Ahangrahopasana and Aropa, Part I

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In answers to questions from Anuradha, Advaitaji makes the comment about Sahajiyaism:

What is it? It is an identification with Radha-Krishna by sādhakas who express it in tantrik sexual practise... It is dangerous because one identifies oneself with the divine lover and beloved. This is condemned by Rupa Gosvami as ahaṁgrahopāsanā. It is diametrically opposed to a service attitude. It can be quite subtle, that is why I presumed that my Guru and three other mahātmās urged me not to practise gopī-bhāva in a state of great sexual agitation or engagement - obviously one will then identify oneself with Radha Krishna more or less. [My bold]

I thank Advaita for making this clear statement of his position on the question, which I am sure reflects that of orthodox Vaishnavas everywhere. In my opinion, Advaita is confusing ahaṁgrahopāsanā with āropa; I personally do not recommend identifying with the Divine Lover and Beloved in the sense that Advaita means it, nor with compromising the service attitude. There are no doubt some amongst the Sahajiyas who do indeed think in this way, but I would like to describe the way that I view this matter as I think it is crucial to my vision of what Vaishnavism means.

In the sampradāya, i.e., in the tradition, ahaṁgrahopāsanā is clearly not recommended. It is defined in the commentaries to Bhagavad-gita 9.15, which states:

jñāna-yajñena cāpy anye yajanto mām upāsate ekatvena pṛthaktvena bahudhā viśvato-mukham

Others [i.e., not those mahatmas engaged in svarūpa-siddha devotional activities as described in the preceding two verses] worship me by sacrificing with the sacrifice of knowledge. This sacrifice of knowledge is various, either in [knowledge of] oneness, difference, or universality.

This verse is interpreted in several different ways by different acharyas. Vishwanath follows Madhusudan Saraswati quite closely here, but no one from our sampradāya seems to take note of Ramanuja's interpretation, which is quite different. We are probably most familiar with the description Bhaktivedanta Swami gives:

...there are others who are still lower, and these are divided into three: (1) he who worships himself as one with the Supreme Lord, (2) he who concocts some form of the Supreme Lord and worships that, and (3) he who accepts the universal form, the viśva-rūpa of the Supreme Personality of Godhead, and worships that. Out of the above three, the lowest, those who worship themselves as the Supreme Lord, thinking themselves to be monists, are most predominant. Such people think themselves to be the Supreme Lord, and in this mentality they worship themselves. This is also a type of God worship, for they can understand that they are not the material body but are actually spiritual soul; at least, such a sense is prominent. Generally the impersonalists worship the Supreme Lord in this way.

Vishwanath writes:

sarve’pi svānurūpyeṇa mām upāsata ity āha—jñāna-yajñeneti. anye pūrvokta-sādhanānuṣṭhānāsamarthā jñāna-yajñena, “tvaṁ vā aham asmi bhagavo devate, ahaṁ vai tvam asi” (Jābāla-śruti) ity-ādi-śruty-uktam ahaṅgrahopāsanaṁ jñānaṁ, sa eva parameśvara-yajana-rūpatvād yajñaḥ, tena.

But everyone worships me in their own way, which is stated in this verse. Others, who are unable to perform the practices outlined in verses 13 and 14 worship me by the sacrifice of knowledge. Knowledge means ahaṁgrahopāsanā, as shown in the Jābāla Upanishad: "I am you, O Lord my Deity, and you are I." Since this is a way of sacrificing to the Supreme Lord, it is called a sacrifice or yajña. So, they worship me with this sacrifice of knowledge.

It certainly is a curious passage, especially since it is not making explicit reference to the word ekatvena ("in oneness"), which appears later on in the verse (and which Bhaktivedanta Swami seems to be interpreting as ahaṁgrahopāsanā). This (ekatvena) and the three other words that follow it are usually taken to be modifiers in apposition to jñāna-yajña, but since they are all nouns in their own right, they need not be taken that way. In that case, either all these nouns are separate ways of worshiping Krishna, different from jñāna-yajña, or they are all different expressions of the jñāna-yajña, which can be either of three kinds or of one kind (as Ramanuja takes the three words to create a single, harmonious meaning).

Anyway, despite this, ahaṁgrahopāsanā is sometimes found to play a part in standard pūjā-paddhatis and the phrase gopālo'ham in the Gopāla-tāpanī Upaniṣad (2.38ff) has left Vaishnavas scratching their heads and searching for reasonable explanations. Sri Jiva says that it means one should think that one is qualitatively the same as the Lord, but of course, distinct as servant to served.

sūrya-sattayā raśmi-sattāvat tat-sattayaiva mat-sattā iti niścitya gopālo’ham iti bhāvayet. mūla-tṛptyaiva hi pallava-tṛptir bhavatīti yat kiñcit svasmin kartavyaṁ, tat tasminn eva kuryād ity arthaḥ. jagad-vyāpāra-varjam [Vs. 4.4.17] iti nyāyenātyanta-sāmyasyābhāvāt.

Just as the only possibility of the sunrays's existence is due to the existence of the sun, so my existence is only possible through his existence. In this knowledge, one should think "I am Gopala." This means that just as by bringing nourishment to the root of a tree, its twigs are nourished, and therefore whatever one must do for oneself one should do for him. On the other hand, the Vedānta-sūtra says, "With the exception of universal creation," indicating that complete identity with Gopala is an impossibility.

Bhagiratha Jha similarly writes: "I, like all souls, am one with him (tad-ātmaka), I am never outside of him (na tato vyatiriktaḥ), since I cannot have any existence without him (tad-apṛthak-siddhatvāt), nor have any independent being (svatantra-sattva-śūnyatvāt), and because I am his portion (aṁśatvāc ca).

Mahaprabhu also had the problem of interpreting his sannyāsa mahā-vākya until he was advised that he should think that he was not "Krishna," but "Krishna's." So here we have several instances of statements that appear favorable to ahaṁgrahopāsanā, or identifying completely with the object of worship, but which have been interpreted by devotees in ways favorable to devotion.

The principle underlying idea here is that "one must become a deity to worship the Deity." Vāsudevaḥ sarvam iti. If we think ourselves to be separate from Krishna, then we cannot serve him. But it may be easier to understand this here if we think of Krishna not as the individual person Krishna, but as him and his entire world of Goloka, along with his associates, his cows, cowherds and cowherd girls. And this is as it should be, for a devotee does not take God without his energies. To claim exclusive possession of God is almost as bad as ahaṁgrahopāsanā itself. Krishna leaves the rāsa dance when people start thinking like that.

The following passage from the Krama-sandarbha to 3.5.23 confirms the above:

vaikuṇṭhādi-bahu-vaibhave’pi sati katham eka evāsīt ? tatrāha—vaikuṇṭhādi nānā-matyāpi sa evaika upalakṣita iti senā-sametatve’pi rājāsau prayātītivat.

Narayan exists eternally in Vaikuntha surrounded by great opulences, so how can it be said that he was alone? Indeed, whenever speaking of Narayan, it should be understood that all these things are being included, much in the way that when the king's cavalcade passes, we say that it is the king who is passing.

In view of this, Ramanuja's interpretation of the verse makes a great deal of sense. The jñāna-yajña spoken of here is not out of context with the previous verses (mahātmānas tu, etc.), but means that those very same devotees worship in the consciousness of God as one and different, omnipresent in a multiplicity of forms.

Elsewhere the word ahaṁgrahopāsanā appears in the commentaries to Bhakti-rasāmṛta-sindhu (1.2.294) where Vishwanath advises that it not be engaged in by a rāgānuga-bhakta, even in cases where the scriptures may give such instructions. Again, Vishwanath uses the term in BRS 1.2.306 to warn against thinking of oneself as a nitya-pārṣada like Nanda Maharaj. But this is something that we will discuss later. The idea of "identification with" (sādhāraṇīkaraṇa) is one that is used in the context of rasa, so we must understand the fine distinction between this necessary kind of identification and the sense in which Vishwanath is using it here.

Another verse that has relevance here is found in Ujjvala-nīlamaṇi:

vartitavyaṁ śam icchadbhir bhaktavan na tu kṛṣṇavat
ity evaṁ bhakti-śāstrāṇāṁ tātparyasya vinirṇayaḥ
rāmādivad vartitavyaṁ na kvacid rāvaṇādivat
ity eṣa mukti-dharmādi-parāṇāṁ naya īryate

Those who wish for true joy (śam) should identify as devotees and not as Krishna. This is the conclusion of the devotional scriptures. "One should identify with Rama and not with Ravana, this is the method followed by those who are devoted to deliverance and justice." (UN 3.24-25)

The second of these verses is probably a quote (or at least a partial quote) as roughly the same words are found both in the Kāvya-prakāśa (2) and the Sāhitya-darpaṇa (1.2). From the devotional point of view and in terms of this discussion, it may be asked how one can be asked in one verse not to identify with Krishna, while in the latter one is advised to identify with Rama, the hero of the Rāmāyaṇa, and not with his enemy, the demon Ravana.

To begin with, the idea here is that for the audience of a well-done piece of theatre or writing, identification is a natural and spontaneous process, and generally speaking manipulated by the author. Gender does not necessarily play an immediate role: one identifies with the āśraya of the particular emotion. So you may be an old man and yet still identify with a young girl whose is the central figure of a tale, undergoing trials, overcoming odds, falling in love, receiving love, achieving goals, etc.

Similarly, a clever author with a more modern sensibility may make it possible to identify with a demon like Ravana, as a human being with failings, etc. A number of recent films and books, including a recent publication by Norman Mailer, have dealt with the early life of Hitler, but they have all confronted the same ethical dilemma: does humanizing the demon, i.e., making him a sympathetic character, not do an injustice to the countless victims he created?

But the point here is that the modern literary sensibility rejects the naked archetypes of mythology. Humanism as opposed to a purely religious approach to life understands that humans are essentially flawed and that no individual can be a perfect simulacre of whichever archetype that exists. Nevertheless, to some degree or another, archetypal themes continue to underly all works of literature. The conflict in the two mentalities can be seen particularly in hagiography; devotees hope to see the archetypal saint manifest with only slight variations in every human being who has been so designated.

When you read Indian hagiographies, you tend to find similar anecdotes being recounted about saints who lived in different times and places. Indeed, the same phenomenon can be seen in the lives of Christian saints, whose lives are sometimes lifted wholesale from other traditions (e.g. the story of the Buddha, which becomes that of the Christian St. Josaphat). The conflict between conservative and more liberal religious attitudes often rests on this archaic/modern dichotomy. Just look at Rochana Das's crusade on the Sampradaya Sun against Satsvarupa's life of Prabhupada: to present Abhaya Charan De as a human being engaged in a struggle to attain liberation and perfection, etc., does not fit the strictly hagiographical model of the archetypal saint.

As I said, however, in a good story, i.e., in a story that produces rasa in the audience, the archetypal elements shine through: it is precisely the interplay of specific human elements being contrasted with the ideal that make the story rasa-worthy. Christ himself asks God why he has forsaken him when supposedly engaged in his great act of perfect sacrifice. In the Krishna cycle of myth, we sometimes get elements of doubt, but these have been glossed over as "lila", that mysterious hermeneutical device that tends to obscure as much as it reveals. Rama's humanity is revealed in his doubts of Sita's chastity, while Krishna's humanity is nowhere more evident than in his subjection to Radha's love.

mo-viṣaye gopī-gaṇera upapati-bhāve
yoga-māyā karibeka āpana-prabhāve
āmiha nā jāni tāhā, nā jāne gopī-gaṇa
duṅhāra rūpa-guṇe duṅhāra nitya hare mana
dharma chāḍi' rāge duṅhe karaye milana
kabhu mile, kabhu nā mile, daivera ghaṭana

The influence of Yogamaya will inspire the gopis with the sentiment that I am their paramour. Neither the gopis nor I shall notice that Yogamaya is in fact governing our pastimes, for our minds will be completely entranced by one another's beauty and qualities. Our passionate desire will unite us even at the expense of moral and religious duties. Sometimes Destiny will bring us together and sometimes will keep us apart. (CC 1.4.29-31)

The subjection of Krishna to Yogamaya or to Daiva is the sign of his humanity. Though we may resist this movement toward humanism, historically it is a most significant development and is in fact the essence of the symbol system. Once again, it is the contrast between the ideal and the human that makes rasa truly possible. Aiśvarya or mādhurya alone are insufficient: it is when mādhurya is experienced against the backdrop of aiśvarya that we experience bhakti-rasa.

The modern sensibility finds naked archetypes singularly shallow and uninteresting, even though there continues to be a certain appetite for such things in popular entertainment. Those who are culturally educated, however, tend to find two-dimensional or false characterization of heroes, no matter how heroic, to be boring and entirely inadequate in producing the elements of aesthetic enjoyment that we call rasa. The most archetypal of erotic entertainment, the porno film, may produce a physical response, or the saccharine romance of the chick flick or Harlequin novel may similarly produce a sentimental reaction, precisely because the notes that are being played are so fundamental, but once again, intellectually tiresome and vapid to the educated sāmājika.

This is why I would challenge Western devotees who have read books like the Govinda-līlāmṛta and other līlā-granthas to admit that there is a limit to the degree that it produces the desired reaction. Once the intellectual thrall in dealing with the novelty loses its luster, one is faced with a problem that we generally attribute to "lack of attraction" due to "lack of faith" or even "offenses," or to insufficient adhikāra or whatever. For Westernized critics, the problem seems self-evident.