Acintya-bhedābheda: A Conversation with Shrivatsa Goswami

by Satyaraja Dasa (Steven Rosen)

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Shrivatsa Goswami: Are you familiar with the works of S.K. De?

Satyaraja Prabhu (SR): Oh, yes, of course. His research is admirable. He is quite thorough, especially as a historian of the Vaiṣṇava tradition. But his siddhānta, his perspective, leaves a great deal to be desired...

Shrivatsa Goswami: This is the point. Although he has, to date, given the best survey, or overall information, about the Caitanyaite or Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava tradition, at least in the English language, he has no Caitanyaite perspective at all. He lacks the eye to see Caitanya.

SR: What would you attribute that to? I mean—he did do the research...

Shrivatsa Goswami: He was suffering from his own idea of objectivity.

SR: Pseudo objectivity.

Shrivatsa Goswami: [laughter] Well, it was certainly objectivity, of sorts, but it didn't allow him entrance into the spirit of the tradition. One has to know the limitations of such objectivity. Otherwise it is impossible to penetrate the tradition. Consider his approach to Bhakti-ratnākara, for example. S.K De can say little more than “it is a pseudo historical work." Well, it is much more than that. It is an elaborate account of the Caitanyaite tradition in Vraja from the sixteenth to seventeenth century...

SR: Well, I have to admit that, in my own research of books such as Bhakti-ratnākara, Prema-vilāsa, Karṇānanda, Narottama-vilāsa—there are certain historical difficulties. Dates, events—they don't tally. Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī Ṭhākura, in the Bengali introduction to the Bhakti-ratnākara, also says that the book may not, in all cases, be historically accurate. To some extent then, De may have a point. How would you explain the historical inconsistencies of such works?

Shrivatsa Goswami: It all depends on how you define history, or your approach to history. You see, Śrī Caitanya gives the key: acintya-bhedābheda. Yes, this is it—"the inconceivable difference-in-nondifference of reality." Generally, people think that this acintya bhedābheda is only applicable in the realms of metaphysics and ontology and so on. But I believe that the true beauty of Indian philosophical systems—especially Śrī Caitanya's acintya bhedābheda system—is that it can apply to all dimensions of human experience. If a philosophical system doesn't do that, it is only a partial treatment of reality. And no partial, relative, reality can be accepted as truth in Indian philosophy.

This is the case because, ultimately, philosophy is not just an academic exercise. Nor was it so in the West, at least in early times. It was accepted as the search for reality, or a guideline for living one's life. So Śrī Caitanya's system of philosophy, too, was meant to be implemented, and only by such implementation could one understand, with perspective, all facets of reality, including history. Otherwise, it is quite difficult to accommodate the perceptions of the historians of the Caitanyite faith.

SR: This is my conclusion, too. It is obvious for Vaiṣṇava historians—their point of emphasis was different. History, in the West, generally means facts and figures. But, in India, especially in the time of Caitanya Mahāprabhu and his first, second, and third generation followers—the sequence of events were not as important as the rasa or feeling conveyed. For Śrī Caitanya's followers, "history" meant pursuing the bhāva, the emotion, because if one can follow that, he can then truly understand the period—he can enter into the period in its truest sense. So these devotional "historians," if they can be called as such, were more concerned with conveying the truth of the period, not with time sequence and external events. This they documented, too, but it was given second place to the more important principle of divine līlā. So this is another consideration when we are judging historical accuracy.

Shrivatsa Goswami: Yes. Both are important. But, as you've stated, most important is the totality, the essence. That is acintya bhedābheda. You have made the connection. Good. When we are talking about history—how do we decide what is history and what is not history? Obviously when Kṛṣṇadāsa Kavirāja was writing his Caitanya-caritāmṛta, for instance, or when any of the other Vaiṣṇava scholars would produce religio-historical treatises, they were certainly aware that they were not writing history or biographies as such. No. They were giving the "nectar" of the history or biography. Caritāmṛta. You see?

And this means that what is important in historical processes, from the Vaiṣṇava point of view, from their experience, and their tradition—what they have imbibed, received, from their gurus and colleagues—is the essential truth. And they were trying to pass that on to us. Actually, it is only from that point of view that the whole Purāṇic tradition—or any tradition—becomes historically meaningful. But especially in the Indian historical tradition there is a tendency to give us the history of ideals. They are not interested in giving minor details. But they are giving the actual substance of a particular historical period and process. So, from that point of view, Bhakti-ratnākara is an important text. If Caitanya-caritāmṛta is an important text (and De admits that this is the case), then Bhakti-ratnākara should also be accepted as important, too. And these works give the siddhānta, the conclusion.

If you don't have this holistic perspective, you cannot write an accurate historical account, at least from the Vaiṣṇavite point of view. For example, a very good friend and colleague, the late A.L. Basham, gave the world a monumental work—The Wonder That Was India. But why does he say "was"? He is writing in the twentieth century. And India was?! Is there no current reality called India?! He stops his study in the tenth century. India was. Not is. So, for him, the subject is finished.

SR: Why did he stop at the tenth century? Some of the greatest episodes in Indian history occurred after that time.

Shrivatsa Goswami: That's the whole point. You cannot dispute an historian's choice. And that's where subjectivity comes in. This is where acintya bhedābheda talks to us. Subjectivity/objectivity. Whatever the likes of Basham are doing is subjective as well as objective. Objective in the sense that he's trying to be quite accurate, quite faithful, scholarly, comprehensive, in regard to conveying the facts which he has gathered about India in the chosen time period of his study. But why does he stop in tenth-century India? He could have written up to the fifteenth century and described the appearance of Śrī Caitanya, or futher. That is his subjectivity. And, materially, you will never see a totally objective piece of writing.

SR: Ideally, it seems that if someone reached a level of pure devotion, they would then have a spiritual, all-inclusive vantage point. They could then find that realm of perception where subjectivity and objectivity coalesce. The absolute platform. This would be the perfect retelling of history. No?

Shrivatsa Goswami: Of course. But in all fairness—what you are talking about does not pertain to the discursive realm. It transcends. We are now talking about the scholastic tradition of śāstra, scripture. Śruti, divine revelation, is another issue. It is a completely different subject. There we don't need histories. We don't need points-of-view. Of course, this is impractical. We are concerned as people living in vyavahāra.

SR: What was that word?

Shrivatsa Goswami: Vyavahāra. The mundane realm. The phenomenal world. And then there is the noumenal—the paraloka, paramārtha. So you are talking about the perceptionof those on the absolute platform. But we are, no doubt, in the realm of duality. In this realm, we have certain norms to deal with, certain intellectual processes with which to handle our everyday experiences. Here, again, acintya bhedābheda applies. We are spiritual beings functioning in a material world. Simultaneously different and nondifferent.

So, coming back to Caitanya-caritāmṛta, Bhakti-ratnākara, and works of that nature, works from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, they are giving both subjective and objective histories together...

SR: I see it slightly differently. I see those works as supra-mundane—very much like śruti. Supra-subjective and supra-objective. Nondifferent from śāstra. They are subjective in the sense that they convey, among other things, the particular rasa or mood of the writer and they are objective in that they convey the spiritual truth, in an absolute sense. As far as the historical inconsistencies—this is due to a different set of values, a different point of emphasis. Dates were not considered important. Philosophical conclusions and essential theological truths were considered the important thing.

Shrivatsa Goswami: This is clearly the orthodox view. But, critically, we have to deal with these works in a removed way. Scientifically. In China, for example, history begins with the Long March and ends with Mao. You may say that Confuciou and the various ancient traditions should be regarded—but it doesn't apply to normative Chinese history. So who decides? That's the question: who decides? Who decides that you are a pagan? Who decides that you are a heathen? Who decides that you are an infidel? Who decides that you are a rascal? Can I sit in judgment and call other people rascals? Me, never. It is a subjective idea. From the point of view of those I call "rascals," I am absolutely wrong. [laughter]

SR: Well, sometimes a guru may call his disciple a "rascal," and they will naturally agree. [laughter] They would normally resolve to correct themselves.

Shrivatsa Goswami: Yes. That is your freedom. You have chosen to be that particular guru's disciple. That is also subjective. And, yet, ideally, he is giving you objective knowledge of the absolute truth. So, you can see that acintya bhedābheda applies in every case. You give me any situation: political, historical, religious, devotional, cognitive, and I will immediately demonstrate to you how acintya bhedābheda applies and how it gives meaning.

Pure subjectivity will not do, nor will pure objectivity. Because, in the material sphere, these things do not exist in a pure isolated form. They just do not exist. A person on this plane cannot be purely objective, especially. Because this is begging the question. Logically speaking: what is objectivity without subjectivity? Objectivity begs subjectivity to be understood! And vice versa. There are many contradictory concepts that can only be explained by acintya bhedābheda tattva.

SR: This seems as though this is an apologetic or a rationale for acintya bhedābheda. Although acintya bhedābheda can be applied in varied ways and has the widest possible scope, as you have said, it is mainly used to define or characterize Kṛṣṇa and his various energies. It is ultimately quite particular in application: it defines the absolute and the energeis of the absolute—their interrelation. But it is true that the principle of acintya bhedābheda finds universal application as well, because God, the supreme person, is present everywhere and permeates (in a known or unknown way) all of our experiences. Anyway, if it is acintya, inconceivable, how can it be explained in this way? How can it be explained at all?

Shrivatsa Goswami: It was considered inconceivable largely because, for those people, when it was formulated, it was a revolutionary thought. It could not be understood by the traditional methods.

SR: I see this a little differently. According to the original Sanskrit, acintya literally means "inconceivable," "incomprehensible," "inscrutable," and perhaps even "unexpected." For example, God and his creation are identical, since the creation emanates from him and not from anyone else. Yet he is also different from all matter, all spirit—he is different from everything that exists—since all the parts that make up the whole are never equal to him. So this is how simultaneous oneness and difference is acintya, or inconceivable. It is quite literal.

Shrivatsa Goswami: But for practical understanding, we have to talk rationally. Acintya bhedābheda may be inconceivable, but it is not irrational. It is supra-rational. And even then, it is only supra-rational on a certain level, to the limited mindset of a particular people—their standard of rationality.

In this connection, I would like to cite an example from the Western tradition. Aristotle gave us the logic of contradictions. "A" is not "B" and "A" is not "not A." Very simple. Logic of contradictions. And that has governed the whole of Western civilization. Of everything. But to progress they had to wait for Bertrand Russell and Alfred North Whitedhead. They taught that true logic is not single-valued logic. It is a fallacy to think that logic is only the logic of contradictions. There can be multi-valued logic. And with Charles Hartshorne it was complete. Hartshorne showed that reality is multi-valued. Acintya bhedābheda—he detailed a very similar truth to what was expressed by Śrī Caitanya and Jīva Gosvāmī, but in Western jargon, of course.

The common mind, in this world, is governed by simple-valued, single-valued, logical systems. Even in India. It is not just a Western phenomenon. When Śaṅkarācārya said that reality is epitomized in the truth of "nondifference," advaita, then the other extreme automatically followed. If you say "A" is a reality, then someone else will automatically say "not A" is also a reality. And they will have good, well-thought-out reasons, too. [laughter] So immediately Madhva came and he said that duality is the only reality. [laughter]

But both Śaṅkara and Madhva gave simplistic conclusions—single-valued logic. So Śrī Caitanya came and said that both of you are partially correct and partially wrong. Neither of you are absolutely wrong, nor are you absolutely correct. He showed that acintya bhedābheda is the ultimate reality. And that had been shown, too, by Vyāsa, in the Purāṇic tradition. Nimbārkācārya had shown that as well. To a limited extent, also, Rāmānuja preached a similar doctrine. Many devotees and scholars were able to perceive this truth, at least to some degree. But Caitanya brought this idea to full fruition. It is beyond all mundane logical systems and it harmonizes them as well. It is supra-rational.

SR: What you're saying is, of course, true. But whenever you say that something is "beyond ordinary logic," you leave yourself open to criticism. People will accuse you of promoting blind faith. This has, in some cases, given bhakti a bad name. Antagonists sometimes say that devotees do not use their critical intelligence. Sometimes people accuse devotees of being anti-rational. It becomes especially dangerous if you reject the law of the excluded middle.

We require the law of contradiction to think. If there is some suspension of the standard laws of logic when we talk of acintya bhedābheda—some "higher logic"—then there must be very specific circumstances or rules for that suspension. It cannot be suspended in toto, nor can it be suspended arbitrarily, for this would lead to absurdities and the rationalization of sinful life: "sin is simultaneously sinful and not sinful!!!" I can hear it now... You know, because of this some people define bhakti as "blind emotionalism."

Shrivatsa Goswami: [laughter] Therefore, one must be thoroughly trained in Vedic theology. If you look at the work of the Six Gosvāmīs, you will see living proof of six lives dedicated to intellectual work of the highest order. So the claim of blind emotionalism is unfounded. The Gosvāmīs, just those initial six, produced some sixty-seven volumes on every possible branch of Sanskrit scholarship, containing the most profound philosophy. Many other Vaiṣṇava teachers, after them, wrote many hundreds of other treatises as well. No. It is not the work of fanatic sentimentalists. Hardly. [laughter] It is the work of genuinely open, critical intellect, the likes of which are rare in this world.

But the real intellectuals are generally suppressed. They are accused of being religious fanatics or so many things. Who decides? Who is the fanatic and who is making a substantial contribution to humanity? Power and politics decide. And in the wrong hands, power and politics are dangerous. In the right hands, they are an asset. This is another dimension of acintya bhedābheda-vāda. The same phenomenon is either negative or positive, depending on how it is used. Caitanya Mahāprabhu was aware of this. He also used power and politics to spread the truths of his faith.

SR: How so?

Shrivatsa Goswami: Whatever organizational work he did he took into account the politics of the time. It was brilliant. He utilized "power" for his own spiritual ends. For example, consider his selection of theSix Gosvāmīs. What was the deciding factor? Why were they considered his most prominent successors? Even Nityānanda Prabhu, ultimately, did not have the power and authority that was given to these six, because they were the codifiers and formulators of Śrī Caitanya's doctrine. Why? They are considered more instrumental in spreading the message, more than Advaitācārya or Svarūpa Dāmodara. More than Rāmānanda Rāya. Why? They were given a prominent place even above Prabhodānanda Sarasvatī, a well-known tridaṇḍī sannyāsī and the author of many theological works. So, why were the Six Gosvāmīs given this special place? Can you follow?

Among other theological reasons, the answer can be found when we analyze the importance of power and politics. Śrī Caitanya knew Prabhodānanda Sarasvatī's greatness. But Prabhodānanda was a simple sannyāsī. How would he ever manage a movement? It was not possible. So Śrī Caitanya chose those who were materially powerful—who were qualified for the project of resurrecting Vṛndāvana. They had the spiritual qualifications, too, no doubt, but Mahāprabhu did not underestimate the importance of power and politics.

If you look at Rūpa and Sanātana—they were from prestigious Karṇāṭaka brāhmaṇa stock. Their ancestry was royal. They were also known as powerful ministers in the Islamic government of the time. So, from two sides, they would be respected and followed by the masses. They were men of power. Ministers under the king Hussain Shah of sixteenth century Bengal. Their knowledge of power machinery was utilized by Śrī Caitanya. Jīva Gosvāmī, too, was from the same family. Now. Who was Gopāla Bhaṭṭa?

SR: He was from an important South Indian family.

Shrivatsa Goswami: Precisely. He was the only son of the chief priest of the most powerful Śrī Vaiṣṇava center. Power. Pure power. Money. Prestige. Scholarship. All forms of power. Prabhodānanda may have been a greater scholar, and he was from the same family as Gopāla Bhaṭṭa. But he was a mendicant. So Mahāprabhu did not choose him to be a leader.

Next was Raghunātha Bhaṭṭa Gosvāmī. He was nearer to the power center than any of the four Gosvāmīs I have already mentioned. He was guru of the Amber kings...

SR: Like Man Singh...

Shrivatsa Goswami: Yes, of course. Because he was living in Benares—a big spiritual center of the time. These kings built temples because of him, because of Raghunātha Bhaṭṭa, in Benares, and, yes, Rūpa Gosvāmī's Govindajī temple was built under the guidance of Raghunātha Bhaṭṭa—he was so powerful. He had men, money—power. Benares was the power center. And Raghunātha Bhaṭṭa's father, Tāpana Miśra, was the big guru there. This was Śrī Caitanya's plan in sending Tāpana Miśra to Benares early on.

And then there was Raghunātha dāsa. He was filthy rich, if I may use slightly blasphemous language. A multi-millionare. And he was kāyastha—not even a brāhmaṇa! Śrī Caitanya didn't care about such things. But Raghunātha was rich and enthusiastic. This was the thing. Rich—like some New York Jewish banker! [laughter] Mahāprabhu utilized the previous material assets of his most enthusiastic followers. This, of course, was also attempted by Bhaktivedānta Swami Prabhupāda. [laughter] So the method has seen a modicum of success.

SR: Nonetheless, the achievements of the Six Gosvāmīs as genuine sādhus, were considerable—glorious.

Shrivatsa Goswami: This is my point. You can't say that power and politics are necessarily a bad thing. It depends on their utilization in the service of kṛṣṇa-premā. This is Śrī Caitanya's teaching. You see, we are suffering from an ill-conceived Western notion. Aristotle gave us the wrong idea: that reality can be compartmentalized. "This is chemistry. This is physics. This is mathematics. This is philosophy. This is logic. This is religion." But reality doesn't work in that way. Concepts overlap. Reality doesn't fit into neat categories. It is expansive, vibrant, alive. So, the human experience is holistic—everything is interdependent and included. As soon as you say one thing is all bad, or another thing is all good, you are talking in contradictions. Drawing artificial parameters. So this is resolved with acintya bhedābheda, how everything is different and nondifferent. In seedlike form, this is Śrī Caitanya's philosophy about the nature of reality.

SR: How do you see Śrī Caitanya's teaching coming down to contemporary society? What is the application of acintya bhedābheda today? This is a question, of course, with which modern devotees need to contend. ISKCON, for one, is trying to apply this philosophy on Western shores, which is no easy task. Do you think it is going on properly? What advice would you give?

Shrivatsa Goswami: I think that there is tremendous potential. Not that I am part of Prabhupāda's movement, although I am also a Caitanyaite. But, as a somewhat removed student of religious history, I can only admire the achievements and progress that this movement has made. In fact, it might surprise the casual observer, but I think that Prabhupāda's movement has greater strength and hope than ever before.

SR: That's interesting. I agree with you, but given the problems ISKCON has gone through, I wonder how it is that you have come to these conclusions. Why do you say that?

Shrivatsa Goswami: I know that ISKCON has had its problems—politically, spiritually. But I am quite impressed at the maturity the devotees have shown in dealing with these problems. Actually, problems are inevitable. Such is life in this material world. But Prabhupāda has taught his followers well, and the proof is how they deal with their problems. ISKCON has come of age. Matured. It shows tremendous signs of maturity. Because, as I mentioned to Śubhānanda dāsa, and as it was recorded in his book, Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna (New York: Grove Press, 1983), the real strength and glory of the movement lies in anonymous, obscure, yet sincere devotees. It does not lie in temples, in distributing eighty million Gītās, in a huge bank balance, or in any of these things. Again, those things are laudable, when used properly. But the real strength and glory lies in just five or ten sincere—if also obscure—devotees. And ISKCON has many of them. The big people will come and go. But a sincere, simple heart will always be there, will always be ready to worship Kṛṣṇa with love and devotion. And that's what keeps the movement alive.

SR: Thank you.

Shrivatsa Goswami: Hare Kṛṣṇa! Jai Śrī Rādhe!