Śrīla Prabhupāda often declared his greatest contribution to be his translation and commentary on the Śrīmad-bhāgavata-purāṇa, a feat which he accomplished, clearly, under the authority, and within the culture, of the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava sampradāya. Prabhupada’s approach differs from that of ordinary academicians, yet the difference is not due to a lack of rigor, or internal coherence in Prabhupāda’s writings, nor to a shortage of system or science. I will talk about the philosophical and hermeneutical culture within which Prabhupāda did his writing, the way in which he obeyed, and utilized, that tradition in his presentation of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, in the hope that I can at least partially bridge this gap between modern academic culture and the type of Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava hermeneutics so clearly visible in Prabhupāda’s work. I will focus on Prabhupāda’s presentation of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam.
The Bhāgavatam is one of the eighteen Purāṇas, and according to its own autobiographical data, Veda Vyāsa composed it after that legendary sage had already categorically divided the Vedas, for ease of comprehension, and supplemented them with the epic Mahābhārata. All of this literary work was meant to facilitate spiritual life in this fallen age of Kali. Apparently Vyāsa, in his earnest attempt to make spiritual life appealing to materialistic people, made too many concessions and thus produced a body of canonical literature which seemed to teach that the goal of religion is god-given prosperity in exchange for earthly piety. To balance this emphasis on karma-kāṇḍa, and at the request of his own Guru Nārada Muni, Vyāsa then composed the cream of all Vedic literature, the Bhāgavata-purāṇa. The Bhāgavatam evolves within twelve skandas or cantos, among which the tenth is celebrated for its 90 chapter narration of the life of Kṛṣṇa. Scholars have often expressed their appreciation of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam.
Professor Winternitz observed that the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam “is the one Purāṇa which, more than any of the others, bears the stamp of a unified composition and deserves to be appreciated as a literary production on account of its language, style, and metre.” (A History of Indian Literature, translated by S. Ketkar; N.Y. 1971; I, 556.)
According to Professor Daniel Ingalls, the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam “stands out by reason of its literary excellence, the organization that it brings to its vast material, and the effect that it has had on later writers.” (“Foreword,” in Krishna: Myths, Rites, and Attitudes, ed. by Milton Singer; Chicago 1968; p vi)
About the Bhāgavatam, Professor Daniel Sheridan states, “Three Vaishnava schools, founded by Madhva, Vallabha, and Caitanya, view its teachings as authoritative. It is the main channel through which the stories and legends about Kṛṣṇa have entered the length and breadth of Hindu civilization.” (The Advaitic Theism of the Bhāgavatam Purāṇa, Motilal, 1986, p 2)
Sheridan goes on to point out that the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam is the principle text for the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇavas, the followers of Śrī Caitanya. Indeed Caitanya’s own teachings were based on the Bhāgavatam, as we clearly see in Kṛṣṇadāsa Kavirāja’s highly revered Caitanya-caritāmṛta, a near contemporary biography of Śrī Caitanya. There we learn that, upon being questioned by His famous disciple, Sanātana Gosvāmī, on the entire range of theological conclusions [saba siddhānta puchilā 2.23.115] Śrī Caitanya responded by giving all of the confidential conclusions of the Bhāgavatam [Bhāgavata-siddhānta gūḍha sakali kahilā 2.23.115], the clear implication being that the Bhāgavatam’s conclusions contain and illumine all of the fundamental religious truths. Let us look for a moment at the term siddhānta, as it is used in this exchange between Sanātana Gosvāmī and Śrī Caitanya. For those who are not Sanskritists, the term siddhānta is composed of two words; siddha and anta. Anta means ‘end’ and further conveys in Sanskrit the sense of ‘conclusion, definite ascertainment, or certainty.’ Siddha means, among other things; ‘accomplished, fulfilled, perfected, sacred, illustrious,’ as well as ‘admitted to be true or right, established, settled, proved.’ Thus siddhānta indicates the ‘established end or purpose,’ ‘a demonstrated conclusion of an argument, a settled opinion or doctrine, a received or admitted truth.’
As in other systems of thought, including that of Western academics, it is also true for Vaiṣṇava philosophy that a certain measure of free thinking, speculation, exploration, and discovery takes place within fixed boundaries. And it is precisely the siddhāntas of a system which define and mark those lines beyond which one may not authentically transit. The Vaiṣṇava tradition in general, and certainly the Bhāgavatam in particular, recognize this dynamic interaction, and tension, between respect for the timeless boundaries which define a sacred tradition, and the need for timely, relevant exegesis based on a teacher’s personal inspiration and insight. We have already seen, in the case of Vyāsa, the tension, and dangers, inherent in the attempt to make a timeless tradition relevant in a timely, contemporary manner. We also have the following statement of Śrīla Sūta Gosvāmī, the famous reciter of the Purāṇas, who here describes to an assembly of sages his personal encounter with his guru, Śukadeva Gosvāmī:
“O sages, there as the saintly sage was speaking, he of abundant splendor, there I was seated and I too understood by his mercy. I shall tell it now to you, by the text, and to my best judgment.”
[tatra kīrtayato viprā viprarṣer bhūri-tejasaḥ, ahaṃ cādhyagamaṃ tatra niviṣṭas tad-anugrahāt, so ‘haṃ vaḥ śravayiṣyāmi yathādhītaṃ yathā-mati SB 1.3.44].
Let us focus on the last words of this statement; “by the text, and to my best judgment.” The Sanskrit terms are, respectively, yathādhītam and yathā-mati. First, yathā-adhītam means literally “as read or studied,” and thus indicates “strictly according to the text.” In contrast to this term is yathā-mati, “according to one’s judgment or opinion.” The first term invokes discipline and fidelity, the second personal insight and freedom. It is my contention that the clue to the Vaiṣṇava presentation of Śāstra, whether in translation or commentary, and whether Gauḍīya or other, is found in the two pregnant terms, yathādhītaṃ and yathā-mati, which are juxtaposed here by Sūta. Śrīdhara Svāmī, whom Śrī Caitanya accepted as the most authoritative commentator on the Bhāgavatam, glosses these terms as follows: “[Sūta’s narration will be] “yathādhītam, according to the text, rather than a flashy presentation of his own realization [na tu sva-mati-vilasitam]. But even so, the term yathā-mati [indicates that he will speak] according to his own realization [tatrāpi yathā-mati sva-maty-anusāreṇa] [but in this sense; Sūta means to say] ‘I will explain extensively that which was spoken in summary [by my guru] [saõkṣepataḥ kathitaṃ vistarataḥ Śrāvayiṣyāmi].”
Thus to be considered authorized within the Vaiṣṇava-sampradāya a translator must correctly ascertain the siddhānta of a sacred text, and indeed of a sacred tradition, and then explain it, expand it, embellish it, according to his or her own realization, but within the framework of the siddhānta.
Now, to make clear how the Vaiṣṇava community keeps a firm grasp on their siddhānta, we must touch briefly on the institution of paramparā. The Sanskrit word paramparā, literally means ‘a succession; one after the other,’ and is found in the fourth chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā. There Lord Kṛṣṇa declares that He originally spoke the knowledge of yoga to the sun-god Vivasvān, Vivasvān spoke to Manu, and Manu to Ikṣvāku, and that this chain of teaching in succession is known as paramparā. For the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇavas, these verses of the Bhagavad-gītā not only define a primeval process through which genuine spiritual knowledge is transmitted, they authorize and require the continuation of the process now and in the future. Within what modern scholars call historical Vaiṣṇavism, such figures as Rāmānuja, Madhva, and Caitanya acted as ācāryas, spiritual leaders who teach by their ācāra, or personal conduct, and in recent times Bhaktivinoda Ṭhākura, Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī and Bhaktivedānta Svāmī are widely accepted as holding the same exalted status. For the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇavas, the Purāṇic speakers headed by Kṛṣṇa, together with the ācāryas, constitute a single chain of paramparā, a succession of teachers and students. Each bona fide student in the chain is considered to have faithfully repeated the words of his teacher, even if not verbatim. A Vaiṣṇava must accept and repeat the words of the paramparā teachers in order to be recognized as a member of the sampradāya, the authorized spiritual community. Similarly, only a proven member of the sampradāya will be eligible to represent the paramparā.
My thesis here is that the Vaiṣṇava paramparā exhibits a special notion of translation or transmission of sacred texts, and that this is the case both in Purāṇic time and in times that are non-controversially historical. Further this special sense reveals much about the inner workings and essential philosophy of the tradition. For example we may consider the work of Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī ˇhākura who acted as the great ācārya of the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava community during the first three decades of this century. In addition to establishing over sixty branches of his Gauḍīya Maṭha throughout India, and even in London, he wrote and lectured extensively, refused an academic chair at the University of Calcutta, and translated the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam from Sanskrit into Bengali with commentary on each verse. His most prominent disciple, my own teacher, Śrīla Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda, who spread the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava movement throughout the world, translated most of the Bhāgavatam into English, again with commentary on each verse.
The translations and commentaries of these two individuals bear the unmistakable mark of a masterful insight into the language and content of the Bhāgavatam, yet their translations show limited concern for the type of fussy literalism that often marks the academic approach. Clearly the Vaiṣṇava ācāryas understand their mandate as translators in a way which differs from academic norms. What is going on here?
We shall begin to answer this question by considering the Vedic and Purāṇic phenomenon of the structural frame. To give but a few examples, ritual pūjā, the worship of God or the gods, is framed by acts of calling the Deity, entertaining the Deity, and finally bidding the Deity farewell. Similarly, as Dr. Witzel often points out, the structure of Vedic fire sacrifice is most usefully viewed as a frame. And in the case of elaborate sacrificial rites, complex arrays of ritual components are often inserted as sub-frames, situated within a ritual ‘main-frame.’
Within the Bhāgavatam we may say that a particular guru-disciple relationship constitutes a type of frame. This is significant for our topic since the teaching of the Bhāgavatam, both within the text and by later teachers, translators, and transmitters, almost invariably takes place within a guru-disciple relationship. The guru-disciple frame functions as follows: the disciple first approaches and honors the guru, the guru then enlightens the disciple by teaching him or her the Bhāgavatam, and finally the enlightened student renders grateful service to his or her teacher and begins a new life as a God conscious individual. Such a successful spiritual transmission serves as a link in a continuous chain of teaching. In the Bhāgavatam we witness this process in action. For example, upon being questioned by Śaunaka, Sūta will sometimes say that a similar question was once posed to his guru Śuka. Suddenly we are taken back to the banks of the Ganges, where the saintly King Parikṣit, cursed to die in seven days, poses a similar question to his teacher, Śuka. Śuka may then answer the question, or indeed he may recall that his own father, Veda-vyāsa, asked a similar question to Nārada, and in an instant we are eye-witnesses to that encounter, which may resolve the original inquiry, or, conceivably, we may be referred further up the chain of paramparā, as Nārada remembers posing the very question at hand to Lord Brahmā, creator of the cosmos. And so it goes. Of course, at times, Brahmā states that he once asked that question of Nārāyaṇa, the Lord Himself, who may give the answer or recite yet another story in which another sage actually answered the question. Usually, we will not move through so many levels in a single narration. The picture I have just given is unusually elaborate, but I think the point is clear. The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam teaches paramparā not only in theory, but in action.
The teachings of the current ācārya constitute a theological main-frame, for the ācārya presents within his teachings the real essence of all the previous ācāryas. For the current Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava sampradāya, the translations and commentaries of Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda constitute the living main-frame of the tradition. In the understanding of the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇavas, the great ācāryas go beyond literal translation and treat the Sanskrit text exactly as Sūta treated the words he heard from Śuka, or as Śuka dealt with the message he received from his father, Vyāsa, or as Vyāsa “translated” the words of his guru, Nārada. If we recall the terms yathādhītaṃ yathā-mati, we could say that those who thoroughly realize the essence of the text enjoy a proportionately greater freedom to express their realizations. At the same time it is noteworthy that both Bhaktisiddhānta and Bhaktivedānta included in their published translations a word by word translation of the original text so that the explicit, literal, surface sense of the text is open for public inspection.
An explanation of the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava paramparā would be incomplete without some mention of Śrīdhara Svāmi who, according to Sheridan, wrote his commentary to the Bhāgavatam around 1325. Śrī Caitanya’s deep respect for Śrīdhara Svāmī’s interpretation of the Bhāgavatam is well illustrated in a celebrated incident that took place during Caitanya’s stay at Jagannātha Purī. Vallabhācārya is reported to have proudly proclaimed to Śrī Caitanya that he, Vallabha, had written a commentary on the Bhāgavatam which surpassed that of Śrīdhara Svāmī. [CC Antya-līlā, Chapter 7]. Indeed Vallabha claimed that Śrīdhara Svāmī “explains according to the circumstances” and is therefore “inconsistent in his explanations” [3.7.114]. Śrī Caitanya, playing upon the fact that the word svāmī can mean either a sannyāsī or a husband, responded that one who does not accept the svāmī, i.e. the husband, is a prostitute [3.7.115]. Śrī Caitanya then told Vallabha:
“Śrīdhara Svāmī is the spiritual master of the entire world because by his mercy we can understand Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. I therefore accept him as a spiritual master” [3.7.133].
Similarly, Jīva Gosvāmī writes at the beginning to his Bhāgavatam commentary, the Krama-sandarbha:
“I worship the feet of Śrīdhara Svāmī, for they are the sole guardian of bhakti. [My own commentary is meant to explain] either that which the venerable Svāmī did not make manifest, or things which are manifested but unclear.”
We have discussed the vital role of siddhānta and paramparā in the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava tradition, the special role of Śrīdhara Svāmī, and the all-pervading theological and spiritual significance of the Bhāgavatam in that tradition. Let us briefly review a few of the specific ways in which the Gauḍīya tradition utilizes the Bhāgavatam.
The Caitanya Caritāmṛta declares that the confidential essence of the Bhāgavatam is equal to saba vaiṣṇava dharma, the totality of Vaiṣṇava religious principles. [Bhāgavatam-ādi Śāstrera yata gūḍha marma 1.7.48]. For the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇavas, it is the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam that clearly and consistently establishes the supremacy of Kṛṣṇa as the original form of the Godhead. Thus when the Bhāgavatam declares kṛṣṇas tu bhagavān svayam, “among the incarnations of God, Kṛṣṇa is the Lord Himself” [SB 1.3.28], the Gauḍīyas take this statement to be the Bhāgavatam’s mahā-vākya, or principal teaching.
Finally, I will tell an anecdote that illustrates well the feelings of the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇavas toward the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. In 1972, while resting in Los Angeles, Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda once told me about his first arrival in America in the Boston Harbor in 1965. He was 69 years old, had never been outside of India, and had no one waiting to greet him. In his words, “As I walked down from the boat I did not know whether to turn left or right. I had no money. But I was not worried. I was confident because I brought with me the Bhāgavatam.” Indeed, Prabhupāda had brought within the hold of the cargo steamer that carried him to America 200 complete trilogies of his translation, with commentaries, of the first canto of the Bhāgavatam. As he spread the Kṛṣṇa consciousness movement throughout the world, Prabhupada continued to translate the Bhāgavatam. But when he passed away in 1977, his work was left incomplete, although he left behind an instruction that his disciples should finish the translation of Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam with commentary based on the previous ācāryas. I had the unique privilege of inheriting that instruction. With the blessings of Śrīla Prabhupada, and the help of my spiritual colleagues, I was able to complete 111 chapters of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam. I did so within the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava sampradāya, according to its traditional standards of authentic religious scholarship.
Upon beginning this task, however, I soon came to realize that since I was clearly not one of the great ācāryas, but at best a faithful servant of my guru, it would be mere imitation for me to claim the same authority and freedom in translating the text. I felt constrained not only by the siddhānta, the theological conclusions of my tradition, but also by the literal sense of the text. Of course, I gladly accepted the guidance of Śrīdhara Svāmī, for again, as the Caitanya Caritāmṛta states: prati-Śloke prati-akṣare nānā artha kaya. “In each verse of the Bhāgavatam, and in each syllable, there are various meanings” [2.24.318].
It is apparent by now that the bulk of my discourse has concerned itself with the most basic notions of translation, as transmission, within the Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava tradition. It was in fact Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava paramparā which largely determined the course of my work. For the most part, the translations which I effected with the invaluable assistance of my colleagues, has been well accepted by the Vaiṣṇava community, both in India and throughout the world. Although I have alluded to it today, a detailed discussion of the exact reasons for which the Sampradāya has recognized these books as authentic is a topic for another day. Thank you very much.
Bibliography
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Indian Literature, translated by S. Ketkar; N.Y. 1971; I, 556.)
According to Professor Daniel Ingalls, the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam “stands out by reason of its literary excellence, the organization that it brings to its vast material, and the effect that it has had on later writers.” (“Foreword,” in Krishna: Myths, Rites, and Attitudes, ed. by Milton Singer; Chicago 1968; p vi)