The "heterodoxies"

During this same period the Gangetic basin was alive with other kinds of seekers and schools of speculation, less oriented by vaidika imagery, though not necessarily ignorant of it.

A certain mood or temper characterized much of this speculation. For example, just as in the Upanisads one hears of individual teachers by name, so it is that individuals in the valley became more dominant as shapers of public discourse: a king or chieftain could control an urban complex; an individual could be a teacher and even a paradigm or model to be followed. There was less interest in the class system perpetuated in the vaidika circles and more emphasis on classlessness or at least the accessibility of salvation to all irrespective of birth. In fact, these “heterodox” systems were often initiated by rdjanyas (members of the royal communities) and other non-brahmans, though not a few brahmans also became involved. Followers of these movements were often drawn from the trades and other groups which were not accommodated by the sacrificial system. The movements that arose in the Gangetic plain often challenged “Vedic” authority - they were perceived, by some brahmanas, as avaidika - people who did not adhere to the primacy of vaidika metaphors. They were also called nastikas (that is, “unbelievers”). Further, most of the “heterodox” schools that emerged were not theistic - that is, interested in the idea of “god.” (Even the early Upanisadic speculations did not articulate a notion of a theistic being, rather of a monistic/non-personal essence.) Those heterodoxies that were monistic, even chthonic (Carvakas, Ajivikas, Buddhists) referred to matter as the single reality; dualistic schools (Jainism, Samkhya) spoke of two co-eternal but impersonal realities. These heterodox movements tended to stress action (karma) more than wisdom (jnana) as a way to attain liberation, though both Jainism and Buddhism spoke of wisdom as prelude to attaining one’s destiny.

Among the less well known “heterodoxies” were the schools known as Carvakas (materialists) and Ajivikas (those who deny the existence of eternal entities [jivas]). As their names suggest, both were materialistic schools; only matter was believed to have existed and this perpetuated itself by the logic of karma. There was no eternal self or life after death, nor was there a “god” or a universal essence. Life was as it appeared and was to be accepted as it was if one chose to be free from the folly of thinking otherwise. Samkhya, on the other hand, was a dualistic system. There were two co-eternal realities: prakrti - matter, the feminine, the “field”; and purusa - spirit, the male, the “knower of the field.” These two entities pervading the universe were expressed in three attributes or gunas: sattva - the propensity toward nobility, knowledge and goodness; rajas - the propensity toward action; and tamas - the propensity for torpor, lethargy, and inaction. Clearly the three had intimations of older Vedic numerology and spiraled their way through certain later expressions of Indian thought - not least importantly, in the later chapters of the Bhagavadgita.

Jainism

The best-known of these “heterodoxies” are Jainism and Buddhism. It is worth looking with more care at the development of each.

By the sixth century bce Jainism had become a recognizable option in the Gangetic basin. Its systematization is attributed to a teacher called Mahavira (literally, “great hero”). The Jain tradition claims he was the twenty-fourth in a long line of tirthankaras (literally, “forders of the stream”) who epitomized Jain teachings. In fact, little historical evidence exists for any earlier figures and much that is ascribed to Mahavira has become clouded by myth and legend. The tradition claims that he was of noble birth, he renounced wealth, and set out in search of the truth, the same pattern as is found in the story of Buddhism’s founder. Jains insist the truth was already there, the result of the previous tirthankaras, but that Mahavira systematized it and made it accessible.

As a tirthankara, Mahavira was believed to have crossed over from this world to a purely “jivic” state of liberation. Before doing so, however, he became a guru, gathered a group of disciples around him and began to articulate the principles of Jainism. His monks and the movement spread northwest as well as south into the Deccan and Southern India. They became advisers to kings, students of language and literature, and exemplars of the Jain ethic.

Tradition has it that during Mahavira’s lifetime, he attracted a number of followers, including some brahmans, so many brahmans, in fact, that some ambiguity existed in the early centuries as to the appropriateness of the term “avaidika” or “heterodox.”¹⁰ Jain texts claim that the followers were clustered into four groups - monks, nuns, laymen, and laywomen, in each case more women than men.¹¹ It is evident that, despite the rigor ofJain discipline, it was attractive to some. Why? There may have been several reasons. There must have been some disenchantment with urban life and a sense of being excluded from the elaborate, expensive brahmin-dominated sacrificial system and even from the relatively esoteric Upanisadic cells. Perhaps more important, the Jain movement (and later the Buddhist one) was attractive to merchants and other tradesmen who welcomed the opportunity to work out their own liberation. Jainism seemed to have encouraged and rewarded those who in their daily lives pursued the ideal of the “perfected person” or “pure one” (sresthin).¹² Not least of all, persons from the lower echelons of society saw in such a movement an opportunity for social egalitarianism and religious enlightenment. But why more women than men? Women were no doubt even more restricted in their access to brahmanic rituals; many may have preferred this option to widowhood or even to the growing restraints on marriage. Probably most important, men may have had several wives and, when “converted” brought their wives with them.¹³

After the death of Mahavira, the community was led by persons known as Ganadharas.

Around the third century bce, one of these, Bhadrabahu, led a group of monks into the Deccan to avoid a pending famine; upon his return, he found that those who had stayed had formed a more liberal group organized by Sthulabhadra. A schism resulted: Bhadrabahu’s followers became known as Digambaras (sky-clad) for their unwillingness to wear clothing; Sthiilabhadra’s followers became known as the Svetambaras (whiteclad).

The basic belief system of the Jains may have been in place as early as the sixth century bce, though it was certainly elaborated over the ensuing centuries. As with most Indian schools of thought, one starts with a fundamental cosmology: for theJains, the world was composed of an infinite number of jivas (“life-monads”) and ajivas (entities that have no lifesubstance, and which are therefore heavy and “karmic”). These two sets of entities were thought to intermingle in the universe in a process known as bandha (connection, binding, etc.). The “life-monads” (jivas), being lighter, tended to rise, while the ajivas tended to sink. Hence, the universe was like a gigantic hierarchy with those organisms which were mostjlvic being nearer the top and those which were ajivic sinking to the bottom. The earth and human beings have remained somewhere in the middle - the tirthankaras have risen to the top as they have burned off karmic entities. Liberation from this intermingling was attainable by burning off ajivas and thereby rising in the cosmic order. In addition, Jain mythology envisioned time as proceeding in a series of six cycles. The first was thought to be one of perfection, when human beings were giants and acted in accordance with jivas and the truth. In subsequent cycles, the world became progressively bad, humans became smaller, and there was a diminution of life span, knowledge, and truthful activity. After the sixth cycle, it was believed, the progression would reverse, moving back to the primordial age of perfection.

One attained liberation from this spatial-temporal matrix by following five basic vows: These were: 1) Non-possession (aparigraha) - one was expected to gain and keep only the basic necessities of life and give the rest away.

2) Celibacy (brahmacarya) - monks were to remain completely celibate, while the laity was not to exploit anyone sexually. Not only was the loss of sexual fluids thought to represent the loss of power, but the sex act itself was also generally thought to be selfish and exploitative. 3) Non-stealing (asteya). Taking or coveting anything which was not one’s own was the epitome of self-aggrandizement, which only nurtured the ajivas in one’s nature. 4) Truthfulness (satya from as - to be) had the implication of being true to the fundamental character of the universe. 5) Non-violence (ahimsa). The best-known of all the Jain vows was that of non-violence. Monks were to eschew the taking of any life altogether, while laymen were selective in the observance of this vow. Non-violence, for the monk and the layman, entailed the avoidance of: a) occupational violence - one should avoid occupations that cause one to take life (i.e., butcher, fisherman, hunter); in some cases, kings were exempted from this vow, insofar as war was understood to be a last resort; b) protective violence - one should refrain from taking a life even if attacked, again more carefully followed by monks than laymen; c) intentional violence - any intentional harm to a living being was considered detrimental to the pursuit of liberation; d) accidental violence - monks, in particular, have been known to use a whisk broom to sweep the path before they take a step or to wear gauze over the mouth lest an insect be inadvertently swallowed. It was partially to avoid the possibility of catching insects in the folds of one’s garments that the Digambara monks chose to eschew garments of any kind.

The rationale behind these vows was self-discipline and the burning off of ajlvas. By non-exploitation of others and the purification of one’s own lifestyle one was thought able to attain ultimate liberation (kevaljnana). Obviously, this process could not occur all at once, so some fourteen stages on the path to liberation were envisioned.

As the Jain community took its place on the subcontinent in subsequent centuries, the community placed a high degree of emphasis on education - monks were the teachers and exemplars par excellence. Many layJains went into occupations consistent with their vows - commercial enterprises, craftsmanship, the study of language and literature, and the production of the arts especially of miniature portrayals. They were advisers to kings (for example, of the Katamba, Ganga, and Pantiya dynasties); writers of lexicons and producers of artistic expressions.

One of the most significant contributions of the Jains to the Indian landscape was the principle of non-violence itself. Apparently they were the first people in the world to espouse such an ethic, and its practice was adapted by Buddhists and selectively appropriated by Jain and Buddhist dynasties alike. Eventually, it was adapted by vaidika communities so that, by the end of the seventh century ce, foreign travelers from China would report that vegetarianism was a common practice in India. The ethic has remained an option in some circles even into the present: Mahatma Gandhi, for example, was influenced as a young man by Jain neighbors in the state of Gujarat.

Another important contribution ofJain thought was the role their “logic” played in maintaining peaceful discourse on the subcontinent. Jains emphasized the principle of “epistemological relativity” or “many-sidedness” (anekantavada). That is, “truth” had not only two possibilities but several as expressed in the “doctrine of may be” (syadvada). According to this logic, there were several ways of perceiving a thing:

1) We may affirm a proposition (syadasti) - that is, a room may seem warm.

2) We may negate the same proposition (syanndsti) - for example, a room may seem cold, especially if we have just stepped from a warmer room.

3) One may affirm and negate the proposition at the same time (syadastinasti) - that is, a room may seem both warm and not warm.

4) One may say a thing is indescribable (syadavaktavya) - a room may seem warm/not warm; both/and; neither/nor; that is, the true nature of the room may be elusive. Some three other more pedantic points follow from these principles and were developed by later schools.

Similarly, there was the Jain doctrine of relative viewpoints (nayavada). These included seven propositions: 1) An object may be considered in several connotations at once (naigana-naya). For example, a man may be both an individual and a representative of the species homo sapiens. 2) An object may be considered as representing only a generic character (scmgraha- naya) - a man may represent homo sapiens. 3) An object may embody all idiosyncrasies of its term (vyavahara-naya) - that is, a man may represent all the connotations people have of him as a person. 4) An object may represent only a specific moment and place, quite apart from its past or future (rjusUtra-naya). 5) An object may embody synonyms or implications (sabda- naya); 6) An object may be understood only in its conventional meanings, without regard to its etymology (samabhirudha-naya). 7) An object may be understood in terms of its etymology (evambhuta-nayci))-⁴

It is fair to say that these principles contributed to a climate of tolerance amongst disputants in the Indian subcontinent in later centuries. While Jain philosophers were not reluctant to argue that their own position was the most nearly true, they insisted on the relativity of viewpoints and hence the necessity to see truth in various positions. Contemporary students of symbols, engaged in the subdiscipline known as semiotics, could do much worse than reflect on those Jain principles of interpretation.

Jains were starting to produce their thought in textual form by the third and second centuries bce. These early sources included such texts as the Acaranga, Sutrakrtariga, and Uttarddhyana Sutras. The canon was edited and finalized by one Devardnigani in 526 ce. Much of Jain thought is in place by the sixth century ce.

Early Buddhism

Around the sixth century bce, yet another “heterodox” movement developed that proved to be highly significant in a number of ways. Founded by a person variously called Siddhartha (literally, “he who has achieved his goal”) or Gautama (from the name of the warrior clan [Sakyas] into which he was born), the movement came to have the name Buddhism.

Little is known of the historical figure who came to be called “the Buddha” save as later texts multiply stories about him. He was apparently born around 560 bce (though some scholars suggest a later date) as the crown prince of a clan chief in the city republic of Kapilavastu in the foothills of the Himalayas, in an area near Nepal. Siddhartha was being groomed to the life of royalty and governance, when, legends tell us, he was curious about his kingdom and prevailed upon his charioteer to ride him about the city. On subsequent days, the legend maintains, he saw an old man, a sick person, and a corpse being borne in a funeral procession. After each sighting he was reminded by his charioteer that illness, old age, and death were very much a part of life. On yet another “field trip” he saw an ascetic, with arms upraised, staring into the sun and was told here was one seeking answers to life’s mysteries. Whatever the historicity of this story, it was intended to demonstrate the young prince’s increasingly troubled mind at the tragedies of existence. His restlessness became known to his father, the story goes on, who decided to throw a gala party intending to relieve the prince’s brooding mind. Yet, as the evening of the party wore on and dancing girls became increasingly tired and disheveled, and the music faded, the transitoriness of pleasure and wealth was dramatized. Gautama determined to leave the palace and seek for answers in the forests. According to some early texts, this occurred while the young man was in his teens; later texts indicate it was after he had married and had a child.

Gautama spent a number of years in quest of the answer to life’s traumas. Much of that time was spent with Jain mendicants, when fastidious fasting and other extremities were practiced. Whether or not these events occurred as later legends have it, they do nonetheless reflect a prevailing mood of this transition period - a disenchantment with city life, and the allure of the forest and the life of the ascetic, known as sramana in the non-Vedic movements.

Gautama’s quest ended with his attainment of enlightenment. It is said to have occurred under a “bo” tree at the mythological center of the world along the Ganges. “Enlightenment” encompassed several levels of experience: there was a dawning of intuition that allowed him to transcend everyday knowledge (manas) and attain wisdom (buddhi). The experience may have had physiological overtones as well, insofar as the nervous system is sometimes triggered by such stimuli as fasting and discipline into energetic or quiescent responses. Ultimately, a certain cognition occurred that offered Gautama a basic framework with which to comprehend existence. Known as the four noble truths, this became the foundation of Buddhism. His enlightenment and the insights it afforded became the central paradigms of Buddhism.

Tempted to stay where enlightenment occurred, the Buddha rather chose to offer his ideas to fellow seekers and to spend the rest of his life as a teacher. His first sermon, said to have occurred in a deer park near Banaras, summarized the “four noble truths,” shared by all Buddhists even today though interpreted differently.

The first formulation of this framework, as is so common in Indian speculations, was a statement about the nature of the world. The world was duhkha (unsatisfactory). This concept had several implications. For one thing, the entire universe was understood to be chthonic, that is, comprised only of matter. All things were impermanent (anitya) though there was a certain logic to the succession of these things based on the principle of kai'ma. The river that flows past one now is not the same river that flowed a minute ago insofar as the molecules of water are quite different ones from those that flowed earlier. This also implied there was no permanent self (Pali: anatta or Sanskrit anatman). Unlike the Upanisadic sages, there was a denial that there was a permanent cosmic essence (brahman) or an individual manifestation of it (atman). What then constitutes a person? A person was comprised entirely of matter, made of five aggregates known as skandhas. These skandhas were commonly illustrated by the phenomenon of a toothache: 1) in the tooth, there may be a cavity. This is a product of matter.

2) From the cavity arises pain or sensation - this is again derivative of the matter and is not the product of some non-material entity that might be called a spirit, soul or even mind (for the mind also is comprised of matter).

3) From the sensation of pain arises the perception that pain is occurring.

4) From the perception arises mental formations and ideations - an awareness that one has a toothache. 5) From this ideation arises consciousness

- an awareness that one is a person feeling the pain of a toothache.

Why was this materialistic monism said to be unsatisfactory, even painful? Of course, there is happiness but it is evanescent; ultimately, everything is impermanent; the more time, money, energy invested in that which is impermanent, the larger the disappointment when it is gone. Nothing lasts; hence, the “bottom line” in Buddhist cosmology was that death was inevitable

- that’s painful!

How did things get to be this way? The second formulation in the Buddha’s framework was the idea of the “chain of dependent causation” (pratitya-samutpada). A chain of twelve attributes were co-dependent and endlessly successive, each leading to the next. In that chain were two links which were particularly important as they marked points at which the chain could be broken. One of these links was “thirst” (trsna; Pali: tanha - one’s thirst, particularly for impermanent things, led to greater investment of energy in such things and merely perpetuated the process. Such thirst could not bring ultimate happiness and so was a basic problem of sentient beings. The other important link (the twelfth in the chain) was ignorance (avidya); not knowing the true nature of existence, its impermanence and hence its unsatisfactory character, merely served to keep the cycle going. If one could address the problem of thirst and of ignorance, one might find liberation and peace.

This was the third truth in the framework. There was indeed the possibility of deliverance from the chain - it was known as nirvana (Pali: nibbana). Nirvana has been variously understood, especially in the history of Western interpretations; but early Buddhist texts were quite clear in indicating that nirvana was a “blowing out” (as of a candle); a “cessation of thirst”; no longer putting logs on the fire. That is, nirvana was not a place (such as “heaven”) nor immortality - it was, at most, a change of consciousness which enabled one to live without attachments and with equanimity of mind. It was putting an end to one’s thirst.

How was this done? The fourth truth, known as the eightfold path outlined a pattern which combined appropriate action with appropriate mindfulness. It was a discipline designed to make the path a foretaste of the goal. Succinctly summarized, these eight principles were right insight, understanding, or vision; right intention or thoughts; right speech; right action; right livelihood; right effort; right mindfulness and memory; and right concentration.

This path to enlightenment represented a coalescence of several factors. It represented the interplay between performing acts of merit (punna) and eschewing acts of demerit (papa). It embodied an ethic intended to encourage charitable acts, humane social relationships, sexual control, and non-violence. The incorporation of non-violence was clearly a reaction to the perceived excesses of Vedic sacrifices and to the coerciveness of the chiefly power brokers; it may also have reflected the shift from pastoral to agricultural economies. Renunciation, as the early Buddhists understood it, was not so much the life of an ascetic - the loner who eschewed all attachments to social ties; rather, it was to assert a certain moral authority and to join with a group of fellow-renouncers who, by engaging with laypersons on the fringes of the towns, were offering an alternative way of life.¹⁵

Enacting this fourth principle was not easy. But it was thought to be available to anyone irrespective of birth or gender. It was not a path of extreme asceticism and certainly not one of hedonism or pleasure, hence, it was called the middle way. Seekers had to learn the way to enlightenment on their own, albeit with the help of instruction. That is, there was no god to offer salvation, but there were teachers and exemplars. One story suggested something of this ethic. A woman, having just lost her only child, came to the Buddha for help. “Sir, do you have medicine for me?” The answer was: “No; but eat some mustard seeds, but make sure you get the seeds from a family that has never experienced death.” Some time later she returned and Buddha asked her if she had found the seeds. “No,” she replied, “but you have healed me.” She had learned that there was no family which had not experienced death, and the perspective of that realization proved liberating. In fact, the story continued, the womanjoined the community of nuns.¹⁶

The question often asked of the early Buddhists was on the issue of “permanence” versus “impermanence.” Can a candle be the same if it is burned to the end or if another candle is lit from its flame? Not really, was the common answer; there was a logic of continuity as one entity of matter succeeded another by the logic of karma, but even every human organism changed over the years, as cells died and were replaced. Nor is the name one gave something the same as the thing itself; nor was any name permanent. One called a chariot a chariot, but no single part of the chariot was the chariot; nor was the name one gave the chariot the same as the chariot, and certainly no chariot was permanent, even though another chariot may be built from the image of a chariot the craftsman bore in his mind. A passage from the Milindapanha illustrated this idea:

“Reverend Nagasena,” said the King, “is it true that nothing transmigrates, and yet there is rebirth?”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“How can this be?... Give me an illustration.”

“Suppose, your Majesty, a man lights one lamp from another - does the one lamp transmigrate to the other?”

“No, your Reverence.”

“So there is rebirth without anything transmigrating!”¹⁷

During the life of the Buddha, a community of followers was gathered that grew rather quickly. Both men and women could enter monasteries or be recognized as laypersons. A cadre of sixty enlightened monks was commissioned to proclaim the Buddhist message to one and all. Merchants and royalty were attracted to the message as it offered them the opportunity to shape their own destinies. People, including some brahmans, were converted, not only as individuals, but also as clans, clusters of friends, or sectarian groups. A monastic order for women was initiated, including the Buddha’s own foster mother and her attendants, despite considerable ambivalence about the role of women in the movement.

At first, monks wandered homeless depending on the donations of laity for their livelihood. Soon, however, they were clustering in donated dwellings and by at least 200 bce, they began to live in rock-cut residences (viharas) donated by wealthy patrons. Monks and nuns had separate quarters, on the fringes of the cities, from which they could interact with laypersons - preaching the dhamma to them and receiving donations from them. People from the lower echelons of society were also attracted to the message because it was accessible and offered them the opportunity for enlightenment. The monastic communities maintained a strict discipline (known as vinaya). This discipline involved instructions as to lifestyle, moral behavior, daily activities, and principles for addressing offenses. These guidelines were designed (among other things) to help refine entrants drawn from the lower strata of society and to make all monks and nuns worthy of emulation.¹⁸

Meanwhile, laypersons were expected to observe those aspects of the Buddhist ethic appropriate for the householder - for example, generosity to the monks and refraining from killing, stealing, and sexual misconduct; but laypeople were not expected to practice meditation. In turn, they were promised happy rebirths and improvement in their religious and mundane lives. As with Jainism, the Buddhist movement was attractive to merchants who were economically powerful but didn’t necessarily receive social status in the vaidika system. Those from lower echelons of society also saw the movement as offering them opportunities, both religious and social.¹⁹

Within a century of the Buddha’s death, questions were already arising as to the nature of the dhamma - the teaching of the Buddha. A meeting at Rajagrha along the Ganges led to a split in the community of monks. Those who were more “conservative” in their understanding came to be known as Sthaviras (literally, “heroic elders”); and the more “progressive” group became known as the Mahasanghikas (those of the large assembly). The questions that divided them included the rules for monastic living - the vinaya. Some of the questions were significant: should a monk possess anything? Some questions were trivial: should a monk refrain from eating until sundown or only until the sun was three fingers from the horizon? A more important issue was how the life of the Buddha should be understood and consequently what was the role of the monks. The Sthaviras maintained that Buddha was an ideal man, a perfected arhat (that is, one who had “killed” the passions); hence, all monks were arhats seeking to attain Buddhahood. The Mahasanghikas doubted that the notion of perfection was available to mere mortals - Buddha must have been one who transcended the five skandhas; further, they thought arhats were flawed and subject to retrogression. Within centuries, in this school, there was a sense that the ideal for monks was the role of a bodhisattva - one who was characterized by the virtue of wisdom, who postponed attainment of ultimate nirvana until all creation had been enlightened. By the first century, this group was maintaining that the Buddha nature was innate in all sentient beings (not the attainment of the few) and that those who had become Buddhas were supra-mundane. This stream of Buddhism came to be known as Mahayana (the “great vehicle”) as opposed to the Theravada schools which sprang from the tradition of the Sthaviras.

Several schools emerged in the first few centuries of Buddhism. Two of these are worth mentioning here. The Sarvastivadins argued that the past and the future did not exist. More important was their articulation of the paths of virtue thought to be appropriate for the monks, known as the six perfections: generosity, morality, patience, vigor, meditation, and wisdom. This appears to be the school that most influenced King Asoka’s interpretation of Buddhism, though Asoka (third century bce) eschewed the last two perfections in favor of an ethic for laypersons. These perfections also became the basis for eventual iconic representations in Buddhism, when attributes were expressed iconically, often in the female form.

Another school which started some two to three centuries after the death of the Buddha is the one known as the Vatsiputriyas. This school also held there was no past or future, only a present. Founded by a converted brahman, named VatsipUtra, the school became especially important for its articulation of a notion of personal “continuity.” This group was known as the “ pudgala-vadins” for their belief in a “person” (pudgala) (not in contradistinction to the skandhas, yet not the same as the skandhas) which continued after death by the logic of karma. This school provided a basis for later schools of Buddhism in Tibet and East Asia which espoused the doctrine of reincarnation. We are told that by the fifth century ce some one-quarter of all the monks in India were members of this school.²⁰

Buddhism was to have a major impact on the history of Asia. On the Indian subcontinent alone, nearly thirty schools of Buddhism flourished. Thanks to the patronage of such kings as Asoka and Kaniska, its monks and laity contributed to the art and architecture, literature, drama, philosophy, and education of India. What we now call Hinduism is scarcely intelligible without recognizing the impact of Buddhism and the dialectic between the communities. Buddhist stupas (funerary structures) influenced the character of the Hindu temple; its iconography and perceptions of the Buddha informed Hindu art and theism. Its philosophers were to shape the intellectual life of the literate. Monastic communities later supported medical centers, as at Nagarjunakonda; institutions of higher learning as at Nalanda; and repositories of art as at Ajanta and Ellora. And even though Buddhism had virtually disappeared from India by the thirteenth century, it experienced a revival in the late twentieth century when hundreds of thousands of “untouchable” persons converted, following their leader, Dr. B. R. Ambedkar.

But, if anything, the impact of Buddhism outside of South Asia proved to be even greater. Its Theravadin schools made their way to Sri Lanka and into much of Southeast Asia where Pali texts were written, Buddhist kingdoms flourished; and Buddhist-Hindu forms of art proliferated. Mahayana schools made their way into Central Asia and beyond, into East Asia where Buddhism took on a flavor given by the cultures in which it grew. There is even evidence of a Buddhist presence in the Mediterranean world. Something of these stories will be explored in subsequent chapters.

Clearly the centuries we have referred to as the “early urban period” were a creative time, spawning heterodox movements in the Gangetic valley and changing paradigms in the vaidika communities. Reflecting an urban environment, yet somewhat contra-urban in its mood, the religious creativity of the period tended to stress asceticism and the life of seekers who combined understanding with disciplined action. It was a period during which theism played little role and where the two most common ways for the serious seeker to attain ultimate destiny were through wisdom (pawa) and appropriate action (karma). The sacrificial system of the Vedic period was less visible, though it was no doubt retained in certain royal circles with the help of priests. Clearly, non-brahmanic communities had left their mark on the Indian landscape, though it is more difficult to discern to what extent the developments represented contributions from “folk” or non-elite sources. It had been, in many ways, a transitional period which led to an explosion of religious developments in the later urban period. It is to that period in Indian religious history that we now turn.

The "heterodoxies"

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