view the complexity and breadth of society. And these become insufficient over a period of time. New traditions and methods evolve to address the newer order of complexity, evolutionary needs, and challenges of the times.

The evolution of smārta, āgamika, paurāṇika, and regional language itihāsa-purāṇa-kāvya development has happened thus. When the śrauta mārga fell insufficient in catering to larger populations (with varied vocations and lifestyles), its adhikāra was limited to fewer groups, while other groups adopted the upāsanā mārga or tantra. Certain groups found the paurāṇika methods far more practical and stuck to those. These were not top-down decisions forced on groups or rights given/taken away.

Similarly, when śrauta learning was too rigorous for wider adoption, more syncretic and less rigorous methods of imparting knowledge came up. When Saṃskṛta itself became impractical as a language for common usage, the texts were written in various deśa bhāṣās. The ṛṣi-kavi kāvyas were not merely translated but authored in those languages, ensuring the spirit of the original is reflected in the kāvyas. Whether it is Rāmacarita Mānasa, Potana Bhāgavata, or countless other itihāsa-purāṇa renderings, the idea is to create adhikāra, not remove it, while ensuring accessibility that was lost, not denied.

This meant that the individuals and groups with adhikāra for each type of knowledge—Veda, āgama, purāṇa, darśanas, etc., had to ensure the knowledge was protected, developed, and evolved to suit the times. This distribution worked best because it was the most practical distribution that, on the one hand, ensured meaningful and practical efforts from every group, and on the other hand, meant they could also shape their lives and manage their social functions, family lives, etc.

This needs to be understood as the widening of reach through multiplication of means, and not restriction of means through exclusion. Exclusion is one of the biggest misconceptions that has been drilled into the Hindu minds, which has not only not helped “inclusion” (because the target itself is meaningless) but also deepened misinformation and dissatisfaction in society.

What happened in the last century, however, was an inversion of the prism: to see this whole dynamic through the lens of rights, exclusion, and discrimination. With wrong problems formulated, wrong solutions were attempted, and knowledge has heavily corroded instead of spreading. The average brāhmaṇa and average śūdra are much less educated today in śāstra than an average brāhmaṇa and average śūdra in the early 20th century. This is evidence of misdiagnosis resulting in the wrong solution (rather than the right diagnosis).

Jāti Jaundice

One major effect of the outsider view of Bhāratīya society and consequent conditioning that happened to the Bhāratīya mind, the way it looks at its own society, can be summarized as the “jāti jaundice”. Not that jāti is not significant, but to see everything through a jāti lens is what makes it jāti jaundice instead of simply being jāti aware.

Bhāratīya society is a complex matrix of several institutions, with deśa, kula, and sampradāya having their relevance and each acting as a vehicle for fulfillment of certain aspects of life. The notion of nation-state basically obliterated deśa consciousness while sampradāya got subsumed into what is called religion. So society has been reduced to be seen as a hierarchy of jātis/kulas, a hierarchy supposedly created by varṇa.

What this led to is not only the non-fulfillment of human needs in several ways, but also the overemphasis on one aspect, which started to determine all the perspectives, policies, and judgments.

We can see how answers to many major questions/problems were given by simply resorting to “caste” and “social evil”, without real investigation:

(a) Indian knowledge is not in mainstream learning because the brāhmaṇa has monopolized Veda-learning and excluded others (and not because the colonial mainstream education invalidated native knowledge learning systems and industry).

(b) Access to resources, such as water burial and temples in the village, has been unfair because of brahminical social structure (and not because a well-established town planning and resource management system was displaced by a colonial urban oppressive system, which not only actively underfunded public administration but also disrupted the working systems).

(c) Many practices, such as vegetarianism and paśu bali, are judged through brahminical ideals, whereas the majority of society does not have the same view (and not because vegetarianism has a greater deśa-sampradāya component, or because urbanizing meant natural affinity to certain public and personal lifestyles, and the natural decline or dissociation from practices that are more forest/burial/rural-friendly).

While this is a much bigger topic, it is crucial to understand in the context of śāstra adhikāra. The misconception of jāti being a primary basis for determining śāstra adhikāra comes from the jāti jaundice (or seeing society primarily as made of jātis instead of a complex matrix of institutions). Whereas, in reality, sampradāya (tradition), kāla (temporal factors), deśa (place/region) play a much bigger role in that determination.

Here are a few examples of how jāti jaundice manifests:

The debate over the jāti of Vālmīki Maharṣi: there are multiple versions about this. There are paurāṇika references to him being a brāhmaṇa too, and we know the popular stories about him being a hunter before he became a ṛṣi. It should not have mattered, but for the shrill social activism around this and the convoluted arguments around social mobility. The entire society holds seers in reverence without group identity politics. There are several examples, like Mataṅga, to show that ṛṣitva can be attained without brāhmaṇya. It does not need reverse engineering to demonstrate mobility or how the rise of any individual is not slowed down by social order. It needs to be kept in mind that ṛṣitva is not bound by the four-fold social order.

Similarly, the debate over the jāti of sūta muni: while there is no direct mention of his parentage, and he is revered as a ṛṣi, his jāti needlessly assumed significance in contemporary discourse.

Then there are several cases where the person’s knowledge and character determine his qualification/respect, but jāti has been wrongly inserted:

1. Karṇa, who was brought up by a sūta and enjoyed kingship and prosperity, was made a tragic hero not because he saw any social discrimination, but because he displayed a low character and attempted something outside his league, and invited insults while repeatedly faltering in his actions.

2. Ekalavya, who did not qualify for dhanurveda (not archery), was made a tragic hero despite standing on the wrong side of dharma and getting killed by Kṛṣṇa.

Several practices/phenomena can be found specific to a sampradāya, or a deśa. The practices of a jāti in one region may not be the same as the same jāti in a different deśa. For instance, the culture level, the level of maintenance, and awareness of sampradāyas of a Chowdary in Rajasthan, Bengal, and Andhra Pradesh vary a lot. There are many reasons for this—the level of onslaught on society, the extroverted/introverted nature of the group given the historic factors, social standing of the group, and so on. This means the level of śāstra engagement of the group also varies across deśas. This, in turn, determines the śāstra adhikāra. Thus, it is organically determined, and not normatively or prejudicially determined. 

In terms of śāstra adhikāra, this is an important factor to understand. The regions that suffered invasions saw a loss in the depth of knowledge levels. Here, what suffered was not adhikāra but the practicability of learning, much more than in regions that enjoyed relative autonomy and Hindu rule. Where the general Veda-āgama learning and practice was higher, the adhikāra of other groups was attempted to be elevated closer to it. Where the general Veda-āgama learning was bleak, more groups had a much lesser order of initiation and practice, though they lived a devoted life and followed outward practices like cow worship.

This is not an adhikāra problem, but a steeper challenge to overcome for those trying to spread knowledge and elevate practice levels. The solutions they devise involve methods that are much closer to a non-practicing believer than an orthodox practitioner. This phenomenon has been very wrongly described as a social discrimination, without asking an introspective question of whether the goal is elevation or exclusion. This misdiagnosis contributed negatively and hampered the efforts in the right direction. The results have been visible in the past several decades in northern India. The misreadings and misgivings about Swami Karpatri’s views on śāstra adhikāra of śūdras are a case in point.

Prescriptive Adhikāra of Guru

Guru prescribes in a way he sees fit and holds the right to that by virtue of being a guru; he can alter the deśa kāla rules. As long as he does not violate a Sanātana principle, he holds that adhikāra both in terms of power and responsibility to do so for his times. If the basic trust factor is eroded, and the question of credibility is placed instead of the question of adhikāra in the right spirit, we are unlikely to arrive at the right answers.

How to Ascertain?

A simple litmus test that helps us understand the right way to look at a situation is using the term adhikāra in the right spirit to see if a particular description stands. For instance, if the question is of a certain individual or group’s “adhikāra” to, say dhanurveda, the simple question to ask is whether the individual or group is invested in terms of efforts, lifestyle, mindset to not only use but also to protect dhanurveda (these are the two sides of adhikāra), live the life of an ideal dhanurvedi, ensure the vidyā is not compromised and not given to undeserving, ensure it is enriched, protected, and passed on. If very few motivated individuals of a group can do so, then the group does not have adhikāra, while individuals may or may not be given the adhikāra based on the various qualifying factors.

Way Forward

To be able to realize the goals of śāstra, i.e., loka kalyāṇa, the widest spread of śāstra can happen not by creating distrust in the thankless protectors of the knowledge, but by ensuring the right understanding is developed and all the sheaths of society fulfill their adhikāra. It is the fulfillment of adhikāra of one order of learning that gives a person adhikāra of a more rigorous learning. While this seems like common sense, unfortunately, the perspective is missing in many and needs to be developed.