One may say it is
needless and reckless to bring up etic words such as Greek anamnēsis (“remembrance”) to theorize emic Buddhist
concepts. It maybe, but as a Buddhist theorist or a theoretician rather than a
practician (by the way, this word is attested), I succumb to my temptation to
do so. I believe, I have my personal reasons for doing so. Whatever and
whenever I write or express anything abstract or philosophical, I can only try to
do so in my acquired language, and never in my mother tongue. (My mother
tongue, by the way, is not Tibetan or rDzong-kha. People who speak the language
call their own language Tshangs-lha. There is no Tshang-lha script and
Tshang-lha-medium schools.) Some would pity me. Oh, how sad, it must be
terrible not to be able to express thoughts or things in his one’s own mother
tongue! I have certainly disadvantages but never feel disadvantaged. If I knew
and if I could, I would have learnt any language that I believe could help me
express complex ideas in a possibly precise, nuanced, and pregnant manner. So
long as I believe that a term can best capture or express a Buddhist idea, I
would not, as a principle, refrain from using any word, be it etic or emic.
Of course, care should be taken to avoid using terms that bring along wrong
connotations and associations, which, I believe can be precluded by clearly
defining the terms that one uses. In the end, terms and languages are mere
conventions, and are like the proverbial finger that points to the moon.
I learn that the term
“anamnesis” is used in Christianity, philosophy, and
medicine, and in each case it seems to have a distinct meaning or usage. Now I
propose to use it in the Buddhist philosophical context. For doing this, I will
take its literal meaning “remembrance” as the point of departure. By “Buddhist
anamnesis,” I wish to express the Buddhist idea of anusmṛti
(rjes su dran pa) of which there seems to several kinds (usually
six) and the idea of dhāraṇī. A proper understanding of the history and
philosophy of anusmṛti and dhāraṇī might—and just might—help us
to understand not only a piece of the history of Buddhism itself but also about
a piece of the philosophy of Buddhism. I do not wish to delve into the role of
the idea of buddhānusmṛti in the development of Buddhism, which I,
believe is, more known. The role of the idea of vidyā (“cognitive
formula”), mantra (“protective formula”) and dhāraṇī (“recollective
formula”) is also being increasingly recognized.
What is perhaps hardly
known is the idea that the dhāraṇīs (like the bodhisattvabhūmis
and pāramitās) are also regarded as the “great mothers” or “great
feminine consorts” (yum chen mo) of buddhas (RZ2: 492): “These
are yum (i.e. “mothers” and “female consorts”) because they procreate buddhas
and engage [in/with them]” (de nyid sangs rgyas rnams bskyed pa dang spyod
pas yum mo). Buddhists may often be confounded to see or know that Mahāyāna
Buddhism, be it in its Mantric or non-Mantric form, is riddled (or some might even
think “infested”) with depictions of all kinds of male and female deities; some
that look pleasing and pacifying whereas others that appear unpleasing and
terrifying. We cannot deny this fact. But how do we explain these phenomena?
Proposing them to be historical figures like the historical Buddha himself
would be as ludicrous as denying them together as foreign elements that
complacent Mahāyānists incorporated into Buddhism and hence as having nothing
to do Buddhism at all. I personally believe that we—again regardless of whether
we see such developments as desirable or as aberration (Fehlentwicklung)—could
offer a historically plausible explanation. For example, it would be difficult,
if not impossible to defend that a historical person Mañjuśrī and Mahākāla
lived in a certain period and in a certain place. In what place and in what
century should they have lived (if they lived)? Were they Indians, Tibetans,
Chinese, or Central Asians? The idea of Mañjuśrī, for example, I think, can
certainly be traced. This is not just a position of a hypercritical and
hypocritical (and what some might think self-serving) academician. I recall
mKhan-po ’Jigs-med-phun-tshogs once telling us: “If you think Mañjuśrī is a
person eternally holding a sword and utpala, you have missed the point.”
Mañjuśrī is to be understood, so to speak, as an icon, a representation or
crystallization, or, an iconic figure that stands for the embodiment of the
insights (or cognitive aspects) of all buddhas and bodhisattvas
(or if you will simply all beings).
Thus far I have believed
that only the “perfection of insight” (prajñāpāramitā: shes rab kyi pha rol
tu phyi pa) has been depicted as the “Great Mother” (Yum-chen-mo). But all
ten pāramitās and bhūmis, a host of other feminine nouns which
express central Mahāyāna concepts have been considered as “great mothers” and
as “goddesses” (RZ2: 491–492). What seems to be desideratum, in my view, is to
take all possible items/topics/categories (and subcategories) found in the
Abhidharmic literature and see how these very items have been described in
Prajñāpāmitā literature and then study how and with what/which (female or male)
deity each item has been identified. As far as I can see, the five Tathāgatas,
the eight Bodhisattvas, and all the female and male deities we see in Mantric
literature are explained as the pure nature or purity of a particular phenomenon
included in the phenomena of ground (gzhi)—five skandhas, twelve āyatanas,
eighteen dhātus—and of the path (lam) including 37 bodhyaṅgas.
I don’t know if this theory has ever been proposed by anyone thus far but I
speculate that grammatical gender of a word that expresses a certain topic
could have opened up the possibility for the eventual personification and
deitification of all phenomena. Rong-zom-pa
(RZ2: 491–492) seems to suggest that one of the reasons why most of the
phenomena have been considered “goddesses” (lha mo) and “mothers or
consorts” (yum) is their female grammatical gender (mo’i rtags).
The fact the upāya is grammatically masculine seems to have provided a
possibility for one to call it “father” (and not “mother”) and the feminine
grammatical gender of prajñā seems to have provided one with a
possibility to call it “mother” (and not “father”). One feels that in a
language where there is no grammatical gender, such a creative development
would not have taken place, at least not so conveniently or readily. The grammatical
gender or sex by itself and already seems to imply personification. That is, grammatically,
prajñāpāramitā can only be a “she,” which is de facto a “female
person.” It is said that one cannot become a buddha without prajñāpāramitā;
prajñāpāramitā is said to procreate a buddha and thus she is said
to be a “mother.” She is an extraordinary “mother” who procreates supernal
awakened beings. The elements of femininity and divinity seem to merge into one
in this way. So we see Prajñāpāramitā depicted as a female deity. No one, not
even the tradition, would take the deity Prajñāpāramitā as a historical person
allocable to a certain time and place. And this, in my view, is crucial for
understanding the entire of world of Sūtric and Mantric Buddhism filled with
various types of deities.
Now returning to
“Buddhist Anamnesis,” some of the key terms and concepts that need to be
explored are of anusmṛti (rjes su dran pa) and smṛti (dran
pa). The
six anusmṛtis as
recorded, for example, in the Mahāvyutpatti, are buddhānusmṛti, dharmānusmṛti, saṃghānusmṛti, śīlānusmṛti, tyāgānusmṛti, and devatānusmṛti. Instead of śīlānusmṛti, Rong-zom-pa has ānāpānānusmṛti (Wangchuk 2007: 302). “Not forgetting bodhicitta” (bodhicittāsaṃpramoṣa), too, is important. From a viewpoint of axiology and
epistemology, I think that although “recollection” or “remembrance” would be
seen as instrumentally valid and valuable, but epistemically be considered invalid.
That is, dran pa cannot be a tshad ma and it is not a tshad ma!
From a viewpoint of psychology, dran pa would essentially be considered a
wholesome mental factor (kuśala: dge ba), and depending on the stage of
its development, it would it is one of the five faculties (dbang po lha)
or five kinds of strength (stobs lnga). It can be defiled (zag pa
dang bcas pa) as in my case or undefiled in the case of a bodhisattva
on the second bhūmi, for instance. From a standpoint of ontology, how
far can dran pa subsist? According to those who maintain that a buddha
is nothing but purified dharmadhātu, dran pa, which is a
cognitive element, would cease when its cause and conditions ultimately cease
at the stage of a buddha.
As for dhāraṇī (gzungs or gzungs
ma), we can find the concept of it in both Sūtric and Mantric forms of
Buddhism. It may be translated as “mnemonic formula.” In contrast to mantra—which
may be rendered as “magical formula” or perhaps better as “protective formula,”
particularly considering its speculative etymology shes skyob “that
which protects the mind”—and vidyā (rig sngags or rig ma),
which may be translated as “cognitive formula,” dhāraṇī is a
“recollective formula” or “retentive formula.” Just as a mathematical or
chemical formula captures, encapsulates, expresses, and retains a great deal of
information in just a few letters or numbers, so does dhāraṇī seems to
be conceived of as a formula that captures, encapsulates, expresses, and
retains a great deal of information about Buddhist theories and practice. One
can easily understand how and why it can be maintained to carry out to play the
role of the Buddha or a buddha and his activities in the world. In a
way, it is as though dhāraṇī were a kind of chip or “memory card” that
conserves, preserves, and reserves crucial information about the Buddhist
doctrine for the present and future generations. Just as a mathematical or
chemical formula might appear to a lay person nonsensical, gibberish, or,
unintelligible, if we do not understand its nature, function, history, and philosophy,
dhāraṇī might appear to be nonsensical, gibberish, or, unintelligible.
But worth bearing in mind is not everything that appears to be hocus-pocus must
necessarily be hocus-pocus. Again we may not believe in the actual efficacy of dhāraṇī
but the question that we have to ask is whether we really understand the idea
of/behind dhāraṇī.
In Mantric Buddhism, dhāraṇī came to be called
a “Great Mother” (yum chen mo), “a goddess” (lha mo), or “a
female consort” (yum or gzungs ma). It is perhaps only too apt to
identify and personify dhāraṇī as a female principle or female person.
With all due respect to the “male principles” and “male persons” (and with all
possible exceptions), one does seem to get an impression in real life that
“female elements/persons” tend to be more “protective,” “retentive,” and “attentive” of
whatever or whoever is entrusted to them. In this connection, I find the idea
of entrusting (a Tantric scripture) to a woman (bud med la yongs su gtad pa)
seems to be very interesting. If I were Vajradhara and if I had a choice to
entrust my tantra to a man or a woman, I, too, would chose to entrust it
to the latter. Fellow men, I mean no offence to you! There would be no
guarantee, of course, but the chances that my tantra will be protected
and thus survives a little longer is perhaps a bit greater!
