The Philosophy of the Bhagavadgita

by Swami Krishnananda

Such is the fate of a spiritual seeker, also. We are studying the Bhagavadgita as a spiritual gospel, a great torch-light before us in treading the path. It is intended principally for everyone as a seeker of God, for the salvation of spirit. It is not merely history that we are studying or a legend that we are recounting. It is clothed in imagery and mythology and epic magnificence, but its essence, the core and the kernel is pure impersonal spirituality. “So, Arjuna,” says Sri Krishna, “You have a duty towards human society, you have a duty to yourself, you have a duty to the world, you have a duty to the antaratman, the deepest Self within you which pervades the Cosmos. Now, human society is based on mutual co-operation. We have, what is known as the ‘Varna’, which is wrongly translated as ‘caste’ in modern times; it is not caste but a classification of society, the better translation would be ‘class’ and not ‘caste’. The classes of society do not imply the category of inferior and superior. They imply, on the other hand, a necessity for co-operation on the part of every unit of this classification. There is a necessity to maintain oneself materially, economically. We know very well the importance of one’s economic existence. There is no need of a commentary on this. But what is economic life except production and consumption? So there is a necessity to work for the production of material and economic values for the sake of the consumption thereof, by which human beings sustain themselves materially, physically. We will have to work hard for this, it means that. Now, again, it does not mean that everyone will have to do the same work. The entire mankind would otherwise be concerned only with production of material goods as if there is nothing else of value in life. That is also not true; that would be a wrong interpretation of human history and society. There is an economic interpretation of human history nowadays which is a misplacement of values. We are not merely bodies, we are not merely food-consumers, we are not just money-holders; we are something more, as we know very well, each one of us. Apart from this necessity to live in an economic atmosphere so as to produce economic values, we have also the need for protection. The need for organisation and enactment of laws is the need we feel for a government of human society. At least the Contract Theory in political science accepts that the origin of government is in a mutual agreement and con tract of people for protection of themselves in a particular manner. We have organised a government; we wanted it and have created it in a particular way for our own welfare. The government exists for the people. This function requires another class of people, apart from these who are the producers of consumable goods. But, then, we cannot simply produce goods and keep them in a corner. There is a necessity to organise the transference of these economic values. In the beginning it was the barter system that prevailed in economic society; now we have currency, etc. Whatever it is, the principle behind exchange of money or goods implies the necessity for the movement of goods which requires a third class of society to operate it. And finally, and the most important thing which cannot be missed in our activity towards these obvious visible ends, the most important conditioning factor — the knowledge how to handle things — comes in. Whether it is the handling of administration, whether it is the handling of the atmosphere of production of material goods or the transference of goods, etc., we cannot have power without knowledge. One knows how dangerous it is to be vested with power and strength when one lacks in understanding, or knowledge.

So there are the four classes of people who have been specially endowed with this responsibility of conducting themselves in various levels of human society. And Arjuna belonged to one class; and every one of us belongs to some class or other. If we will not perform our duties expected of us in that particular atmosphere or class in which we are placed, we would be derelicts, renegades, selfish persons who exploit people for the benefit of ourselves, and that should not be an example that we can properly set before others — highly objectionable is this attitude. “So Arjuna, even from a sociological point of view, you are mistaken in your notion of “I shall not act.” “If everybody says, ‘I will not do,’ then what will happen? Is this the example you wish people to follow? Secondly, what has happened to your mind and intellect? How is it that you appear to be fumbling and falling of? Is this the way an integrated personality will speak? Are you healthy and sane in your personality? Will a wise person succumb to this catastrophic conclusion which you have arrived at just now, at this moment of crisis, here, in this battlefield of Kurukshetra? What a pity, and a tragedy! Does this become of a hero like you? You have lost your personality. And you take that as the basis for your argument which affects the human society also in which you are living. Society has sustained you, and you have a duty towards it.”

Now, we move further on. The world of Nature is that which highly conditions our experiences in life. Heat and cold, hunger and thirst are all processes which are engendered by the movements of the powers of Nature. We have to bear with fortitude the results that follow by our placement in an atmosphere of physical Nature. We should not say, “How horribly is it hot! How wretchedly is it cold! How stupidly is it raining,” etc. These are statements which convey no sense. Nature performs its duty regularly and perfectly, and our complaints arise because of our maladjustment with the way in which Nature works. Nature is an impersonal computer system. It does not go wrong. It appears to us that it is going wrong sometimes on account of our not understanding all that is behind its workings. The physical universe is also a reality which expects of us some duty. The pancha-maha-yajnas, as they are called in the system of living, in India particularly, are the obligations that we owe to the various sides of life; to human beings, to our ancestors, to the gods in heaven, to the sages of wisdom, and even to the beasts and animals. Much more than that, we seem to be connected with still greater realities. We owe a duty even to the planets and the Sun and the Moon. Traditional systems require us to offer prayer to the Sun everyday. The Gayatri mantra, which every religious person in India chants with reverence, is an offering of prayer to the mighty Sun whose existence is our life. If we study the cultural and religious history of India in all its facets, we will be wonderstruck that life is nothing but yajna, sacrifice, service, co-operation, and it is self-abandonment that is taught in the culture of this country. Perhaps this is to be the essence of every culture that is truly humane. We have duties; no rights in this world. This is something interesting. People fight for rights and do not think that they have duties, these days. “This I demand, and I owe nothing to you.” This is modern man’s argument. But true human culture tells that we have duties, but no rights. One will be wondering what this is all about. “I have no rights?” Dear friends! Rights will automatically follow without your asking for them. When you perform your duties, you need not demand your rights, they come spontaneously. “All these things shall be added unto you,” if you “first enter the Kingdom of God and His Righteousness.” Why do you cry for rights? Seek God and His righteousness, and then see if everything follows you or not. But we expect everything to follow us automatically without our doing anything for it. This is unbecoming. This is not going to lead us to success. So, Sri Krishna speaks: “You have a duty towards all things, and you cannot simply throw your bow and arrows and say, ‘I do nothing, I perish.’ You have no right to perish even, you must know that. You cannot hurt others, yes; but you cannot hurt yourself, too. Just as you cannot kill others, you cannot also kill yourself. Just as you cannot attack anything in hatred, you cannot attack yourself. There is sacredness and sanctity present everywhere, and reverence for life is the insignia of true culture.” Arjuna forgot every thing. He was completely down with fear, doubt and weakness of every type. At a particular stage in our spiritual pursuits, we find ourselves in this dark night of the soul, as the mystics speak of this condition. We cannot see anything in front of us. This plight does not befall us in the earlier stages of spiritual life, when everything seems bright as day-light. In the earlier days of spiritual practice, we think that everything is clear to our minds, and we can go ahead. But when we go half-way, we see darkness ahead of us. It is all problem, difficulty and diffidence and we begin to grope in darkness, in which condition Arjuna finds himself in the first chapter of the Bhagavadgita. Inasmuch as this darkness is a precedent to illumination, a darkness that has risen on account of our persistence in the practice of true spiritual life, this specific condition of being in darkness and doubt is also called a ‘yoga’. The first chapter is called “Arjuna-Vishada-Yoga”, the yoga of the dejection of the spirit of the seeker. This is also a part of ‘yoga’. And everyone has to pass through this stage. But we should have the strength within us to realise that it is a transitory stage and it is not going to be an all-in-all; it shall pass away. So, from the first stage of darkness and oblivion, Arjuna is lifted up to the enlightening message of the ‘Samkhya’, to which we shall refer now.